“No, I’m only happy for you my son. Heaven bless us, what’s to worry over the colour of her hair? It’s as your grandmother used to say: there’s such a thing as ‘plain enough’.”
Eb had taken an hour out of the day to call in and visit his mother. He felt he certainly owed her some time to tell her all about Flo, and break the news that he didn’t want to wait until summer, the traditional time for a wedding.
Eb’s mother was old, and didn’t really do evenings any more, least-wise not for thinking and paying attention – certainly not for eating, and it would have been unthinkable to her to receive her son into her home without a large plateful of cookies and a pot of hot coffee.
“Mooma.” He had kissed her, and they had sat down at the table together and talked.
Eb felt guilty, sometimes, that he had gone to live alone, and left his mother here living alone; for that was not the Old Order way.
Eb had taken an hour out of the day to call in and visit his mother. He felt he certainly owed her some time to tell her all about Flo, and break the news that he didn’t want to wait until summer, the traditional time for a wedding.
Eb’s mother was old, and didn’t really do evenings any more, least-wise not for thinking and paying attention – certainly not for eating, and it would have been unthinkable to her to receive her son into her home without a large plateful of cookies and a pot of hot coffee.
“Mooma.” He had kissed her, and they had sat down at the table together and talked.
Eb felt guilty, sometimes, that he had gone to live alone, and left his mother here living alone; for that was not the Old Order way.
