Remembering Days of Love

By Sharon D. Tweet

CHAPTER 1

The sounds of distant chatter muffled through the secret halls, down to the quiet safe room that was hidden behind the walls, along the tunnels of the Stratford estate. With the welcoming of children and grandchildren into the family, the space had transformed over the years into a secret hideout filled with pillow cushions, a bookcase overflowing with books for all ages, a charging station for electronics, and a burgeoning snack center.

Rick Stratford had long ago claimed a corner next to a small space heater and spent hours in a comfortable recliner reading and telling stories to eager listeners. That Saturday, with the sun shining outside, and family and friends coming and going at all hours, thoughts and memories were alive on the inside. He needed a few moments to sit and reflect. While the conversation in the kitchen that morning had turned to the newly budding flowers around the grounds, Rick’s mind drifted back to seasons long ago when Caroline and Beth first began their tradition of planting days. He could hear their laughter; see their pencil scratches on paper, plotting the flower beds. As he took in the commotion of his children and grandchildren, he was overtaken with the memories and quietly slipped away to his bedroom suite and into the hidden tunnel.

He had only just settled into his recliner when the distinct sound of children’s whispers preceded the arrival of four of his grandchildren.

“Is it time for hide and seek, Grampa?” Ten-year-old Benjamin rubbed his hands together.

Rick smiled at his grand-nephew; delighted by the continued blending of family titles, distinguishing them as one cohesive unit. Jackson’s grandson was showing strong Atherton family physical characteristics with a beautiful blend of strength and charm from his mother and grandmother.

“Naw, Benji, I think Grampa is looking for some quiet.” Mason, the eldest of all the grandkids at fourteen, had a keen awareness. He spied the collection of children’s mystery books on a shelf and jutted his chin forward. “Why don’t we just hang out and read for a bit?”

Rick offered Mason a nod of thanks while nine-year-old Lacey grabbed a story from the shelf and presented it to him. Oh, I can’t resist those emerald green eyes and that smile. He reached out and lifted her onto his lap. “Shall we read aloud?”

Lacey snuggled into her Grampa Ricky’s lap and nodded. “Yes, please.”

Rick flipped the book around. “A Christmas story? In the spring?”

Lacey looked at him – her expression very serious. “Christmas is for all year, Grampa. Don’t you know that?”

Rick chuckled and flipped to the first page of the book. “That it is, Lacey. That it is.”

As he began to read, the boys, Mason, Benjamin, and ten-year-old Alex, sifted through the bookcase, trying to decide who got what when, in a playful tussle, they knocked into the bookcase, toppling over a picture frame.

Mason’s quick action caught the frame before it hit the floor. “Whew. That was close.” Glancing at the photo, he smiled. “Hey, Grampa, isn’t this from your very first Six Pack Christmas?” He turned the photo to show him.

Stopping in mid-sentence, Rick looked up and focused his eyes on the frame. Taking in each face, he nodded. “Yep. Always been one of my favorite photos.” He took a deep breath and shook his head. “That was a long time ago.”

“Tell us the story, Grampa. Please?” Benjamin crashed onto his knees at Rick’s feet. He looked quickly at Lacey. “You don’t mind, Lacey. Do you?”

Lacey caught the excitement from the boys and shook her head. “Oh, yes!” She looked up at Rick. “Will you tell us, Grampa? Will you?”

Rick closed the Christmas book and set it on the side table next to his chair. Reaching out for the picture frame, Lacey joined the boys on the floor at his feet while he stared at the photo, collecting his thoughts. He squinted his eyes, as if trying to bring it into focus. “I remember pulling out all the fixings for breakfast while Gramma Caroline was working on the dough for our traditional Christmas Tree Bread when Grampa Jack and Grandad C stomped into the mud room.”

 “Ho, ho, ho! Merry Christmas!” Jackson called out down the hall as he peeled off layers and stepped out of his boots.

Cap hung up his coat and slipped into his house shoes. “If I’m not careful, this is going to start feeling like a second home, I’ve been spending so much time here.”

“Funny,” Rick met them in the hall, “I was thinking the same thing about the Apricus last night.” He held out a hand in greeting.

Cap took his offered hand. “Well, I’m okay with that, if you are.”

Arms laden with packages, Jackson stood behind Cap. “I’d say I’m feeling a little left out, but since we were all at my place last night, I’d say we just have ourselves a spread-out compound of homes. I like it.”

Rick reached for a couple of packages to lighten Jackson’s load. “Just like always. Only expanded. I like it, too.”

As the men walked into the kitchen from the mud room, Beth and Monica walked in from the great room.

Caroline looked around. “Do you realize we’ve doubled in size in just one year?” She shook her head. “Amazing what a year can do.”

Jackson stepped to Caroline’s side and eyed her bowl of dough. A schoolboy grin filled his face. “That stuff always makes me feel like I’m five.”

Caroline’s appreciation sparkled in her eyes. “Right? A tradition worth keeping. Merry Christmas, big brother.”

Jackson leaned down and planted a kiss on her cheek. “Merry Christmas, sis.”

Cap looked on, his features a mix of joy and curiosity. “What’s that you’re making, Caroline?”

“That,” Rick stopped next to Cap, “is Christmas Tree Bread. Or at least it will be in a few hours. An Atherton family tradition of sweet warm yumminess.”

Beth rested her hands on the island opposite Caroline. “I’ve heard quite a bit about this bread. I’m anxious to try it.”

Jackson walked around the island to greet Beth. “My dear Miss Monroe, you are in for a treat.”

Beth stepped closer to Jackson and lifted her chin to him. “So you keep telling me, Mr. Atherton.”

Jackson took a deep breath as he gazed into her eyes. “You look shiny this morning.”

A giggle escaped her. “Oh, I like that. I’ll take shiny.” Her breath caught under his intense gaze. She worked her bottom lip between her teeth. “Come on, let’s get those packages to the tree.”

“After you, my dear.” Jackson followed her into the great room.

On the other side of the kitchen, Cap stepped toward Monica. “Merry Christmas, darlin’. And may I say, vos vultus amo aprico.”

Monica blushed and her nose twitched. “I don’t know what you just said, but I like the way it sounded.”

Cap shifted his packages to one hand and lifted his other to graze her cheek. “I said, you look like sunlight.”

Monica only grinned; held captive by his amber eyes.

“Come on, you two. To the tree.” Jackson waved Cap over from the doorway.

Cap blinked and looked after Jackson. “Right. The tree.” He glanced back down at Monica. “Shall we?”

She nodded and followed after Jackson.

As the four exited the kitchen, Rick leaned against the island and narrowed his gaze at Caroline. “Gee, Sunshine, between Caleb’s fancy words and Cap’s Latin, I’m thinking I need to up my game a little.”

Caroline held up her flour covered hands and stepped toward her husband. She raised up on tip-toes and crossed her arms around his neck. “Oh, Ricky, you are at the top of your game. I assure you.”

He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close as she pressed her lips to his. He eagerly accepted her affection and indulged in sharing his own.

A little drunk from her passion, he gazed into her eyes. “I must be the luckiest man alive, Sunshine. I love you.”

She peppered his nose and cheeks with kisses. “I love you, too, Ricky.” She lowered her feet flat on the floor. “And I think I should get back to my dough.”

He reluctantly released her. “Yeah, and I should make tracks with breakfast. I’m hungry.”

“Did I hear you say breakfast?” Jackson led the rest of the gang back into the kitchen. “Put us to work, boss. I think we’re all hungry.”

While Caroline finished the bread dough, the five friends worked like busy bees preparing their breakfast of eggs, bacon, fresh fruit, coffee, and juice.

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