began to fade, Mr. Manson, the postmaster, stuck his head in the door. “Be right there, Virginia. Just got to finish up this little chore for Mrs. Manson.”
Virginia reached into her pocket to finger her waiting letter. It was all she could do to smile politely at the postman and assure him that he could take his time with the task—whatever it was. Mrs. Pilcher, a new woman in town, chose that moment to enter. She had not yet been assigned a box, so Virginia had to sort through the pile of general delivery to look for her mail. There was nothing there, and Mrs. Pilcher turned away in obvious disappointment. “ Thought there’d be a letter from home,” she mumbled, and Virginia was afraid that tears would spill when she saw the woman’s chin trembling.
“I’m sorry,” answered Virginia, understanding the woman’s distress. “Maybe tomorrow.”
“I tell myself that every day,” the woman said, her voice low. “Every day.”
Yes , thought Virginia, I tell myself every day, too. I know how you feel . Her hand reached into her pocket again. The letter was still waiting to be read.
At long last—though in reality the clock indicated it was only ten past twelve—Mr. Manson hurried through the door. “I’m sorry about that, Virginia. Time caught me right in the middle of hanging a new mirror. Mrs. Manson doesn’t like jobs half done. You just take this extra ten minutes on the other side of your noon hour.”
Virginia nodded and hoped she looked pleasant as she gave Mr. Manson a final nod and headed for the door. She couldn’t even wait until she reached her favorite half-hidden park bench but instead stopped under the nearby weeping birch to pull the letter from her pocket. Her eyes scanned it quickly to see if it gave any indication when Jonathan might return. She would read it more carefully later.
Her eyes soon found the paragraph.
“One of these days I will be knocking on your door. Soon, I hope. It has taken much longer than I had thought to get things in order here. It seems I have been gone forever, and I am most anxious to get back. I do hope and pray that you haven’t changed your mind and invited one of the local fellows to call. If so, he’d better have a hard jaw because I fully intend to punch it for him.”
Virginia smiled at the attempted humor. He was missing her. Just as she had been missing him.
But there still was no date for his return. With slow steps Virginia started off for home. She needed to get her lunch so she could get back to work on time.
Belinda was standing at the gate, waving a hand excitedly in the air. “You’re an auntie again!” she called down the street when Virginia was in earshot.
“Really!” Virginia squealed back and quickened her step. “When?”
“The call just came,” cried Belinda. “She was born this morning. Around ten.”
“Wonderful!”
For the moment Virginia forgot her disappointment. Her brother Rodney and his lovely Grace had a baby girl. She was anxious to hear all about her. She arrived at the gate, panting slightly. “ Tell me,” she urged her mother. “ Tell me everything.”
Belinda beckoned her in and shut the gate behind them. “Rodney just called—not ten minutes ago. Baby arrived this morning a few minutes past ten. Grace and the baby are doing fine. She weighed seven pounds, ten ounces and is nineteen inches long. He said she has lots of dark hair and dark eyes. Thinks she is going to look like her mother. He says Grace can hardly bear to have her leave the room to go to the nursery.”
“ That’s wonderful,” Virginia said again. “Does Father know?”
“He’s out of town this morning. I could hardly wait for you to get home so I’d have someone to tell.”
“Mr. Manson was hanging a mirror, so I got a late start. What did they name her?”
“Julia. Julia Grace, after her mama.”
“We must let Clara know.”
“Why don’t you hurry your lunch, and we’ll walk over and tell her on your way back
Virginia reached into her pocket to finger her waiting letter. It was all she could do to smile politely at the postman and assure him that he could take his time with the task—whatever it was. Mrs. Pilcher, a new woman in town, chose that moment to enter. She had not yet been assigned a box, so Virginia had to sort through the pile of general delivery to look for her mail. There was nothing there, and Mrs. Pilcher turned away in obvious disappointment. “ Thought there’d be a letter from home,” she mumbled, and Virginia was afraid that tears would spill when she saw the woman’s chin trembling.
“I’m sorry,” answered Virginia, understanding the woman’s distress. “Maybe tomorrow.”
“I tell myself that every day,” the woman said, her voice low. “Every day.”
Yes , thought Virginia, I tell myself every day, too. I know how you feel . Her hand reached into her pocket again. The letter was still waiting to be read.
At long last—though in reality the clock indicated it was only ten past twelve—Mr. Manson hurried through the door. “I’m sorry about that, Virginia. Time caught me right in the middle of hanging a new mirror. Mrs. Manson doesn’t like jobs half done. You just take this extra ten minutes on the other side of your noon hour.”
Virginia nodded and hoped she looked pleasant as she gave Mr. Manson a final nod and headed for the door. She couldn’t even wait until she reached her favorite half-hidden park bench but instead stopped under the nearby weeping birch to pull the letter from her pocket. Her eyes scanned it quickly to see if it gave any indication when Jonathan might return. She would read it more carefully later.
Her eyes soon found the paragraph.
“One of these days I will be knocking on your door. Soon, I hope. It has taken much longer than I had thought to get things in order here. It seems I have been gone forever, and I am most anxious to get back. I do hope and pray that you haven’t changed your mind and invited one of the local fellows to call. If so, he’d better have a hard jaw because I fully intend to punch it for him.”
Virginia smiled at the attempted humor. He was missing her. Just as she had been missing him.
But there still was no date for his return. With slow steps Virginia started off for home. She needed to get her lunch so she could get back to work on time.
Belinda was standing at the gate, waving a hand excitedly in the air. “You’re an auntie again!” she called down the street when Virginia was in earshot.
“Really!” Virginia squealed back and quickened her step. “When?”
“The call just came,” cried Belinda. “She was born this morning. Around ten.”
“Wonderful!”
For the moment Virginia forgot her disappointment. Her brother Rodney and his lovely Grace had a baby girl. She was anxious to hear all about her. She arrived at the gate, panting slightly. “ Tell me,” she urged her mother. “ Tell me everything.”
Belinda beckoned her in and shut the gate behind them. “Rodney just called—not ten minutes ago. Baby arrived this morning a few minutes past ten. Grace and the baby are doing fine. She weighed seven pounds, ten ounces and is nineteen inches long. He said she has lots of dark hair and dark eyes. Thinks she is going to look like her mother. He says Grace can hardly bear to have her leave the room to go to the nursery.”
“ That’s wonderful,” Virginia said again. “Does Father know?”
“He’s out of town this morning. I could hardly wait for you to get home so I’d have someone to tell.”
“Mr. Manson was hanging a mirror, so I got a late start. What did they name her?”
“Julia. Julia Grace, after her mama.”
“We must let Clara know.”
“Why don’t you hurry your lunch, and we’ll walk over and tell her on your way back
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