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Show 19-10 I watched as he carried Mother's tall crystal pitcher full of tea. After he set it carefully on the table, he turned around and winked at me. Mother is not a wonderful cook, but the food was good tonight and Andrew ate a lot of it. He still had trouble with anything hard or difficult to chew and once his fork slipped out of his hand and clattered to the floor. No one seemed to notice. He and Father talked about some of the other patients, where they were from and funny things they said. He said that one of the men who had known Uncle Paul had been released the week before to go home. "Oh, yes, Katherine. Your friend Eric may go home soon." Father's voice was smooth. Everyone but Andrew stopped eating. Mother looked up quickly. "Home? Is he ready?" "Well, we're not sure. But there's not too much to do for shell-shock, other than rest and quiet. And he could get that at home. His sister says she'll take him in." "What's shell-shock, Father?" Father glanced at Andrew. "It comes from being under fire. Some people can stand less of than than others. But Eric seems to be doing fine." Mother started to ask a question and I saw Father shake his head, only a little. She turned to Ruth and offered her more ham. As my parents and Ruth and Andrew sat over coffee, the curtains blew in and around Andrew where he sat. The cool of autumn came into the room. Father was talking about the hospital where he had been in New York. Andrew rested his cheek on his hand and stirred his coffee. I had trouble realizing that we had not sat like this before, that Andrew had never been in our house before. I wanted him |