Little Etta was utterly fascinated, as always, when Olivia began to draw.
At first, she tried to sit in her lap, but when she patiently explained that interfered with the work at hand, Etta was content to stand at her side, occasionally fidgeting, watching as Olivia drew every careful line with an art pencil.
Long hair, but not as long as her own. Peter's eyes. The heart shaped face. A waggish upturn of one corner of her mouth, hinting at the sense of humor they'd barely gotten to see in their short time together.
When Olivia finally put the pencil down, and sat back to admire her work, Etta had her chance to as the question that had puzzled her since she started.
"Who's that, Momma?" she asked, still staring at the visage drawn on the paper.
"You, babygirl."
Etta laughed.
The sketch eventually was put into a frame hand made by Peter, and spent the next several decades on the mantle over the fireplace, joining their wedding portrait. It was the cause of much discussion in the Bishop family, as Etta's features slowly grew to resemble those of the young woman drawn by her mother, years before.
