Those raisin dimples were deep indentations. Shine kept busy with her fingers. "She says 'I like your name. It says the truth. My favorite is Apple.' The little girl giggled. She did that well and loud. Linda M continued translating, "Apple Dumplings." To say her eyes shined wouldn't be enough. The whole girl glowed.
This was a child able to laugh though she didn't talk. "She was born deaf, so words don't come easily. Would you mind?" Linda handed Dumpling the keys. "I'm riding in back. That way we can all talk." There it was, another something Dumpling had no idea her friend could do.
"You sign!"
"Yeah, I started taking private lessons with Susan, you know she runs the gift shop next to us. She's been teaching American Sign for years. Did you know that?"
"Nope. And No. I'm the one whose supposed to have her ears to the ground. Life is funny and sometimes we miss a step, drop a stitch, kick the can," Dumpling wondered how Linda would sign all of that mush. "So ... where to?"
"The Prairie Front Gardens."
"Ah ha. Sure we're going to gardens." Raven was spot on. Dumpling looked in the rear view mirror at her old friend. Beautiful blonde baker woman. Mother at sixty. Fertile ground. It was a short drive and good thing, Dumpling's stomach was rumbling. "Smells like ham sandwiches."
"Back bacon and mozzarella, on sour dough." Linda described the sandwich into her daughter's left palm. Shine started humming. The soup would be perfect together, and that girl. "Is it too late to change those papers? Can we be co-mom's to this mini me and you? Really! The girl huuummms with pleasure. How often does that happen. Where'd you find her." Dumpling put her left hand to her mouth. "Don't answer that ... not yet. I wanna be sitting with a bacon and mozzarella bun in my hand when I hear the answer."
Linda didn't leave a word out. She approached learning to sign with the rigor of learning a new technique for making pastry. Her face was animated and her hands, strong from all the years of kneading, were agile as well. It was tough to keep her eyes on the road. This was a new side to an old friend. Something all friendships thrived on when they were true.
At this time of day, the light on the prairie was a muted magical show of shades and near shadows. The gravel road needed work, Dumpling rounded a pot hole. Swallows dove and swooped at the van. Shine saw them and pointed! "Shall I park at the pea patches, or up at the tables?"
"Let's have the picnic up at the Pavilion and then walk over to the gardens after." The circular driveway was empty of course. Dumpling pulled onto the grass that was mostly yellow from no rain for such a long time. Shine was unbuckled, but waited for Dumpling to unlock the safety on the sliding door. Used to helping, she tried to lift the picnic basket. Too heavy. But the satchel fit easily in her two small arms. She carried it like a baby. Dumpling noticed.
"I don't get out here often enough," the smell of prairie grass and the swift flight of swallows are enough to make a critic soften. The old evil twin was sated with the sight of a young girl with life enough to share with a tribe of war-torn critics. Dumpling crooned. Linda wished her daughter could hear that.
The picnic basket was covered inside with a lovely cotton table cloth of summer flowers. Bright blue background and Cosmos which is a color that ought to just be Cosmos. Red Poppies and Sunflowers. Cloth napkins to match. Dumpling and Shine spread the cloth over the rough wooden table. Linda pulled the still-warm buns out from their wrapped basket. Mugs for soup. A salad of steamed and cooled Blue Lake Beans, sprinkled with slivered almonds and cranberries. A cold bottle of Ginger Ale for Shine and a bottle of Hard Cider. Hand-blown cobalt glue glasses Dumpling recognized from back in the days of young hippy trips to Tijuana. A spoon, folk and knife were wrapped in each napkin. It was a celebration. Births are celebratory times!
Dessert would top things off. Dumpling was surprised; she could wait. The moon topped the Trees. Grandmother Moon, there for the arrival of all babies on Earth.
No comments:
Post a Comment