During the months before and after Alanna's birth, her mother and Ruth Ewell had become friends. She had continued working for them on a daily basis until her husband passed away four years ago. At that time, Elinore had insisted that Ruth move in and live with them.
Because of the close, almost sister-like relationship between her mother and Ruth, Alanna had never looked on her as a domestic employee. She had become more of an adopted aunt than a paid housekeeper. Since her mother's stroke two years ago, Ruth had been the rock that held the household together.
"Her left arm is still a bit numb, but the doctor says she's doing nicely. Of course, Elly insists that she's as fit as a fiddle," Ruth confided in a skeptical tone, using her pet name for Alanna's mother. "But I notice she always lies down for a couple of hours in the afternoon, so she isn't as strong as she pretends." She waved a hand, slightly gnarled with arthritis, toward the living room. "You two go and make yourselves comfortable and I'll bring some coffee from the kitchen."
"Thanks anyway," Kurt shook his dark head regretfully, "but I'm afraid I'll have to pass. I'd better got back to work."
"Surely you can spare time for one cup," Ruth cajoled.
"No, I—"
"Ruth?" Elinore Powell's questioning voice came from the stairwell to the second floor. "Who's there?"
"It's Alanna and her young man." The answer was shouted back with a beaming smile on the couple. "She's come home a day early."
Alanna slid a sideways glance at Kurt, wondering if he minded being referred to as her young man. He caught the look and smiled at her gently, slipping an arm around her waist as if to reinforce the claim that they belonged together. A warm, pleasant feeling of being cared for stole over her. Soft contentment was etched in her expression as she turned to meet the petite woman gliding gracefully down the stairs.
Always fragile in appearance, Elinore Powell now looked even more delicate. Her heart had never been strong from childhood. Yet there was an aura of resiliency about her that led one to believe she could overcome anything, even ill health. There was a translucent quality to her complexion and an undiminished sparkle in her eyes. The silver gilt to her once blond hair added to her ephemeral loveliness.
"It's so good to have you home." Her mother's voice trembled with emotion as she embraced Alanna, a shimmer of happy tears in her ageless eyes. With innate grace, Elinore Powell turned to Kurt. "Were you an accomplice in Alanna's plot to surprise us?" she smiled.
"Yes," he nodded. "She phoned me."
"So you could meet her at the airport," Elinore concluded astutely. "I know it probably isn't necessary, but I want to thank you for meeting her and bringing her safely home." Alanna hesitated for an instant, feeling the flick of Kurt's gaze on her, but she didn't bother to correct her mother's impression that Kurt had met her at the airport as planned. "I heard Ruth mention coffee," her mother continued. "You will stay for a few minutes, won't you, Kurt?"
"I really must get back to the plant," he refused a second time. "We had some equipment problems this afternoon. It was good seeing you again, Mrs. Powell, and you too, Mrs. Ewell. Goodbye, Alanna." He bent his head and unself-consciously brushed a light kiss across her lips. "Seven?"
"I'll be ready," she promised.
With a polite nod at the two older women, he left. Alanna didn't try to conceal the glow of pride in her violet eyes. Kurt Matthews was a handsome, intelligent man. No girl could fail to feel proud if he was interested in her. Her look was noted by both women, who exchanged knowing glances.
"Why don't you bring that coffee into the living room, Ruth," Elinore Powell suggested. "I'm sure Alanna would like a cup after her flight. There's plenty of time to unpack later."
Alanna had no objections to the idea. In truth, she suddenly felt in need of a cup of coffee. So much had happened since the plane touched down that a cup of coffee seemed doubly inviting.
"Come on." Elinore Powell linked her arm with her daughter's and led her toward the living room. "You still haven't told me how you managed to leave a day early."
Settled on the traditionally styled sofa of yellow and green print, Alanna explained about the last-minute rescheduling of her final exams and discussed how she felt she had done in the various classes, laughing with her mother and Ruth over some of the peculiarities of her professors. Then she had plied them with questions about what had been happening at home and for news of some of her former school chums, especially Jessie, Ruth's daughter. She and Jessie had been the closest friends, but Jessie had married almost immediately after high school graduation and moved out of state.
Through letters and Ruth, they had still kept in touch.
Jessie had recently sent a group of snapshots of her and her family and Ruth quite proudly showed them to Alanna. "Hero's Jessie with little Amy. She's three months old there. Isn't she a little doll, with that button nose and dark hair?" Alanna agreed and was handed another photograph. "That's Mikey. He's growing so fast. Jessie said in her letter that he's a typical terrible two-year-old."
Grazing at the photographs, Alanna couldn't help thinking how very happy Jessie looked. There was a positive bloom about her cheeks, especially in the photograph where she was holding the baby and looking at her husband John. Alanna didn't know him very well, but he was a good-looking man in a solid sort of way.
Theirs had been a whirlwind courtship and radiant was the only way to describe Jessie after three years of marriage. Alanna hoped that was the way it would be for her, too. She tried to visualize a picture of herself and Kurt. But before the image could form, Ruth was speaking again.
"Now that they have a healthy boy and girl, Jessie thinks the family will be complete with no more additions. Sam and Andrew each have four, but she has no intention of trying to keep up with her brothers," Ruth stated, referring to her sons. The mantel clock in the dining room Chimed. "Heavens!" Ruth exclaimed. "If we're going to eat dinner at a decent hour, I'd better get started."
"I'll help," Mrs. Powell offered, starting to rise from the sofa as Ruth straightened.
"You stay here and talk to Alanna," the woman admonished firmly. "You haven't seen her since Easter."
"If you need me, just call." Her mother didn't pursue her offer and Alanna was reminded of her shaky health.
As Ruth left the room, she turned her attention back to the photographs, but her thoughts were on her mother. It was still difficult to accept after all this time that her mother's activities were limited. She still exuded a vitality that belied her weakness. A sigh came from her mother, wistfully sad, drawing Alanna's gaze.
"Is something wrong, Mother?"