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Authors: Janette Oke
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bed.
“All right,” she said aloud as she straightened her shoulders. “If they don’t need me—I don’t need them either. They can make their plans. From now on I’ll make plans to suit myself. They can go their way—I’ll go mine. And I’ll do just fine—without them.”
Chapter Seven
Parker
Supper was a quiet meal. Even Glenna, who usually chattered happily, seemed to sense the mood of the two others at the table and was unusually subdued and pensive. For her part, Berta had made a personal decision. She would let things continue as they were until Glenna had finished her school year, and then she would make her own plans. Perhaps Miss Phillips would know of a room where she could board. Surely the salary that she made at her job would cover the rent. She would no longer need to be paying toward the support of her family.
Mrs. Berdette, too, seemed to be miles away. What are her thoughts? Berta wondered, but she did not ask. Did not even enter into conversation beyond “Pass the butter, please.”
In spite of the continued fury of the storm, Parker came to call. Berta lifted her eyes from the pages of the book she had brought from the library. She saw Glenna’s eager greeting and Parker’s ready response. With heavy heart she realized that her mother was likely right. Parker was sure to be asking for Glenna’s hand before many months passed.
“Good evening,” Parker addressed her politely.
Berta was sure he had no idea how his solicitude set her heart to racing.
Don’t be a fool, she scolded herself. He is Glenna’s beau.
She managed to answer his comments without giving away her true feelings, and then when she felt she had exchanged enough conversation to be seen as not running away, she excused herself.
“Oh, don’t go. Stay and chat,” invited Glenna.
Berta indicated the book in her hand. “I am at a most interesting spot.” She managed a slight smile. “I’m afraid I can’t wait to see just how it will turn out.”
“But we don’t want to drive you away from the warm fire,” spoke Parker. “Glenna and I will be happy to visit in the kitchen if—”
“No. No, that’s not necessary. I have a warm robe—and slippers. I’ll not miss the fire.”
And Berta hastened to leave the room before they could protest further.
“I think I’ll retire early,” she heard her mother saying. “It’s been a long day. I find I am quite weary.”
Berta paused in her departure. She wasn’t sure that it was proper to leave the young girl and her suitor alone in the living room.
“I’ll not be staying late,” assured Parker.
Berta hurried on down the hall.
The book had lost its fascination. She flipped through the pages, hardly understanding what she was reading. At last she tossed it aside and began her preparations for retiring.
Before she could even climb between the cozy flannel sheets she heard Glenna humming her way down the hall.
As she entered the room her eyes turned to Berta. “Shall I bank the fires?” she asked.
That had always been Berta’s job.
“Parker gone already?” asked Berta rather than answering.
“He thought it best,” responded Glenna, then followed with, “He always frets about my reputation. It’s so sweet.”
Berta said nothing.
“Do you wish me to bank the fire?” Glenna asked again.
“No, I will,” replied Berta and slipped her feet back into her slippers and tied her heavy robe close about her.
“Mama is already sleeping. I peeked in on her,” said Glenna.
Berta looked up. She nodded.
“Berta—is something wrong with Mama?”
Berta looked at her younger sister evenly. “Why do you ask?”
“Well … I—I don’t know. She just seems—worried. Preoccupied.”
“I—I guess she has a lot on her mind,” responded Berta as she moved toward the door.
“Like what?” asked Glenna frankly.
Berta turned to look at her. There was no way she was going to say to Glenna that their mother expected her to soon receive a
“All right,” she said aloud as she straightened her shoulders. “If they don’t need me—I don’t need them either. They can make their plans. From now on I’ll make plans to suit myself. They can go their way—I’ll go mine. And I’ll do just fine—without them.”
Chapter Seven
Parker
Supper was a quiet meal. Even Glenna, who usually chattered happily, seemed to sense the mood of the two others at the table and was unusually subdued and pensive. For her part, Berta had made a personal decision. She would let things continue as they were until Glenna had finished her school year, and then she would make her own plans. Perhaps Miss Phillips would know of a room where she could board. Surely the salary that she made at her job would cover the rent. She would no longer need to be paying toward the support of her family.
Mrs. Berdette, too, seemed to be miles away. What are her thoughts? Berta wondered, but she did not ask. Did not even enter into conversation beyond “Pass the butter, please.”
In spite of the continued fury of the storm, Parker came to call. Berta lifted her eyes from the pages of the book she had brought from the library. She saw Glenna’s eager greeting and Parker’s ready response. With heavy heart she realized that her mother was likely right. Parker was sure to be asking for Glenna’s hand before many months passed.
“Good evening,” Parker addressed her politely.
Berta was sure he had no idea how his solicitude set her heart to racing.
Don’t be a fool, she scolded herself. He is Glenna’s beau.
She managed to answer his comments without giving away her true feelings, and then when she felt she had exchanged enough conversation to be seen as not running away, she excused herself.
“Oh, don’t go. Stay and chat,” invited Glenna.
Berta indicated the book in her hand. “I am at a most interesting spot.” She managed a slight smile. “I’m afraid I can’t wait to see just how it will turn out.”
“But we don’t want to drive you away from the warm fire,” spoke Parker. “Glenna and I will be happy to visit in the kitchen if—”
“No. No, that’s not necessary. I have a warm robe—and slippers. I’ll not miss the fire.”
And Berta hastened to leave the room before they could protest further.
“I think I’ll retire early,” she heard her mother saying. “It’s been a long day. I find I am quite weary.”
Berta paused in her departure. She wasn’t sure that it was proper to leave the young girl and her suitor alone in the living room.
“I’ll not be staying late,” assured Parker.
Berta hurried on down the hall.
The book had lost its fascination. She flipped through the pages, hardly understanding what she was reading. At last she tossed it aside and began her preparations for retiring.
Before she could even climb between the cozy flannel sheets she heard Glenna humming her way down the hall.
As she entered the room her eyes turned to Berta. “Shall I bank the fires?” she asked.
That had always been Berta’s job.
“Parker gone already?” asked Berta rather than answering.
“He thought it best,” responded Glenna, then followed with, “He always frets about my reputation. It’s so sweet.”
Berta said nothing.
“Do you wish me to bank the fire?” Glenna asked again.
“No, I will,” replied Berta and slipped her feet back into her slippers and tied her heavy robe close about her.
“Mama is already sleeping. I peeked in on her,” said Glenna.
Berta looked up. She nodded.
“Berta—is something wrong with Mama?”
Berta looked at her younger sister evenly. “Why do you ask?”
“Well … I—I don’t know. She just seems—worried. Preoccupied.”
“I—I guess she has a lot on her mind,” responded Berta as she moved toward the door.
“Like what?” asked Glenna frankly.
Berta turned to look at her. There was no way she was going to say to Glenna that their mother expected her to soon receive a
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