To Have and To Hold (12 page)

He raised his hand to stop her. “I know. Your mother told me. I’m sorry, but it might be just

as wel .”

It might be just as wel ? That seemed like such an odd thing for him to say. “Why?”

He pointed to her face, and his smile grew wider. “You look beautiful, Mary. That husband of

yours is good to you.”

“Yes, he is. I’m fortunate to have him.”

“Then it’s good you went to Nebraska. I’m sure some day the men in this town would have

understood what a good wife you’d make them, but there was no sense in you waiting for years

until it happened.”

Curious about his choice of words, she got ready to ask him to explain what he meant when he

had a coughing fit. She quickly stood up and handed him a clean handkerchief before she

propped him up so he could get the phlegm out of his lungs. When he stopped coughing, she

helped him get comfortable and sat back in her chair.

After he took a cleansing breath, he continued, “You have two children?”

“Yes. A boy and a girl. Isaac is almost five, and Rachel’s one.”

His eyes twinkled. “I remember how much you wanted children when you lived here. I’m glad I

got to see the day when you had them.”

“Did I think I wouldn’t?”

“You didn’t think there was a chance as long as you stayed here.” He reached out for her hand,

so she clasped her hand around his. “You must remember that no matter what anyone says,

you made the right choice. You had to do what was best for you, and staying here wasn’t it.

There’s nothing here to miss.”

Her eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t understand. Was I unhappy here?”

He nodded. “Yes, you were. You never complained, though. Complaining wasn’t your way.

You were always such a gentle soul. That’s the kind that gets taken advantage of, you know.

But it’s also the thing that makes for a good wife. Speaking of which, I’d like to meet that

husband of yours who’s been good to you.”

“Of course.” She released his hand and stood up so she could open the door. Peering around

the doorway, she saw Dave leaning against a wal . When he looked at her, she motioned for

him to come into the room. “He’s ready to see you now,” she whispered.

Dave nodded and entered the room. Unsure of what to do, Mary held back while he

approached her father’s bed. He reached out and shook her father’s hand. “It’s nice to meet

you, sir.”

“Thank you for being good to my little girl.” Glancing in her direction, he asked, “Would you

leave us alone, Mary?”

Mary obliged him and slipped out of the room, shutting the door softly behind her. She stood in

the hal way for a moment before someone cal ed out to her from the stairs. Turning in the

direction of the voice, she smiled when she saw Grace. With Grace, she was beginning to feel

an inkling of friendship similar to what she had with Sal y, April, and Jenny.

Making her way toward Grace, she smiled. “It’s good to see you.”

Grace stepped in her direction. “Did you see Father?”

“I did. He seems happy, despite his condition.”

“He is.”

The two stopped close to the bedroom Dave and Mary were staying in, and Mary decided if

she could ask anyone about the missing mirror, it would be Grace. Clearing her throat, she

asked, “Why isn’t there a mirror in my room? Did someone take it out of there because they

needed it?”

Grace’s smile faltered. “You didn’t want a mirror in there while we were growing up.”

“Why?”

“Does it matter? It’s al in the past. Do you have a mirror in your bedroom in Nebraska?”

“Of course, I do. I thought everyone had mirrors in their bedrooms. How else can you see

whether or not you combed your hair right or look presentable after dressing?”

With a sigh, Grace shrugged. “You said you didn’t need a mirror to tel you those things. You

said you just knew.”

“But if that’s true, wouldn’t I have refused to let my husband put a mirror in our bedroom?”

“I don’t know. Maybe being with him gave you a reason to want to have a mirror. Al the

letters you wrote to me indicated that he’s wonderful to you.”

Her eyebrows furrowing, Mary thought it was strange that Grace and her father emphasized

how good Dave was to her, as if having a man be that way toward her was something unusual

for her. But then her father had said she hadn’t been happy with her life in Maine. She

debated whether or not to express her feelings to her sister, but she got the feeling she could

tel Grace anything and receive an honest answer. And if part of the reason she came here

was to learn about her past, then who better to go to than someone who’d been a dear friend?

Making sure they were far enough from her father’s door so Dave wouldn’t overhear in case he

came out of the room, she lowered her voice further and asked, “I’ve been having dreams

about mirrors every time I go to sleep. There’s something important about them. Why didn’t I

want the mirror in our bedroom while we were growing up, Grace? There has to be more than

you’re tel ing me.”

“It doesn’t matter, Mary.”

“Then why do you look like you’re afraid to tel me?”

Grace brought her hands together and stared at them for a long moment. “There’s nothing

wrong with the way you look.”

“No, there’s not. But what does that have to do with anything?”

“A lot. It had a lot to do with how you saw yourself when you lived here. There were some

people who were unflattering in the terms they used to describe you, and after a while, you

came to believe them.”

“Unflattering? How?”

Shooting her a firm look, Grace said, “I won’t go into detail, and there’s nothing you can say to

make me.”

Disappointed but understanding her sister only wished to protect her, she nodded. “Alright. So

people didn’t think I was attractive, and over time, I accepted what they said about me.” She

was a grown woman with a husband and children. Surely, she could handle that aspect of her

past.

“They were wrong. I never agreed with them. You have your own type of beauty that shines

through in everything you do.”

Mary knew her sister meant that as a compliment, but it seemed to mean that others didn’t see

that type of beauty. What others valued was physical beauty, like the kind Grace had. “You

never receive unflattering comments on your appearance.”

“I don’t want to talk about this. You have a good husband. You’ve been blessed abundantly.”

She cleared her throat. “I came up to tel you we’re making supper. Are you up to eating after

a long trip?”

