Read Online WeavingDestinyebook by G. P. Ching - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: G. P. Ching
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stopped in a room called A Soldiers Story and took a seat on a wooden bench. He patted the wood next to him. She sat down between her parents. A movie began called The Civil War in Four Minutes. Malini watched as the first shots of the war progressed into a massacre that divided the country. In the end, over a million casualties were tallied between north and south.
"Wow," she said. "I had no idea so many people died.
Her father placed his hand on her leg. "Abraham Lincoln is my hero because somehow he knew that this was the right thing to do. Somehow he knew that this was all worth it."
"It is incredible. He must have questioned what he was doing plenty of times. He certainly didn't seem to have much support."
Her father stood up, nodding, and proceeded toward the exit. Malini followed until her mother nudged her elbow and purposefully slowed to put distance between them and her father.
"What your father will never tell you is that it is personal," she said. Her mother's long brown braid fell forward on her shoulder as she leaned in toward Malini.
"What do you mean?"
"I was not of your father's caste in India. We should have never been allowed to marry. We were barely older than you are now when we fell in love. The reason he loves it here is that my class is not an issue. And he thanks that man for the favor." She pointed at a wax model of Abraham Lincoln.
"I never knew. How did Dad convince Grandma and Grandpa to let him marry you?"
"He didn't. We eloped and it wasn't until you were born that they came around."
Malini couldn't believe it. Her grandparents had always been supportive and loving. She couldn't picture her grandfather being so closed-minded.
They'd reached a room that depicted the death of Lincoln's son, Willie. Malini followed the crowd forward, lost in thought.
"So the reason he moved us to America...the reason he's so in love with this country... is because of you? Because here, everyone is equal?"
"Yes. Did you know our first house had a dirt floor?"
"No, I didn't"
"Your father has done well for us." She smiled.
Malini tossed her arms around her mother's neck and squeezed her tight. "Thank you for telling me."
At the edge of the crowd, they paused in an alcove called The Hall of Sorrows. A wax figure of Mary Todd Lincoln was posed, weeping near a dark window.
"She was crazy you know. Had to be committed to a mental institution near the end of her life. She wore only black after Lincoln was assassinated," her mother said.
Malini frowned at the grieving statue. The billowy layers of black lace on the dress must have weighed a ton. How itchy the high-necked collar must have been. But it was the red stone broach pinned at Mary Todd Lincoln's throat that drew Malini's eye again and again.
* * * * *
Jacob watched the clock tick, willing the hands to move faster. Thankfully, Laudner's Flowers and Gifts closed at five on Sundays. He didn't think he could take another hour on his feet.
"Go ahead and flip the sign, Jacob. There's only five minutes left. I'm sure it will be okay," Lillian said. They'd arranged to work the entire day for John and Carolyn. It was an ample justification for staying away from Katrina. Coupled with a mother/son dinner date, they'd effectively excused themselves until bedtime.
Jacob reached for the heavy cardboard open sign and was about to flip it over when a large woman with curly red hair appeared in front of the glass door. Her arms were occupied with an oversized crate of potted tulips and she was crying. Jacob recognized Fran Westcott even through the smudged mascara that made her look like a raccoon. He dropped the sign and pushed open the door for her.
"Thank you, Jacob," she said as she stepped into the shop.
Lillian lifted the box from Fran's arms. "What can we do for you, Fran? It looks like you're having a rough day."
"I know this isn't right. There's nothing wrong with the flowers, Lillian and I know it's against your policy to take them back at this
"Wow," she said. "I had no idea so many people died.
Her father placed his hand on her leg. "Abraham Lincoln is my hero because somehow he knew that this was the right thing to do. Somehow he knew that this was all worth it."
"It is incredible. He must have questioned what he was doing plenty of times. He certainly didn't seem to have much support."
Her father stood up, nodding, and proceeded toward the exit. Malini followed until her mother nudged her elbow and purposefully slowed to put distance between them and her father.
"What your father will never tell you is that it is personal," she said. Her mother's long brown braid fell forward on her shoulder as she leaned in toward Malini.
"What do you mean?"
"I was not of your father's caste in India. We should have never been allowed to marry. We were barely older than you are now when we fell in love. The reason he loves it here is that my class is not an issue. And he thanks that man for the favor." She pointed at a wax model of Abraham Lincoln.
"I never knew. How did Dad convince Grandma and Grandpa to let him marry you?"
"He didn't. We eloped and it wasn't until you were born that they came around."
Malini couldn't believe it. Her grandparents had always been supportive and loving. She couldn't picture her grandfather being so closed-minded.
They'd reached a room that depicted the death of Lincoln's son, Willie. Malini followed the crowd forward, lost in thought.
"So the reason he moved us to America...the reason he's so in love with this country... is because of you? Because here, everyone is equal?"
"Yes. Did you know our first house had a dirt floor?"
"No, I didn't"
"Your father has done well for us." She smiled.
Malini tossed her arms around her mother's neck and squeezed her tight. "Thank you for telling me."
At the edge of the crowd, they paused in an alcove called The Hall of Sorrows. A wax figure of Mary Todd Lincoln was posed, weeping near a dark window.
"She was crazy you know. Had to be committed to a mental institution near the end of her life. She wore only black after Lincoln was assassinated," her mother said.
Malini frowned at the grieving statue. The billowy layers of black lace on the dress must have weighed a ton. How itchy the high-necked collar must have been. But it was the red stone broach pinned at Mary Todd Lincoln's throat that drew Malini's eye again and again.
* * * * *
Jacob watched the clock tick, willing the hands to move faster. Thankfully, Laudner's Flowers and Gifts closed at five on Sundays. He didn't think he could take another hour on his feet.
"Go ahead and flip the sign, Jacob. There's only five minutes left. I'm sure it will be okay," Lillian said. They'd arranged to work the entire day for John and Carolyn. It was an ample justification for staying away from Katrina. Coupled with a mother/son dinner date, they'd effectively excused themselves until bedtime.
Jacob reached for the heavy cardboard open sign and was about to flip it over when a large woman with curly red hair appeared in front of the glass door. Her arms were occupied with an oversized crate of potted tulips and she was crying. Jacob recognized Fran Westcott even through the smudged mascara that made her look like a raccoon. He dropped the sign and pushed open the door for her.
"Thank you, Jacob," she said as she stepped into the shop.
Lillian lifted the box from Fran's arms. "What can we do for you, Fran? It looks like you're having a rough day."
"I know this isn't right. There's nothing wrong with the flowers, Lillian and I know it's against your policy to take them back at this
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