The image of Ambrose’s bare ankles haunted Raven all the way home.
I simply cannot fathom it. To stick his bare feet into his shoes…How could he do that? It’s…It’s…inhuman!
I will not even think about those baggy, ugly, pocketed slacks he dared to wear to such a formal function.
I will have to dress him for his wedding. There’s no longer any question about it. Lord above only knows what he’d consider acceptable apparel for that occasion.
Most likely swimwear. Ugh.
He opened the front door and went inside.
Missy’s faint lemon cream pie scent soothed his rattled nerves. He followed it into the kitchen. He stopped in the kitchen doorway and smiled.
Missy sat Indian-style on top of the kitchen table with one of her library books and a large jar of peanut butter. She scooped out a spoonful of peanut butter and sucked on it as she read.
He stood still and admired her.
She’d pulled her hair into a fluffy bun and was wearing an outfit that certainly looked like pajamas to him. But both Missy and Barbara had assured him several times that they were indeed real every day clothes. The white scoop-necked shirt with the cute little bunnies all over it was not a pajama top. The loose-fitting clamdiggers with the carrots and tiny paw print pattern were not pajama bottoms.
He shook his head.
They are wrong. She is wearing pajamas. Mismatched pajamas at that. Yet, I find it hard to complain about it.
It suits her so well.
She pulled the spoon out of her mouth and gasped. “No…How could this be happening? It’s stupid. It doesn’t make sense.”
He strolled over to her. “What is wrong, Missy?”
“This book is wrong. Why would Barnabas propose to Alana? He doesn’t even like her! No one likes her.”
“That would be one of the reasons I did not like that book.”
“Well, you could have warned me.”
He climbed on top of the table and sat next to her. “I thought it best if you discovered that reveal on your own.”
She stuck the spoon into the peanut butter. “Does he go through with it? No. I’m sure he doesn’t. Barnabas loves Josette. He can’t stand Alana. Alana is too modern. She’s…too…Not Josette. That’s what she is. She’s everything Josette isn’t and I cant stand her. Does he wind up killing her in the end?”
He laughed. “I am not at liberty to say, miss. Read on.”
“Will you read it with me?”
She moved closer to him and he wrapped his arm across her shoulders. “Now, where was I? Uhhh…Oh! Here. He just proposed to her and she accepted and she’s stupid as dirt.”
“Do you mind if we return to where I left off? I can’t remember how or why he proposes to her? I honestly cannot remember him even professing his love to her.”
“Oh, he does and he does it so stupidly. It’s so random and it literally comes out of nowhere. It’s so stupid. I hate it and I hate him for doing it like that and I hate the author for writing it like that and I hate Alana.”
He laughed and kissed her head. “I love you.”
She looked up at him.
And, for Raven, those three words, eight letters, and two spaces were more than the sum of their parts. They were a very simple truth. “I love you, Missy.”