It wasn’t the first thing Bedelia noticed about the man Father James introduced as his brother, but it stuck in her mind…perhaps because it was less disconcerting to ponder.
As he extended his hand to shake hers, she hesitated, seeing Finn Canter’s right thumb was well-bandaged and no doubt tender (she recalled the priest had remarked on her “firm grip”).
But he took her hand in his…holding it for what seemed ages as his faded-denim eyes smiled around the words, “it’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Cornell”.
Father James hadn’t over-sold the Meet & Greet group, everyone was friendly toward her without being pushy…but she’d been solitary so long that attempting small talk was as constricting as her ‘going-out’ shoes, unworn for years.
And then Finn rescued her: offering a “plastic crystal” cup, he said, “I may be mistaken, but you look like a lady who prefers punch, to coffee”—(surely her face had gone crimson as she ducked her head and thanked him).
She had felt frumpy as a feed sack, entirely out of place when she’d entered the parish hall—more so, standing next to Finn, who resembled an actor she’d seen in a recent movie; now, relaxing in her recliner (her stomach still all fidgety), his quiet, pleasingly modulated voice played amid her thoughts…how could he know she didn’t drink coffee, when his priest brother didn’t know even that much about her?
©Rhen Laird/Cobbled Contemplations, 2020 ~ All rights reserved.