In al the commotion of the day, she’d forgotten al about eating. “Yes. I can help with the

meal.” She glanced back at her father’s closed door. Whatever her father and husband were

discussing, they were taking a long time. At least, it was longer than the talk she’d had with her

father. She wondered what her father was tel ing him. Shaking her head, she figured her

father was learning about Dave and his farm. They had much more to catch up on than she

and her father did. Turning her attention back to Grace, she asked, “Wil it be the whole family

eating here?”

“Oh goodness no.” Grace took her by the hand and led her down the steps. “We’d never fit

that many people in the dining room. It’s just you, me, Mother, our husbands, and my children.

Father wil eat soup in his bed. He’s not up to going down the steps.” In a somber tone, she

continued, “I expect the next time he goes downstairs, our brothers wil be carrying him to his

coffin.”

Mary swal owed the lump in her throat. This was a shame. Without her memories of her

father, she didn’t have much to keep him alive in her heart. Before she saw him and got the

warm feeling from being around him, she hadn’t felt much of anything at the news of his

impending death. But now she wished she had more to remember. She decided she’d have to

make the most of the time she did have with him.

When she and Grace reached the kitchen, they got to work and helped their mother with the

meal while the children set the table. By the time Dave came down from the stairs, supper was

ready. She checked the clock and realized he’d been talking to her father for almost an hour.

She considered going over to him and asking him what they talked about, but her mother

announced supper was ready and Cal Jr. ran off to get his father from the parlor.

“I’l take your father some soup after we eat,” her mother told her and Grace. “He likes to nap

this time of day.”

While Grace and her daughter headed to the dining room, Mary faced her mother. “Father said

I wasn’t happy here when I lived here. Is that true?”

Her mother shook her head. “He thought it was good that you left. Said it was the best thing

for you.”

Mary studied the uncertain look on her mother’s face. “But you don’t agree?”

“You can’t fault a mother for wanting to keep her children close by, can you?”

Noting the reserved tone in her mother’s voice, she cleared her throat. “But we write. I don’t

remember the letters, but Dave says we keep in touch.”

“It’s not the same.” She offered a smile that didn’t reach her eyes and motioned to the dining

room. “Now, let’s eat. It’s been a long day, and there’s more to do.”

Mary’s stomach tensed, and she felt a drop in appetite. Her mother wasn’t pleased with her.

She wondered if it was because she left for Nebraska or if her mother hadn’t been pleased with

her other times in the past. Maybe she could ask Grace about it after supper.

Reluctant to drop the conversation, Mary obeyed her mother and went to the dining room. She

couldn’t bring herself to make eye contact with anyone. After she got into her chair, she bowed

her head as Calvin led the prayer and opened them when she trusted herself not to cry in front

of everyone. It didn’t seem right that her mother’s words should affect her this much. Yes, the

words stung. Knowing she displeased her mother by leaving Maine wasn’t pleasant. But in the

whole scheme of things, it was a minor thing. Or was it a sign that her life here had been an

unhappy one, as her father said? She dared a glance at her mother who doted on her

grandchildren from where she sat at the head of the table. Dave sat closer to her mother than

she did, which offered a nice barrier at the moment. She wondered if he chose to sit there for

a reason. Did her father say something to him about her life here before she left Maine?

With a sigh, she picked up her fork and stared at the pot roast and mashed potatoes. The

food seemed familiar. She’d had this meal at this house before. She tried to hold onto the

images flickering through her mind. Glimpses of more people wove in and out of the stream of

her memories. Her brothers and sisters. That’s who they were. It seemed to her that while

they were content, they weren’t laughing, not like the Larsons did.

Surprised, she glanced around the table and realized that while Grace, Calvin, and their children

kept their tones pleasant with her mother, the atmosphere was too orderly and structured. It

was formal. Stiff. Awkward. No one said anything wrong, but she had the feeling they were

too careful with their words. If she hadn’t become familiar with the way the Larsons were

whenever they ate together, it might not have startled her as much as it did.

Mary glanced at Dave to see if he picked up on the difference, but he gave no indication that he

noticed it. She sighed and ate her food, not necessarily because she had the desire to eat but

because she knew she better eat since breakfast was a long ways off.

“Mary, would you like anything else?” Grace asked, motioning to her nearly empty plate.

Mary shook her head. “No, thank you.”

“It was a fine meal, Mrs. Peters,” Dave told her mother before he wiped his mouth with a cloth

napkin he’d left at the side of his plate.

Mary knew that meant he thought the meal was alright but not as good as hers, and she

wondered if it was wrong that she liked knowing he preferred her meals to her mother’s.

“It was a good meal, Mother,” Grace added. “Did you use a new spice?”

Her mother nodded. “Actual y, I did. I can give you the recipe.”

“Yes, I’d like it.” Grace brought her napkin up from her lap and dabbed her lips. “I’l clean up.

You rest.” Mary got ready to get up and help her sister, but Grace motioned for her to stay

seated. “You had a long trip. Rest.”

Mary settled back into her chair and folded her hands in her lap.

Calvin motioned to the children and said, “You can go to the parlor.”

“Yes, Father,” they said and quietly got up and walked out of the dining room.

Mary blinked. While she didn’t think Isaac or Rachel were bad children, they typical y ran out of

the kitchen when she told them supper was over. She glanced at Dave and noticed his elbows

were on the table and his napkin hadn’t been in his lap. No one else put their elbows on the

table, and, like Grace, their napkins had been in their laps. This seemed to be another

difference between what her life had been in Maine and what it was in Nebraska.

Calvin picked up his cup of coffee. “So Dave, you’re a farmer?”

“Yes. I grow corn and beans.” Dave took a gulp of his coffee. “I was born in New York. My

family moved out west when I was a child to take advantage of the Homestead Act.”

“I’m afraid I could never be that brave,” Calvin replied. “You have a lot to overcome out there,

don’t you? I hear locusts can eat entire crops. What do you do in a case like that?”