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8
After discovering Maisie’s diary, as much as it killed her, Mia just didn’t have time to read a single passage as she was already late getting back to the doctor’s office in the allotted time.
To her utter frustration, after wheeling a cantankerous Angus back into the waiting room, Bernadette insisted on taking everyone to Wallensky’s diner for lunch. Whereby she choked down her food, the spiral metal of the notebook shoved down the front of her leggings, burrowing its way into her skin.
She did her best to appear interested in Angus’s monosyllabic responses to Bernadette’s ever-patient questions regarding his progress and overall health.
“I dinna need to goo to a physical therapist. I can do the same thing on me own.”
“I agree,” Bernadette replied magnanimously. “However, if you were to fall, I’m not sure I could lift you by myself. You’re a lot of man, Mr. MacGavin.”
He puffed out his chest a bit. “Aye, that I am. But doanae I ’ave no intention of fallin’.”
“So that I don’t worry, let’s give the therapist another week, shall we?”
“I ken yer finagling me, lassie.”
“Finagling is beneath me, Mr. MacGavin.”
Bernadette didn’t look happy. Once again, Angus was rubbing her the wrong way, and Mia knew it was only a matter of time before the even-tempered saint of a woman blew a gasket.
Bernadette glared at a pouting Angus. “While you’re acting no better than a small boy, still in their short pants, being ungrateful and high-handed and throwing tantrums.”
Angus’s eyes sparked. “We be name calling’, are we now? Yer callin’ me a wee babe.”
While Bernadette’s eyes turned into narrow slits. “Uhh uhh boie yee, go oonah now. You actin’ like a lil churn.”
Wow, that came sooner than later.
Bernadette sat back in the red leather booth with her arms crossed, glaring at the man fuming in front of her, her patience worn thin.
Angus’s face turned a mottled red as he attempted to lower his voice. “I’ve asked ye nicely to enunciate yer words, lassie. I canna no make heid’s nor tails of what’s comin’ outta yer mouth.”
“Okay, can we just stop?” Mia asked, starting to feel like the only adult in the diner. “Angus, Bernadette is right. The doctor said you still need to go to physical therapy so you’re going to go. Period. And taking your frustration out on the person trying to care for you isn’t cool. I think we can both agree that she’s been very patient and generous.”
She turned toward Bernadette. “I think the Gullah-Geechee language is dope. It would be nice if we understood it better. Angus has always been good about interpreting for me and Mom so we can begin to pick up the nuances of the words. Maybe, you could do that, too?”
“I could do that.” Bernadette agreed, with a stern mouth looking off to the side.
“Aye,” Angus capitulated, avoiding eye contact, as well, however his countenance softening a smidge. “So ken I.”
“Good. Now, would someone please pay the bill so we can go home?”
“What be the rush?” Angus asked, turning his pitiful bad mood into suspicion. “Ye be scarfin’ yer food down like a starvin’ pup.”
Great.
She just had to play the mediator between their petulant battle of wills. It was totally true when people said no good deed goes unpunished.
But she was also wily. Angus had said so, like, a million times.
“Oliver’s coming over to share the reading list for English class this fall.”
Books she had already read, from the list her dad had given her after her mom left. She decided to read them again to refresh her memory and because it was better than sitting around, regretting everything she had said to her mom.
After a dubious gravelly grunt from Angus and him paying the bill, after yet another test of wills between the aggravated couple, they finally left.
As they pulled into Bernadette’s driveway, Mia spied Oliver dutifully waiting while sitting on Bernadette’s front porch steps.
