”“Now you know,” I repeated softly. “And all those trips to the library. How much was studying and how much was Andrew?”Bethany looked down and contemplated her tea. That spoke volumes and I knew what she was going to say before she said it.“Mostly him. I did my research, but I spent a lot of time talking to him while he was on break or wasn’t scheduled for work.”“Did you answer him?” I asked.She looked down but slowly shook her head indicating she hadn’t, but not saying so.“Bethany, Sweetheart, look at me,” I said.She slowly looked up.“But you’re considering it, aren’t you?” I asked.She nodded, and tears began streaming down her face. I took a couple of deep breaths and willed myself to remain calm. If I wanted her, and I most certainly did, losing my cool was not the way to win her over. Instead, I moved from sitting across from her to sitting next to her, and put my arm around her and held her while she cried. She put her head on my shoulder and I felt warm tears dripping slowly. .jelly babies….fruity pastilles ….honeycomb ….liquorice allsorts..penny danties…. highland toffee…spaceships..sherbet dips…lucky bags’ The candied litany squeaked from her like an advertisement. Although her mummy had taught her many words, she only recognized them in context, large rounded typeface in the comfortable pages of her storybooks, the words on the sweetie jars were formal and upright and meant nothing to her. The little boy was far more interested in what he could see from his lowest of vantage points, barely over the display counter, through the jars of coloured sweets, he could see his auntie Katy inside, her shoulders quaking as she shared a joke with Jessie. He loved watching her, with his dark brown baby eyes, her curly blonde hair pinned neatly up inside her hat, a little confection of rusty brown felt with a matching satin band and a little blue feather cocked along its brim, all held tightly in place with a pearl headed pin, jammed optimistically into the pile of.
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