Her name is Elizabeth Jones. Beth for short. But we call her Tiny. (A nickname my son, Jake, gave her.) She's the mommy of my granddaughter. And she's a perfect little flower. She's beautiful and smart. She loves her baby and she loves me. (That's her finest point! hehehe) She calls me Mommy Face.
I've known Beth almost four years. When we met, she wasn't yet dating my son. I believe we were all doing shots of.. oh hell I dunno. I am not a shots person, so I was just sipping it and she would say, "Hey, finish that up, babe! I gotta use the glass!" :)
Here's the thing about Tiny. She is both strong and frail. She has a solid character that you can feel. But she is sensitive to being mistreated. I used to try to find her work where the people were civil and wouldn't yell at their employees because I couldn't stand the idea of her being exposed to that. It's true, she's come such a long way. She now works two jobs and has gotten her own apartment, where she and the baby live. Her sister and Jake live there off and on to help with the childcare. (Beth and Jake split up some time ago, but they remain close friends and share the responsibility of the baby.) Beth also has a fiery defender's spirit. She is sweet as punch, but if you hurt someone she loves, she'll knife ya!
Beth reminds me of one of those mountain flowers. The type that can grow, even from the ashes of a forest fire. I feel privileged to know and love her.
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