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    CLJobe
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

ARROW - 230. Chapter 230

The story of the peanut

I missed Pierre. He went with one of the home site managers. They stayed at Grandmere’s house. When they returned, Pierre said they found offices in a building not far from the Louvre. “I had to show him CaArl’s and your paintings. I didn’t know Grandfather’s collection was there, so I showed that to him.”

“Did you see Christian?”

“Yes, he gave me my mom’s share that Grandfather set aside for me. I stopped at the mausoleum to say hello to Grandfather. I took the opportunity to mention that you and Carl painted Michael. He looked surprised. We then went and checked my cottage. I cried, Dad. It was in ruins. When I yelled at Christian about letting it get in such a terrible condition, he promised to have it restored. He also sent his regards.”

I went and got a peanut, and offered him one of the nuts as I took the other one. That got me a smile and a hug.

“Pierre, what is the significance of sharing one peanut?”

“It started when I was very young and my mother was alive. There were just the two of us, she said we were like peanuts, two in a shell. In the evening we would sit and talk. She would tell me stories and we always shared a peanut. When she died, I started to live with my relatives. When I offered them a peanut, they would take both nuts. I think that was when I was the saddest. Then Grandfather knew somehow that I was having a bad time. So he took me in and I started the peanut with him. He always took only one. He told me that friends who cared about me would understand. When he asked Christian to take me in, I offered him a nut from the peanut, but he refused to take it. I told Grandfather. He told me I would meet someone who would share my peanut with me. I know it is silly but every time I shared the peanut, I remembered my mother. In a way, it kept her alive for me.”

I looked at him, there were tears in his eyes. I went and got a peanut, broke it, and offered him one of the two nuts. Crying he took his nut and we sat there eating our nut.

“I’ll miss this.”

“No, you won’t. I’ll be home every three months for a quarterly meeting at the home office.”

That required another peanut.

When Pierre left to return to Paris, he sent me photos of the work on his cottage. He also included one peanut that always arrived slightly crushed. I’m not sure if it was because he was the last of our children to be adopted, but I missed him the most. Colin said it was because I didn’t see him as often. He might be right, but we connected on a different level, maybe it was the same level I had with Grandmere.

With the boys gone, you would expect the house to be quiet. The only ones living here were Colin, David, Charles and I. The rooms with the bunk beds were empty. David took Maria’s old bedroom and Charles took the bedroom on the second floor.

With the four of us, one would expect the house to be quiet, but it wasn’t. Richie and Ronnie dropped their children off in the morning. No one makes breakfast like Granddad. We were okay with that, the house needed the noise of children. Charles and Peter drove the kids to school, and those too young stayed with me. I read stories, played simple games, and colored in coloring books. Nap time, we all took a nap on the living room floor in our bed roll.

Although there were moments of sadness as I thought about those sleeping on the knoll, there were moments of joy.

David dated that young lady he met in the school library and they were married. I sent them to Paris for their honeymoon. He returned with a peanut for me from Pierre. Now he wanted to know about the peanuts. I told him what Pierre told me. He thought it was a good idea and started it with Judith, his wife. He told Charles and now there are empty peanut shells in the garbage. A simple tale became a tradition in our home. As you would expect, it spread to the Home.

Elsie and Ivan’s daughter went to college in the South. I think she wanted to get away from the farm. She did well, met a young man whose family lived there several generations and so Elsie set up housekeeping in the south. Ivan and Elsie went down for the wedding. I laughed as I could see them talking about growing peanuts. I’m sure Ivan was wearing his official clothes. I never found out what his rank was in his home country. Now that country is no longer ruled by aristocrats, Ivan’s position, which he inherited from his grandfather and parents, is symbolic of the past. He loved wearing his official clothes.

Two of the boys who helped him with the farm, went to work for him when they graduated from high school. They said Ivan and Elsie treated them as if they were their children. On one of the farms Ivan bought, there was a small house. Ivan said it reminded him of a log cabin. Two bedrooms on the second floor and a kitchen and a great room on the first floor. Charles the Third, put in a bathroom on the second floor. The heating was through the fireplace in the great room. The boys were happy.

Ivan’s daughter relocated to Georgia on her husband’s family farmland.

Ivan came back home and stated his peanuts were better than those Georgia notes.

The following year, Elsie and her husband visited Ivan and Elsie. She brought one of her new friends with her. I never could understand a woman’s desire to see a single man, unmarried, to have him married. As it turned out the young lady did take a shine to one of the boys. When she returned home, the correspondence continued. The following summer she came on her own, as they said, history was made. They got married and settled in the home Ivan called the log cabin. With that success, Elsie needed to find a girl for the other boy. A young lady arrived, and one week later she left. Evidently, the log cabin wasn’t big enough, or grand enough. It took three more years before Elsie sent a young lady who fell in love with the young man.

Copyright © 2022 CLJobe; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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  On 11/5/2023 at 11:40 PM, akascrubber said:

The family members are growing up and living full adult lives. Colin and Armand pay attention and help connect them. They are entering the final part of their lives but are not yet infirm. They have been good parents and friends,

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And they have been active in providing not only for their children but the children at the Home.

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