"Praised be the Lord!" Grandma exclaimed. "I been so worried I couldn't do a lick o' work. Just sat by the window praying double-quick time."
"Tell it now," Paul whispered to Grandpa.
"Now ain't the time."
"But Misty's feet are wet."
"Won't hurt her none. Salt water's good for feet, man or beast." He turned now to Grandma. "Idy, dear, don't set the table. We'll jes' stand up and eat beans and sop up the 'lasses with some of yer good bread. Then we got some packin' to do, Idy dear."
Grandma mimicked. "Don't you 'Idy-dear' me, Clarence Beebe! What you up to? Yer face is red as a gobbler's wattle."
Paul giggled nervously. Often he had thought their tom turkeys and Grandpa looked alike, but he had never dared say it. He couldn't stop giggling. And soon Maureen was laughing along with him.
Grandma began to chuckle without knowing why. "I declare to goodness! Hearing people laugh is like sunshine flooding the house."
"It's floodin' I want to talk to ye about, Idy."
The laughter stopped.