Mac and Beau approached the sisters, who stood
beside a potted fern.
“Connie,” Beau acknowledged with a nod of his head. “Good to
see you. You look lovely.”
And she did too. Her beauty nearly took Mac’s breath away.
She was gorgeous in a short blue dress that complemented the color of her eyes.
And the heels she was wearing did everything to accentuate the curves of her
lovely legs.
“Thanks, Beau,” she said, giving him a peck on the cheek. “Love
the tie.”
But Mac was so caught up in Connie, he couldn’t even recall
what color Beau’s tie was. Red? No. Yellow? He didn’t dare chance a look if
that meant breaking away from Connie’s gaze. She looked like a princess, regal
somehow. With that neat string of pearls around her neck and the tasteful
dangling earrings to match. This Constance Oliver was one uptown woman. And Mac
was nothing but a down-home guy, he reminded himself as his shoulder blades
twitched beneath the jacket’s tight constraints.
“Wow, you’re just gorgeous.” Realizing his mistake, he
turned his attention immediately on Linda. “Both of you ladies are knockouts
for sure.”
Linda smiled and said something to Beau, while Connie’s face
colored sweetly. “Thanks,” she told Mac. “You look great too.” Suddenly her gaze
dropped to the floor. “Are those hiking boots?” She looked up again.
“It’s all he had,” Ollie explained, surfacing with three flutes
of champagne, one for himself and the rest for the other two gentlemen.
The small group watched as Elizabeth and Wendell Junior
walked into the courtyard to stand proudly beside Wendell Senior’s wheelchair. “Ladies
and gentlemen,” Wendell Junior said in his best booming voice. “May I
present…the birthday boy!”
People clapped and cheered as Connie’s grandpa did a small
pirouette in his wheelchair, grinning broadly.
“I thought he was very ill?” Mac whispered to Connie.
“It comes and goes,” she whispered back.
“You’ll see what she means,” Linda added.
To Mac’s surprise, Elizabeth silenced the crowd with her
celebratory pronouncement. “And now, in keeping with the way in which the birthday boy likes to run his
parties, let’s all have a little cake and ice cream!”
“Granddad always has dessert before dinner on his birthday,”
Ollie explained. “He figures it’s the one day he can do what he wants.”
“Yeah, and all of the rest of us get to join him,” Beau
quipped.
Linda elbowed her husband. “Be nice. You know you enjoy
having the cake first just as much as he does. Besides, nobody’s forced to eat it. You can always save
yours for later.”
Before Mac knew it, a huge, tiered cake was being rolled out
onto the floor on a movable table. Rather than having candles on top, it was
adorned by dozens of dancing sparklers, hissing merrily with all their might beneath
a rousing chorus of “Happy Birthday.” Grandpa Oliver’s face lit up in a big,
broad smile as he plucked a sparkler off the cake and began waving it around
like a maestro directing his orchestra, just in time to conduct the crowd in
singing “For He’s A Jolly Good Fellow.”
Then, halfway through the second chorus, the old man glanced
their way, staring straight at Connie. Within seconds, he’d doubled over,
dropping his sparkler to the floor and breaking into a prolonged coughing fit.
The room fell silent as nurses scrambled to assist him. Elizabeth dug in her
purse for her smartphone, preparing to call 9-1-1. Connie and Linda were about
to rush forward when their grandpa slowly raised his right hand, bringing
himself under control.
“I’m all right,” he told his worried daughter-in-law before
glancing once again at Connie. “For now.”
Mac pulled the handkerchief that Ollie had loaned him from
his pocket to wipe his brow. And he thought there was excitement in the wild.
None of his adventures in the great outdoors had anything on this.
Linda turned toward Mac with a knowing look. “See what
beside a potted fern.
“Connie,” Beau acknowledged with a nod of his head. “Good to
see you. You look lovely.”
And she did too. Her beauty nearly took Mac’s breath away.
She was gorgeous in a short blue dress that complemented the color of her eyes.
And the heels she was wearing did everything to accentuate the curves of her
lovely legs.
“Thanks, Beau,” she said, giving him a peck on the cheek. “Love
the tie.”
But Mac was so caught up in Connie, he couldn’t even recall
what color Beau’s tie was. Red? No. Yellow? He didn’t dare chance a look if
that meant breaking away from Connie’s gaze. She looked like a princess, regal
somehow. With that neat string of pearls around her neck and the tasteful
dangling earrings to match. This Constance Oliver was one uptown woman. And Mac
was nothing but a down-home guy, he reminded himself as his shoulder blades
twitched beneath the jacket’s tight constraints.
“Wow, you’re just gorgeous.” Realizing his mistake, he
turned his attention immediately on Linda. “Both of you ladies are knockouts
for sure.”
Linda smiled and said something to Beau, while Connie’s face
colored sweetly. “Thanks,” she told Mac. “You look great too.” Suddenly her gaze
dropped to the floor. “Are those hiking boots?” She looked up again.
“It’s all he had,” Ollie explained, surfacing with three flutes
of champagne, one for himself and the rest for the other two gentlemen.
The small group watched as Elizabeth and Wendell Junior
walked into the courtyard to stand proudly beside Wendell Senior’s wheelchair. “Ladies
and gentlemen,” Wendell Junior said in his best booming voice. “May I
present…the birthday boy!”
People clapped and cheered as Connie’s grandpa did a small
pirouette in his wheelchair, grinning broadly.
“I thought he was very ill?” Mac whispered to Connie.
“It comes and goes,” she whispered back.
“You’ll see what she means,” Linda added.
To Mac’s surprise, Elizabeth silenced the crowd with her
celebratory pronouncement. “And now, in keeping with the way in which the birthday boy likes to run his
parties, let’s all have a little cake and ice cream!”
“Granddad always has dessert before dinner on his birthday,”
Ollie explained. “He figures it’s the one day he can do what he wants.”
“Yeah, and all of the rest of us get to join him,” Beau
quipped.
Linda elbowed her husband. “Be nice. You know you enjoy
having the cake first just as much as he does. Besides, nobody’s forced to eat it. You can always save
yours for later.”
Before Mac knew it, a huge, tiered cake was being rolled out
onto the floor on a movable table. Rather than having candles on top, it was
adorned by dozens of dancing sparklers, hissing merrily with all their might beneath
a rousing chorus of “Happy Birthday.” Grandpa Oliver’s face lit up in a big,
broad smile as he plucked a sparkler off the cake and began waving it around
like a maestro directing his orchestra, just in time to conduct the crowd in
singing “For He’s A Jolly Good Fellow.”
Then, halfway through the second chorus, the old man glanced
their way, staring straight at Connie. Within seconds, he’d doubled over,
dropping his sparkler to the floor and breaking into a prolonged coughing fit.
The room fell silent as nurses scrambled to assist him. Elizabeth dug in her
purse for her smartphone, preparing to call 9-1-1. Connie and Linda were about
to rush forward when their grandpa slowly raised his right hand, bringing
himself under control.
“I’m all right,” he told his worried daughter-in-law before
glancing once again at Connie. “For now.”
Mac pulled the handkerchief that Ollie had loaned him from
his pocket to wipe his brow. And he thought there was excitement in the wild.
None of his adventures in the great outdoors had anything on this.
Linda turned toward Mac with a knowing look. “See what
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