Millie's Project. An Inspirational Story

 

Millie's Project

Fran sighed with contentment as she pulled another tray of golden brown, caramel scented cookies from the oven. This one was for Millie next door, who was down with a bad cold. Hopefully, she'd still be able to taste the delicious treat.

Fran's home was as old fashioned as her name: the kitchen cabinets dated back to the 1980's, and mint and pink coloured appliances vied for attention amongst knick knacks and bright coloured tins. As for the rest of the house, Fran favoured anything Amish or country, with a little Victorian thrown in. However Harold and the boys might feel about her decorating tastes never entered Fran's mind. It made her happy, and as the old saying goes, 'ain't nobody happy unless Mama's happy.'

Fran swished a hand knitted dishcloth over the counter before arranging some homemade treats on a rose festooned plate for Millie. There! That should cheer her neighbour up.

***

She found Millie propped up in bed, a box of tissues and an open Bible at her side. She appeared to be day-dreaming: her puffy eyes seemed fixed on some object in the distance. Fran coughed. Millie turned her head and smiled at the well-dressed woman. Fran certainly had the 1950's housewife look down pat: dark brown hair in a bouffant style, bright red lips, a pretty house dress covered by an adorable apron, and on her feet, a pair of low heels. At least Fran didn't totter around in stilettos.

"Fran, it's good to see you. But really, I don't  want to give you my germs."

Fran made a flicking motion with her pearly pink nails. "Cold germs don't come near me, Millie. I'm too busy for them. Never fear. Here we go." She said as she placed the cookies on Millie's lap. "These should help you feel better real soon."

"You're a wonderful baker, Fran. I'm sure they will. Thank you."

Fran waved her hand airily once more as she perched on the end of Millie's bed. "Think nothing of it. It's the least I can do. So, did Jim come down with the bug too, or just you?"

Millie chuckled softly. "It was Jim who brought it home from work, I'm afraid. But he's better now. Went off to work this morning after fussing over me and bringing me a tray of goodies and meds. He felt truly bad about it."

Fran responded with a polite chuckle of her own as Millie reached for a cookie. Inwardly though, she patted herself on the back for never allowing Harold to set foot in her kitchen. It just wasn't a man's place. When she got ill, which, touch wood, was not often, she'd stumble out of bed to sort herself out. In her opinion, Millie allowed Jim to do too much. He even cooked supper and baked cakes! Laziness on Millie's part for sure.

"I'm going to save some of these for when my taste's back, and for Jim, of course. Thanks again, Fran," Millie said as Fran rose to leave.

"I'd be happy to give you the recipe for when you're better. And don't strain your eyes with too much reading." Fran gestured at the open Bible. Really, Millie took things a bit far. As for herself, she was a church goer, an upstanding citizen. She read her Bible too, of course. Mostly at church on a Sunday.

Now, it was Millie's turn to wave her hand. "No worries. It can only do me good. I don't normally get so much time to read my Bible."

Fran just nodded, clamping her lips on what she wanted to say. And that was that Millie should spend more time on her housework and cooking.

***

Fran moaned. She couldn't believe how awful she felt. Obviously, she'd picked up that bug of Millie's  when she'd visited several days before. And she was the only one to get it too. Who knows what kind of messes Harold and the boys were making in the kitchen! She emitted another raspy moan from her painful throat as she contemplated heaving her aching bones off of the bed.

"Knock knock." It was Harold's cheerful voice. Fran's moan turned into a gasp. "Harold! What?" The crazy man was wearing one of her aprons and carrying a tray. A familiar face peeked into the bedroom from behind him.

"Your tray, Madame. And Millie's here. She insists on being your nurse while I manage domestic affairs. Will that do?" Fran tried to grimace, but her head ached at the effort. So she just nodded meekly as Harold placed the tray on her bedside table.

"I see you've brought all the meds. And orange juice. Excellent." Millie proceeded to gently plump the pillows behind Fran. "Why don't you put your feet up, Harold? I'll keep Fran company, and make sure she takes her medicine."

