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Show 19-7 Fidelio bounded around from the back, up to Father who ruffled his face and then around the car to Andrew. Andrew let him lick his hand, holding the bandaged hand away from the dog. I watched from the porch. Father waved to me. "Hi, Annie." I waved back. Andrew looked up at me and then stood up straight and saluted me. I didn't know what to do. He seemed a stranger. Then he and Father came around the bushes and up the steps and it was my Andrew, now that I could see his face. His eyes were bright in the shadows of the porch and his mouth was stretched in what I had come to know was his widest smile. "Hello, Annie." "Hello, Andrew. I'm glad you could come." And the Mother stepped out onto the porch and introduced Ruth. Andrew was suddenly shy until Mother brought lemonade for me and iced tea for the four adults. I watched Andrew settle onto the porch swing with Mother beside him. Father went in to change his clothes. I sat on the porch steps and cuddled Fidelio. Ruth perched on the ledge of the porch. Andrew held the glass very carefully, balancing it on his knee, wrapping his bandaged hand around it deliberately. Mother glanced down at his hands. "You seem to be making progress, Andrew. How long until the bandage is gone?" "I'm not sure. This hand was worse than the other. Deeper damage, they say. So I won't be playing the piano any time soon, Mrs. Metcalf." He and Mother both laughed quietly. Father came out in his old pants and tweed jacket. He lit his pipe. "I'm sorry I had to wear my uniform. I don't have any other clothes. And I didn't want to show up in my pajamas." "Hasn't your family brought you some clothes?" Mother asked, turning to look at Andrew beside her. Father looked up at them through the smoke from his pipe. |