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Show 7f/ But as soon as we entered, my uncle's wives clustered around, kissing and hugging me and my daughters, my uncle enfolding Brian's hand with his two big clean ones. "So good to see you, son," he said. I was instantly warmed, my dread vaporizing like rain on summer pavement. My mother stopped playing to greet us. "I'm so glad you could come," she said, giving us each a resounding kiss, determined to make us feel welcome. Aunt Helga; came up behind her. "Hannah', why aren't you playing? People might want to dance." My mother frowned and glanced nervously at the piano. "I just wanted to say hello to Brian and Jeannie," she murmured. But she returned to the piano like an obedient child, and Aunt Helga resumed her place in line. People stopped us every foot or so aa we made our way to the platform. We were kissed and hugged and greeted so enthusiastically that Brian was rubbing his hand by the time we reached the platform. "I don't think I can survive another handshake," he muttered. "What is this - the firmer your grip, the more priesthood you hold?" "They just want you to know you're welcome." "Either that or they're trying to make sure I can't show up again," he grinned. Melissa was lovely, her laugh full, her face radiant, yet even now restrained by a peculiar precocious wisdom that had been evident since her early childhood. "Shame on you for getAt-Ai-n.ngP -m amrarrirsiued and leaving your mother, I teased her. |