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Show 10-2 And Mother brave to come and take Andrew's hand. She reminded me then of the stories Grandmother had always told me about Mary, Queen of Scots, bravely going to the block, her head held high. She must have looked just like Mother looked today under the trees, reaching out to shake Andrew's hand. Gallant. That was a word I had always loved, its sound and its meaning. Whatever else Mother might do in her lifetime, she would have had this one afternoon to be gallant. The newspaper had used it a lot during the war to describe great deeds by soldiers. I realized my mother and father were also gallant. And Andrew too. I wondered if he had been gallant when the gas came toward him. My parents talking lulled me, soothed me, and I was soon asleep. The piano. Soft notes curling up the stairs and around me where I lay asleep, a long ribbon of sound gently tickling me awake. Mother at the piano. I lay for a moment, still in the warm room, the early sun greened by the tree outside my window. Then I stretched and sat up and stretched again. Suddenly, yesterday's happenings flooded in on me, washing the new day with the old emotion. Andrew. And Mother. And Father. One by one, they played out their parts from the scene under the trees while I, who had brought them together, sat by and watched. I lay back on the warm bed. I stretched again and then jumped out of bed. I dressed quickly in my stay-at-home clothes. I had to go see Grandmother before I went to the hospital and she might wonder if I was all dressed up, might ask embarrassing questions. I peeked around the corner of the stairs and hunkered down so I could see Mother at the piano. The morning breeze just moved the curtains, and Mother |
