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Authors: Eugenia Price
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surprise.”
“It’s hard to believe, but he will be ninety years old day after tomorrow,” John Couper said. “If there’s any way I can help you get ready for the possibility that this could be his last birthday, tell me, please.”
“You’ve already helped me—again, Son. Just go on being the finest son a mother ever had and forgive me for borrowing more sorrow.” She made herself smile up at him. “I do still live at dear Lawrence with that sunrise, you know. Don’t worry about your fretting mother. The last thing she ever means to do is to trouble you.” Her smile widened. “Or to lean
too hard against you. Don’t let me lean 83 too hard, John Couper. Not ever.”
“Do you think we’re supposed to wait for Grandpapa to slide open the doors? Or should I do it?”
“You open them. Papa won’t be able to stand the suspense much longer, I’m sure.”
Chapter 4
Although there wasn’t a single stranger in the spacious Hopeton parlor, Fanny, always more at ease observing than talking, stood with her back to one of the high front windows that looked out onto the greening lawn to the canal. She watched them all, a contented smile on her plain, smooth young face. Even if she thought of something to say, Fanny was sure she couldn’t be heard above the din of laughter and merriment filling the room. Most of all, she was watching her pretty mother. I declare, Fanny thought, Mama hasn’t looked this young or this pretty since Papa went away. How she loves and depends on John Couper! Here it was supposed to be a big birthday celebration for Grandpapa, and as usual,
he pulled one of his merry pranks by keeping it a secret that John Couper’s new employers in Savannah would, after all, let him leave his work for four whole days to be with us for this happy time.
The last any of the Frasers had heard, John Couper would not be able to be there. No one had told her so, but Fanny’s hunch was very strong that Grandpapa had written one of his most persuasive letters to Mr. McCleskey, his young friend. Mr. McCleskey had relented and John Couper now stood beaming down at Mama, who still clung to his arm, then across the room at Grandpapa, then around the big room at the whole family. No wonder shouts and talk and laughter rang. There were five Frasers and Eve, all but one of Uncle James’s big brood, plus Grandpapa.
The contented smile left Fanny’s face when suddenly, despite the throng of close family members, she felt her father’s absence—and Annie’s, Aunt Isabella’s, and Grandmama’s—so painfully she had to blink back tears. This was certainly no time for sorrow. At least it was no time to let the sorrow show. But how proud Papa would be if he could see his only
son giving so much support and strength 85 to Mama! Maybe he could see—maybe he could see them all. Maybe Papa and Annie and Aunt Belle and Grandmama Couper were together this minute, enjoying the gathering of the clan, as Grandpapa would call it, right there in the beautiful Hopeton parlor. As Christians that’s what they were all supposed to believe. It was just so hard when no one had yet found a way to prove it. “Faith has nothing whatever to do with proof,” Pete went on reminding her. “It has only to do with whether you think God is truthful or not. Didn’t He say the night before they killed Him that where He went, there we would be also? Either we believe Him or we don’t, Fanny.”
How did Pete get to be so sure about everything?
Every single night of their lives, the two sisters had shared a room. Fanny, for the first few years after Papa went away, cried herself to sleep most nights. She’d cried, too, when their oldest sister, Annie, died and also Grandmama Couper, even though she had never lived in the same house with her grandmother. Not once had she caught Pete weeping. When did she do it? Pete always
appeared to be in charge, but her heart, Fanny knew, was tender. She must have cried a lot, especially on
“It’s hard to believe, but he will be ninety years old day after tomorrow,” John Couper said. “If there’s any way I can help you get ready for the possibility that this could be his last birthday, tell me, please.”
“You’ve already helped me—again, Son. Just go on being the finest son a mother ever had and forgive me for borrowing more sorrow.” She made herself smile up at him. “I do still live at dear Lawrence with that sunrise, you know. Don’t worry about your fretting mother. The last thing she ever means to do is to trouble you.” Her smile widened. “Or to lean
too hard against you. Don’t let me lean 83 too hard, John Couper. Not ever.”
“Do you think we’re supposed to wait for Grandpapa to slide open the doors? Or should I do it?”
“You open them. Papa won’t be able to stand the suspense much longer, I’m sure.”
Chapter 4
Although there wasn’t a single stranger in the spacious Hopeton parlor, Fanny, always more at ease observing than talking, stood with her back to one of the high front windows that looked out onto the greening lawn to the canal. She watched them all, a contented smile on her plain, smooth young face. Even if she thought of something to say, Fanny was sure she couldn’t be heard above the din of laughter and merriment filling the room. Most of all, she was watching her pretty mother. I declare, Fanny thought, Mama hasn’t looked this young or this pretty since Papa went away. How she loves and depends on John Couper! Here it was supposed to be a big birthday celebration for Grandpapa, and as usual,
he pulled one of his merry pranks by keeping it a secret that John Couper’s new employers in Savannah would, after all, let him leave his work for four whole days to be with us for this happy time.
The last any of the Frasers had heard, John Couper would not be able to be there. No one had told her so, but Fanny’s hunch was very strong that Grandpapa had written one of his most persuasive letters to Mr. McCleskey, his young friend. Mr. McCleskey had relented and John Couper now stood beaming down at Mama, who still clung to his arm, then across the room at Grandpapa, then around the big room at the whole family. No wonder shouts and talk and laughter rang. There were five Frasers and Eve, all but one of Uncle James’s big brood, plus Grandpapa.
The contented smile left Fanny’s face when suddenly, despite the throng of close family members, she felt her father’s absence—and Annie’s, Aunt Isabella’s, and Grandmama’s—so painfully she had to blink back tears. This was certainly no time for sorrow. At least it was no time to let the sorrow show. But how proud Papa would be if he could see his only
son giving so much support and strength 85 to Mama! Maybe he could see—maybe he could see them all. Maybe Papa and Annie and Aunt Belle and Grandmama Couper were together this minute, enjoying the gathering of the clan, as Grandpapa would call it, right there in the beautiful Hopeton parlor. As Christians that’s what they were all supposed to believe. It was just so hard when no one had yet found a way to prove it. “Faith has nothing whatever to do with proof,” Pete went on reminding her. “It has only to do with whether you think God is truthful or not. Didn’t He say the night before they killed Him that where He went, there we would be also? Either we believe Him or we don’t, Fanny.”
How did Pete get to be so sure about everything?
Every single night of their lives, the two sisters had shared a room. Fanny, for the first few years after Papa went away, cried herself to sleep most nights. She’d cried, too, when their oldest sister, Annie, died and also Grandmama Couper, even though she had never lived in the same house with her grandmother. Not once had she caught Pete weeping. When did she do it? Pete always
appeared to be in charge, but her heart, Fanny knew, was tender. She must have cried a lot, especially on
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