In This Mountain by Jan Karon Read Free Book Online

and turned around and went down the stairs and through the Grill and out to the street, where he stopped and wiped his forehead and wondered what, exactly, had just happened to him.
     
    “Hey, Granpaw!”
    “Hey, Granpaw!”
    Twin girls, twin tousles of red hair, twin hugs—and yet, two thoroughly individual hearts, souls, minds, and spirits.
    “Hey, yourself!” he exclaimed. “Come and tell me everything.”
    Ah, but he fancied the grandchildren Puny had allowed him to adopt as his own. There was, however, no Granmaw in the household; no, indeed, Cynthia did not take to this folksy appellation, it was just plain Cynthia for all comers, regardless of age or station.
    “This is for you!” said Sassy, removing something from her book sack. “It has my name on the bottom.”
    He looked at the watercolor—a man sleeping in a wing chair with a huge black dog at his feet. The man possessed a large nose and was not wearing shoes.
    “That’s you!” she said, looking pleased.
    “Umm. Are you sure my nose is that big?”
    “Miss Cynthy says it looks just like you!”
    “An’ see, Granpaw, this is mine!” Sissy held up her own watercolor—a man lying on a sofa with a huge black dog sprawled beside him on the floor. “It’s you an’ Barnabas, I put Vi’let under the sofa, that’s her tail, do you like it?”
    There was that turnip-size nose again. He reached up and felt the thing that extended from his face. “I couldn’t like it better. Why on earth were you painting me today?”
    “Miss Hellman said do somebody, not your mama or your daddy, that you like really a lot.”
    “Well, if that’s the case, maybe you wouldn’t mind being seen around town with me.” The twins began to jiggle on the balls of their feet, entering into an after-school game the three of them often played.
    Father Tim scratched his head in mock puzzlement and inquired soberly, “But where on earth could we go?”
    “Sweet Stuff !” they shouted in unison.
     
    “I didn’t know you had grans!” Ada Rupert, who was buying a dozen oatmeal cookies for a visit of her own grandchildren, looked suspicious.
    “I don’t,” he said. “Well, not exactly. I borrow my grans, you might say.”
    “Humph,” said Ada. “I guess when there’s nothin’ to do all day, borrowin’ grans helps pass th’ time. As for me, I’ve got all I can say grace over without grans comin’ this afternoon to spend two days!”
    He noticed Ada was huffing and blowing as if she’d run to the bakery from the top of the hill.
    “Chocolate chip cookie!” said Sassy, standing on tiptoe and placing her order with Winnie.
    “Cream horn!” proclaimed Sissy, indicating her choice by touching the glass case and leaving a smudge.
    “Well!” said Ada, collecting her purchases and turning to leave.
    “You can borrow mine anytime! Help yourself!”
    He was ashamed to realize he’d fallen victim to Ada Rupert’s notoriously sharp tongue. Nothing to do all day? Nothing to do, indeed!
    His face flamed as the bell jingled on the door, and he reached into his pocket and removed his wallet. “A cream horn, a chocolate chip cookie, and…” He stared into the case, stricken.
    “And?” asked Winnie, peering at him.
    His heart hammered. “And a napoleon !” he said, surprised to hear the forbidden order issue forth in his pulpit voice.
     
    After dinner at the yellow house, he knocked on the rectory’s basement door.
    Harley opened it, looking sheepish. “Law, Rev’ren’, you done caught me fryin’ onions! Step on in, I hope you don’t mind th’ smell.”
    “Smells good! Won’t take but a minute, just wanted to say a friend is coming to town. He’ll need work and a place to live, says he can restore old cars and he’s willing to learn a trade. If that rings any bells, or if you hear of anything…”
    “I’ll keep m’ eye out. Can you set down an’ visit?”
    “Can’t do it tonight, thanks, we’re going to take a little stroll through Baxter