Read Someday Home for Free Online

Minerva took about as much as she could stand and then would hide who knew where.
    After a brief stop at the grocery store on her way back, she delivered the threading compound and returned home. This time her research was shared housing. The phone again. Sometimes she was tempted to ignore it, but checking the screen, she grinned instead.
    “G’ma, can I come bake cookies? Mommy is still sleeping and I just got home and…” She dropped her voice. “I don’t want to wake her up. She’s grumpy if I do.”
    Lynn rolled her lips together. “See you in a minute.” And clicked off, smiling and shaking her head at the image. Miss Priss was on her way. As always when she knew one or more of the children were coming, she stepped out on the back porch to watch them run along the path that crossed the large open field between the two houses. The little towhead with a pink bow in her hair—she loved hair decorations—waved and picked up her speed.
    Lynn blinked back the tears that burned the backs of her eyes and immediately caused her nose to run. Joy or sorrow, her tears had no rhyme or reason, other than the big M. She dug a tissue out of her pocket and blew her nose. Miss Priss would ask immediately why she was sad.
    “G’ma,” she yelled to be heard. “I got a new purse.” She waved a shiny pink plastic bag, which would no doubt be of the latest princess ilk. Miss Priss devoutly believed in princesses, and according to her daddy, she was his.
    “Beautiful.” Lynn wasn’t making any definitions of what she was referring to. She braced for the leap into her arms, surely not typical princess behavior, whatever that was. The smile beamed up at her made her hug the little one again. “So how was preschool?”
    “Arnold brought a big worm in his pocket, and the girls shrieked and ran.” She shook her head. “It was dumb. He wasted a good worm.”
    In this family if you couldn’t put your own worm on your own hook, you didn’t get to go fishing. And if you didn’t go fishing, you would miss out on a good amount of the family entertainment. Miss Priss slid her hand into her grandmother’s. “I hope we are going to make peanut butter cookies, and I want to mash them with a fork.”
    “If that is the kind you want, no problem. We could make chocolate chip bars, too, if you like. They can be baking while we form the others.”
    “Okay. Daddy likes the bars best.” She swung her purse with her other hand. “Did you know that next year I go to kindergarten?”
    “I figured.”
    Blue eyes stared up at her. “What if I don’t like it?”
    “Do you like preschool?”
    A nod and a serious look. “Most of the time, until some boy does something really, really stupid.”
    “Girls don’t do stupid things?”
    She shrugged. “But we listen better.” Her smile widened. “Miss Minerva. You want to play dress-up?”
    “How can we bake two kinds of cookies and still play dress-up?”
    “I just wanted to see her run. I think she got tired of playing dress-up. Last time she scratched me. All she had to do was say she didn’t want to play anymore. She didn’t need to get mean about it.” Miss Priss boosted herself up on a stool. “Can I wear a apron?”
    “Of course you must.” While they chatted, Lynn took all the ingredients and a mixer out of the pantry and set them on the table. Mentally she ran down the list of ingredients and double-checked to make sure she had everything. “The peanut butter is on the bottom shelf; you want to get that?” Fetching the princess apron she had made for this particular grand, in pink of course, she tied the apron strings and dropped a kiss on the curly blond hair that caused more than one argument over tangles. Getting the hair washed had taken coercing, bribing, and strict orders until they found a no-tangle product that even worked on curly hair.
    “Can I start the mixer?”
    “Wait until we get the ingredients in. You remember how to crack the eggs in?”
    “Can we