"I'm well looked after here, Jonnie lad, but thank you for thinking of me."
Touched by Jon's kind words, Marjatta felt gloomy funeral dirge momentarily lifted, feeling no longer quite so old and outdated anymore. Robb had found himself a keeper, despite Jon being very much not the starry-eyed lass she'd been hoping for all these years. He was a sweet, thoughtful young man, though, his unselfish worry over Robb was commendable. Going the extra mile to make contact - and by extension raise her heavy spirits out of the toilet - Marjatta was grateful, and felt lucky to think of him as an “adopted” son.
She would remember, and take dark-feathered chick under her wing whenever she could as only a mother might.
"Soon as I hang up I intend on drawing a hot bath. It's raining and the air is damp so I've plans to spend the rest of my evening curled in front of the fire and reading. My group has exchanges from time to time so I got myself a few new novels today. Coupled with another phone call or two with Robb and it'll be nigh on time for bed..."
Purposely she'd kept herself busy since sun up; day's chores around the house then over to the village church for silent prayer of memorial and lighting candles: one for her husband and one for her son so many leagues away - I'll go back tomorrow and light one for Jon. He deserves God's grace, too. Had it not been so mucky outside the herb garden would've gotten a good once-over but that could wait for another time. Weeds were a constant in life. One of life's little battles hard fought but once cleared away only beauty remained. Sweet-smelling flowers for cooking or sharp, familiar medicinal scent released when leaf or stem was pinched between thumb and forefinger.
Faint, hopeful smile appeared when leaning back against counter’s edge. Tomorrow didn’t seem quite so daunting now, nor the day after.
"Be there for him; be supportive and understanding if he's blue or isn't up for much. Once he's clear of the storm, he'll know all you've done for him."