“Hello?” said Amelia as she picked up the phone.
“Hello!” Polly replied.
“Polly, not you!” Amelia said, covering her ear. “Hello?”
“Hello!” Polly yelled back, but Amelia ignored her and strained to listen. It was the garage calling.
“Mrs. Frog?” the mechanic said. “Your car will be ready to pick up tomorrow evening. I’m sorry, we can’t finish all the fixes until then.”
“You have our car??” Amelia asked, confused. “I thought George was fixing it.”
“Oh… ah… well…” the mechanic said. “He brought it to us, and we made him promise not to tinker with it anymore.”
“Oh my…” Amelia sighed. “Thank you. We’ll pick it up tomorrow evening.”
When she hung up the phone and she looked over at Polly, their rescue parrot.
“Polly, what do you do with a man who loves to tinker, but isn’t any good at it?” she asked.
Polly ruffled her feathers, and started to sing in an imitation of a country singer, “Stand by your man…”
“Sometimes I think you understand a whole lot,” Amelia said thoughtfully, and Polly blew her kiss.
The toilet just would not fill properly, and it was driving George crazy. With some Youtube videos and a good mechanical sense, he was pretty sure he could fix it.
Amelia came into the bathroom at the worst possible moment, and he heard her gasp.
“Amelia, it’s not as bad as it looks,” he said.
“You aren’t a plumber, George!” she cried. “And you aren’t a mechanic! You work in finance!”
George’s feelings were hurt.
“A man has to be able to fix things!” he said.
“The garage called, George,” she said. “Please, please, please stop trying to fix things yourself.”
“That’s similar to what the mechanic said,” George said gloomily.
“Let’s call in a plumber,” Amelia said. “And then we can watch Netflix together, and you can even put on the French subtitles, if you want, to help you learn French. You’re rather good at French, you know.”
His heart swelled a little bit. He was rather proud of his French lessons.
“Ma cherie!” George said, and he caught Amelia’s hand and kissed her fingers. “Mon coeur, ma belle, mon bijou!”
“So good at French,” she said. “Now, let me call the plumber, and you can translate all of that for me.”
Perhaps George was better at French than he was at tinkering, after all.
George and Amelia picked up the car from the garage, and George once again promised the mechanic to stop tinkering without a professional present. Then they drove home, went inside, and sat in front of the wood stove in their kitchen together, enjoying the warmth that came from the depths of the wood fire cook stove.
“I’m supposed to be making a Shoo Fly Pie, George,” Amelia said.
She had all the ingredients out on the counter–flour, butter, molasses– but somehow, after stoking up the fire, she’d gotten rather comfortable sitting in front of it.
“I’m supposed to be shovelling the walk outside,” George said. “I like sitting here with you, better.”
“I do, too,” she said. “This is cozy, isn’t it?”
“Very cozy,” he agreed.
There were times when frogs had to get things done, and then there were times when frogs just needed to sit quietly. This was a quiet time.
“Will you make me pie later?” George asked.
“Probably not,” Amelia admitted apologetically. “I feel too comfortable. Do you mind very much?”
“Not really,” George said.
And they leaned toward each other and listened to the soft pinging of the stove pipe, and the popping of the fire inside the stove.
I hope you are enjoying my latest instalments of my Knitted Newlyweds. I have so much fun with these knitted frogs!
If you love stories about love and romance, I hope you’ll check out my books! Also, if you’d like to keep up with my publishing news, sign up for my monthly newsletter. I have monthly giveaways there, too!
Happy reading!
❤
Patricia Johns 
Your comments make me feel warm and fuzzy. Seriously!