the chair but, rather, knelt. The table was at her chest height, and the knife and fork were huge, but Frances was proud of her ability to eat with them by herself. She made a point of being very adult at the table. Jinny came in carrying a pitcher of water, then Janie, Grandma, and Mama next to her. Daddy sat at the end of the table away from Mama, away from everybody, it seemed.
"All right, Frances," said her mother.
"For what we are about to receive," said Frances, eyes closed with devotion, "may the good Lord make us truly thankful. Amen."
The food was served mostly in silence. Grandma Milne spoke twice. "Frank. This is yours," she said, holding out a plate of chicken and mashed potatoes, stretching toward him. She looked only at his hand as he took it, to make sure none of the food was spilled. "Virginia," she asked, "are you hungry?"
"No, Grandma," said Virginia.
"It's the heat," said her mother. "Jinny, you must try to eat something." She nodded to Grandmother, and a heaping plateful was served. Frances was next. She ate well. She always ate well. Chicken and gravy and mashed potatoes.
"Don't stir it so, Frances," said her mother.
Frances had forgotten how to eat mashed potatoes. She knew you were supposed to pile them on your fork, somehow, but they kept slipping off.
"Frances, you're making a mess," said her mother, and reached forward to help her eat.
"Uuuuhhhh!" said Frances in protest. She tried again. The fork was too big to get into her mouth.
"Take less, Baby, just with the tip of the fork."
Frances scowled and thought about what that could mean. It's like dancing, she told herself. You step with your hands. Tap is done with the toes. So I eat tippy-toe.
Delicately she picked up a fluffy piece of potato on the end of the prongs and twisted the fork around, so that just the tip could go into her mouth.
"That's better. Good girl. See?" Her mother was pleased.
Frances knew they all depended on her. She knew that without her, none of them would talk to each other. They only talked when there was company, or a show, or when Baby Frances did something to make them all laugh. It all came down to her.
Supper was cleared up in a hurry. Mother went up first to bathe and change. Jinny went to help Grandma wash up. Janie and Daddy played with Frances.
They played a game of catch with Loopy. Loopy was a hand puppet, and there was a certain thrill of cruelty in throwing him about the room. Whenever Janie caught him, she put him on and pretended to make him hide behind Daddy's back.
"I've got something to hide," she would say in a funny voice and make Loopy peek out from behind Daddy's back. Frances would laugh, and try to catch Loopy in a lunge and always miss. Loopy would duck away.
"I'm doing something you can't see!" said Loopy.
Her father stepped away, his grin too wide. Frances ran forward, hands outstretched to try to get Loopy, and Janie threw him, high over her head, to Daddy.
"Daddy's got the secret now," Janie said.
"No, I don't," he said, his queasy smile suddenly unsteady. He flung Loopy away too quickly, as if the puppet could burn him, too quickly and too high. Loopy careered into the mantelpiece. A tiny dish was knocked off it.
"Uh-oh," said Janie, in alarm, and looked at Daddy.
"Oops," said Daddy, and they both laughed. Frances decided to laugh too, even louder than they did.
"Quiet," said Janie, her mouth stretched downward from tension. Both she and Daddy knelt down and began to pick things off the carpet.
Loopy was forgotten. "What are you doing?" Frances asked, walking toward them.
"We've knocked over your mother's seeds," said Daddy. "She's going to plant them in the spring."
"They're from home," said Janie. Home was still Grand Rapids.
Frances knelt down too, and all of them pecked at the seeds with their fingers, like birds' beaks.
"Looks like these are going to grow a healthy crop of throw rugs," said Daddy, holding one up, covered in
"All right, Frances," said her mother.
"For what we are about to receive," said Frances, eyes closed with devotion, "may the good Lord make us truly thankful. Amen."
The food was served mostly in silence. Grandma Milne spoke twice. "Frank. This is yours," she said, holding out a plate of chicken and mashed potatoes, stretching toward him. She looked only at his hand as he took it, to make sure none of the food was spilled. "Virginia," she asked, "are you hungry?"
"No, Grandma," said Virginia.
"It's the heat," said her mother. "Jinny, you must try to eat something." She nodded to Grandmother, and a heaping plateful was served. Frances was next. She ate well. She always ate well. Chicken and gravy and mashed potatoes.
"Don't stir it so, Frances," said her mother.
Frances had forgotten how to eat mashed potatoes. She knew you were supposed to pile them on your fork, somehow, but they kept slipping off.
"Frances, you're making a mess," said her mother, and reached forward to help her eat.
"Uuuuhhhh!" said Frances in protest. She tried again. The fork was too big to get into her mouth.
"Take less, Baby, just with the tip of the fork."
Frances scowled and thought about what that could mean. It's like dancing, she told herself. You step with your hands. Tap is done with the toes. So I eat tippy-toe.
Delicately she picked up a fluffy piece of potato on the end of the prongs and twisted the fork around, so that just the tip could go into her mouth.
"That's better. Good girl. See?" Her mother was pleased.
Frances knew they all depended on her. She knew that without her, none of them would talk to each other. They only talked when there was company, or a show, or when Baby Frances did something to make them all laugh. It all came down to her.
Supper was cleared up in a hurry. Mother went up first to bathe and change. Jinny went to help Grandma wash up. Janie and Daddy played with Frances.
They played a game of catch with Loopy. Loopy was a hand puppet, and there was a certain thrill of cruelty in throwing him about the room. Whenever Janie caught him, she put him on and pretended to make him hide behind Daddy's back.
"I've got something to hide," she would say in a funny voice and make Loopy peek out from behind Daddy's back. Frances would laugh, and try to catch Loopy in a lunge and always miss. Loopy would duck away.
"I'm doing something you can't see!" said Loopy.
Her father stepped away, his grin too wide. Frances ran forward, hands outstretched to try to get Loopy, and Janie threw him, high over her head, to Daddy.
"Daddy's got the secret now," Janie said.
"No, I don't," he said, his queasy smile suddenly unsteady. He flung Loopy away too quickly, as if the puppet could burn him, too quickly and too high. Loopy careered into the mantelpiece. A tiny dish was knocked off it.
"Uh-oh," said Janie, in alarm, and looked at Daddy.
"Oops," said Daddy, and they both laughed. Frances decided to laugh too, even louder than they did.
"Quiet," said Janie, her mouth stretched downward from tension. Both she and Daddy knelt down and began to pick things off the carpet.
Loopy was forgotten. "What are you doing?" Frances asked, walking toward them.
"We've knocked over your mother's seeds," said Daddy. "She's going to plant them in the spring."
"They're from home," said Janie. Home was still Grand Rapids.
Frances knelt down too, and all of them pecked at the seeds with their fingers, like birds' beaks.
"Looks like these are going to grow a healthy crop of throw rugs," said Daddy, holding one up, covered in
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