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Show CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE The minister arrived about eight. I was in my room reading when I heard voices on the porch and in the front hall, men's voices, loud with hearty laughing. I slipped down to the top of the stairs where I could see the visitors as they came into the living room. I saw Reverend Bingham, Mr. Glade, one of the church elders, and to my surprise, Uncle John. What was he doing with these men? When he turned toward the stairs, I gave a tiny wave, hoping he would see me. He didn't or else didn't want to let on he did. He hung back as the other two men sat down on either side of the fire and as Mother served them coffee and cake. Finally, he perched on the edge of the sofa next to Mr. Glade. Mother and Father sat together on the loveseat facing the fire. "I found your brother at choir practice and thought I'd bring him along," said Reverend Bingham. "You don't mind if he shares our talk." Mother shook her head. Everyone chatted for a moment, commenting on things the way adults always did when they were sliding into a more serious discussion. The weather was mentioned as was the church music, the fruit crop, the cost of the new radios being sold at the hardware store and the news of the Revolution in Europe. Now, I thought, they'll talk about what they all came for. And they did, Reverend Bingham beginning by clearing his throat and saying, "I gather, Katherine, that you are not entirely happy about our plans for the war memorial." He carefully set his coffee cup down on the table in front of him, laced his hands and nodded to Mother. His back was to me and I couldn't see his or John's face. I could see Mother's and she was not smiling. |