Fran flapped her hands weakly in Millie's direction, but it wasn't any use.

"I felt terrible when Harold mentioned how rotten you're feeling. I just had to  come over."

"Thank you." Fran croaked. She had to admit that it was nice to be fussed over. In a minute, Millie had dispensed everything Fran needed to take onto a saucer, and was holding out a glass of juice. "Here we go. You'll feel better soon, Fran."

The patient obeyed before sinking back against the pillows. She flopped a hand in the general direction of the wicker chair beside the bed. "Please stay a while."

Millie obliged. "But only if you have a nap." She produced a canvas bag and pulled out her latest knitting project.

"I like those colours." Fran said.

Millie just smiled and nodded as her needles clicked softly. Soothed, Fran closed her eyes, and the gentle rhythm of Millie's knitting soon carried her off into a much needed sleep.

***

When Fran awoke an hour or so later, she was surprised to find Millie still seated beside her. She studied her neighbour through bleary eyes. Millie was attractive in an understated kind of way. She was simply dressed as usual, her brown, wavy hair secured by tortoiseshell barrettes. She should really try wearing red. Fran thought. Her gaze fell to Millie's lap, where a Bible had replaced the knitting.

Millie caught her gaze and smiled. "Feeling any better? Can I get you anything?"

Fran shook her head as she reached for a glass of water. "No thank you. Would you mind reading to me? I'm interested to know what's gotten you so absorbed."

Millie happily agreed. She read the passage she'd been reading; Isaiah Chapter 53.

"I had no idea. Jesus in the Old Testament? No idea. Please read on Millie, if you don't mind. Your voice is as soothing as your knitting."

***

A little later, Harold popped his head around the door. Homely scents seeped into the room as he did so. Fran arched a well shaped brow. The man was still wearing her apron! What had he been up to? He did look quite cute though.

"Lunch is ready when you are, dear. Millie, you've been such a star. Why don't you join Raymond and Neill in the dining room? I'll bring Fran her tray." Seeing Fran's agitated look, he added, "and the dishes are all washed too. The boys helped, as well they should, what with all you do for them."

Fran could only stare, as the two schemers left the room. How she wished she could get a peek into her kitchen! And what on earth could Harold possibly have made? Cornflakes?

"Here we go." Harold was back in a flash with a pretty tray, and in the middle, surely not, stood what looked like a bowl of golden, steaming chicken soup.

"Made it all by myself with the help of your recipe and a You Tube video." Harold beamed, and he looked just like the seventeen year old she'd met in school.

Dumbstruck, Fran opened her mouth as Harold held a spoon of the fragrant soup to her lips. It tasted heavenly. Just right. She now knew what Alice in Wonderland felt like. Everything was upside down. She should have been the one making soup, not Harold. But as she looked into his proud, loving eyes, she couldn't be cross.

"It's perfect, Harry. Thank you." 

He kissed her softly on her warm brow, and this time, she didn't wave him away.

***

Millie popped over to check up on "her patient," but even though Harold had gone back to work, little help was needed.

"Just sit there and knit, or read from the Bible if you like." Fran smiled. "Please."

"Sure, I'll read,"  Millie agreed, "but I can't knit today. I finished my project. Here it is." She placed a bright pink gift bag alongside Fran. "I hope you like it." Fran pulled the soft, textured item from the bag, and tears filled her already watery eyes. "It's beautiful. I love it, Millie. You're so talented. Thank you." Fran stroked the vintage style tea cozy dreamily. The shades of teal, pink, and white went so well together. A jaunty pompom topped it off. Memories of teatime with her grandma assailed her.

"I thought we could have tea together more often, Fran. I think those delicious cookies of yours got me thinking."

"I'd like that very much."

Fran settled against her pillows, the tea cozy still in her hands, while Millie opened her Bible to the Book of John.

***

Copyright: pencil in His Hand

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