Marigold offered her support in the form of a typically Marigoldish gesture: she sent Aislin up the hill with a dish of warm apple crumble. Rosie made token complaints along the lines of what, does she think I can't cook one myself? and then called the little ones in to eat it up. They were playing rambunctiously under the heavy October sunlight, earlier in the day than their usual outdoor romps.
Aislin hovered around the table with a nervous smile and Goldilocks couldn't resist the chance to snicker quietly at the big brown moo-eyes that Ham made at the girl. Aislin was learning the way of dairymaiding from Marigold, and the work had given her freckled skin a healthy colour not unlike the fresh cream she spent her days with.
Sam saw the snicker and sent Goldilocks out of the kitchen to go find the children unaccounted for. Goldy usually didn't take nicely to being bossed but Dad had that look and Goldy hated that look because it made her own eyes all stingy and her heart sort of heavy, so she meekly left the table. She found Pippin and Elanor dusting the shelves in the wine cellar, El giving off delicate little sneezes and Pippin coated in clingy grey muck. Ruby and Bilbo were painting bright blobby pictures of variously shaped bright blobs, and Daisy and Sammie were sitting in the overstuffed orange armchair that had once-upon-a-time been the favourite reading spot of Bilbo Baggins. They were sitting as still as dolls, their eyes owlishly large.
Goldilocks considered asking what in all the farthings they were up to, then shook her head and decided she'd rather not know. It was bound to be troublesome, and wouldn't end well.
"We're being quiet and well-behaved," explained Daisy in answer to the unasked question. Goldy wasn't going to cry, she wasn't wasn't wasn't.
"Come on, we'll go see if there are any books about beekeeping at the town hall, since you two gobble up so much honey you can just start growing it." Goldy's voice was chirpy and cheerful. Daisy and Sammie forgot their vows of obedience and silence instantly and jumped up in delight.
Ruby watched the three of them walk out the front door and down to the lane, chattering away. She looked down at her finished painting, which (to the trained eye) was a large cake with candles on it, done in lovely shades of blue and yellow and pink. It looked like a most delicious cake, if Ruby did say so herself.
It was really hot in the grown-ups' bedroom, a warming pan at the end of the bed and the curtains all shut up. Ruby squinted in the yellow candle-light, her eyes still adjusted to the cooler shades of sunlight. Uncle Frodo was reading a letter, his shoulder all wrapped up in a towel with a herb-y smell hanging around it. He looked restless and uncomfortable.
"Hullo. Can I stay and visit?" Ruby asked. Uncle Frodo turned and smiled and gestured for her to climb up onto the bed. Ruby did so quickly, knowing that Dad and Mum would scold her for sneaking in if she wasn't in there for a proper reason.
"I drew this for you." Ruby handed over the still-damp painting. "It's a cake," she added before Uncle Frodo said anything self-incriminating. She doubted she'd ever forgive Merry for his 'That's a lovely cat, Ruby-blue!' when she'd shown him her drawing of Bag End.
"Why do I get a cake, then?" Uncle Frodo's voice was a bit raspy but as jokey and nice as always. "It's not my birthday."
"No, but it's the any... annivers... anniversary of you being brave," Ruby touched hesitant fingers to the herbal wrap. "Does it hurt a lot, Uncle?"
"Sometimes. I feel very cold, like there's ice inside me where you've got ordinary bones and blood."
"Yuck," Ruby stuck her tongue out and wrinkled her nose. "I'm glad I'm not brave, then."
Uncle Frodo smiled at her, and Ruby felt like she was as tall as a tree. "Yes you are, pet. You were brave enough to come in and visit me, even though I get very grouchy and nasty on days like this."
"That's not brave, silly," laughed Ruby. "That's love."
Uncle Frodo just held the picture like it was the best thing he'd ever gotten, and cuddled her close in to the side that wasn't hurting him. Ruby didn't even mind that she wasn't finding out about bees, it was so nice to see her uncle's smile.
~
Pretty Good Year | email Mary