Greydon stopped in front of them and bowed. “Good morning, Enid.”
She returned his smile. “Good morning, Greydon.”
His eyes shifted towards Marigold. “Hello, dear,” he greeted with kindness in his voice.
In response, Marigold snuggled up against her mother, resting her head on Enid’s shoulder.
“It would appear that Marigold has turned rather shy,” Enid shared.
“No bother,” Greydon said. “I shall win her over, just as I did with you.”
Enid gave him an amused look. “You did not win me over.”
“Haven’t I?’
The way Greydon was looking at her caused her cheeks to grow warm. She didn’t want him to know how deeply he affected her so she turned her attention towards Marigold. “We are on a walk around the gardens.”
Drats. Why had she said something so stupid? Of course they were on a walk through the gardens. What else would they be doing there?
Greydon nodded. “It is a fine day to take a stroll.”
“That it is,” she readily agreed.
Marigold brought her head back up and smiled at Greydon. Then, to Enid’s surprise, she put her arms out towards him.
In response, Greydon asked, “May I hold Marigold?”
“You may,” Enid said, secretly pleased by his request. She stepped closer to Greydon and extended Marigold to him.
Greydon held Marigold awkwardly in his arms, not in a way that was unsafe, but it didn’t appear as if he were comfortable with holding a child.
Enid laughed at his discomfort. “Have you ever held a child before?”
With a sheepish smile, Greydon asked, “Is it so obvious?”
“You just need to relax.”
“But what if I drop Marigold?” he asked, the worry etched on his features.
“You won’t, I promise.”
Greydon shifted Marigold in his arms and he visibly relaxed. Marigold tried to place a hand in his mouth, but he reached up and caught her hand. “Let’s keep our hands to ourselves,” he chided lightly.
Enid felt her heart take flight at the sight of Greydon holding Marigold so tenderly. She didn’t think it was possible, but she found that she loved him even more.
“My mother would have loved Marigold,” Greydon said. “She loved babies and would have loved nothing more than having a myriad of them.”
“A myriad seems like a lot of children,” Enid joked. “I can’t imagine loving another child as much as I love Marigold.”
Greydon ran his finger over Marigold’s cheek. “My mother never treated me like the spare. She just loved me, unconditionally.”
“It sounds like you had a good mother.”
“That I did,” Greydon responded. “She was the best of women. When she died, I thought that I would never recover from the loss. But time has helped ease my grief.”
Enid nodded. “Time has a way of showing us what really matters.”
“That it does,” Greydon responded. “I was fortunate to have my mother in my life as long as I did.”
