When Tomorrow Comes by Janette Oke Read Free Book Online Page B

a nice fresh color.”
    “It’s very popular right now,” spoke up Mary. “I suppose, like everything else, it will need something new in the future. It no doubt will soon be dated. But for now . . .” She shrugged. “You know what they say, ‘The only thing constant is change.’ Or something like that.”
    Except in the North, thought Christine. In the North things have stayed the same for generation after generation. And they will go on staying the same. That’s what I like about the North. Well, at least, that’s one thing I like .
    They shed their wraps and were shown to their rooms, then invited to the drawing room for a refreshing cup of tea and newly baked scones. There was no flickering fire in the fireplace.
    “We really don’t need it now, because the central heating’s so effective,” practical Mary explained. “We only light it if we feel sentimental. This is so much less messy.”
    But Christine missed the dancing of the flames and the crackle of burning logs. Central heating could not fill that need.
    “So our Henry is getting married,” Mary noted. “Wonderful. He stopped in and introduced us to his bride-to-be. She seems so sweet. And that little boy. Isn’t he a darling? You must be thrilled, Elizabeth.”
    The talk swirled around Christine. It was clear the two women had much to talk about and were set to enjoy hours and hours of each other’s company. Should she sit and listen or set her empty cup aside with a smile and retreat to her room? Or perhaps she could excuse herself with the need for some exercise. But she felt content. Lazy. At length she squirmed herself into a comfortable position in the overstuffed easy chair and settled down to enjoy the rise and fall of the familiar voices.
    Dinner that evening was a rather boisterous affair. The table was crowded with family. Two high chairs and their tiny occupants pushed their way in between parents at either end of the table. The baby girl had been named Elizabeth in honor of her great-aunt, a fact that Elizabeth cooed and gushed over. The little boy, two months younger than his cousin, was named Matthew. He had large brown eyes and heavy lashes. Christine was sure she had never seen a prettier baby. Other little ones sat on stacked phone books or small orange crates placed on dining room chairs. The older two—seven and ten years old— were able to sit in adult-sized chairs. The boy was a little saucy but the girl quite sedate and grown-up in manner. Christine remembered them from her time spent in the city, but they had changed considerably over the years since she had left. They either did not remember her well or pretended they did not. At any rate, they responded only politely to her overtures.
    The talk swirled around the table like incoming breakers, punctuated frequently by splashes of laughter. It was enough to make one feel dizzy. Elizabeth seemed to revel in it. Christine realized for the first time just how much her mother must have missed contact with family. No wonder her father had suggested she come early to store up once again.
    At the thought of her father, Christine felt a twinge. Already she missed him. How was he faring all alone? Certainly he had no cause to go hungry with all the food her mother had left for him. Was he lonely? Did he miss the stir of his wife in the kitchen? The conversation before the open fire of an evening?
    Perhaps he enjoys a few quiet moments to sort through his own thoughts, concluded Christine. We all need quiet times now and then .
    But we all need communication as well, her silent soliloquy continued. I would have never guessed that Mother felt some of the things she shared today. In the future, I must be more . . . more open, more prepared to listen. To sense her needs .
    It was certainly something new to think about.

CHAPTER
F ive
    The next days passed pleasantly with much activity—some of it fun and some relating to wedding preparations. Actually, that was fun, too, Christine