Miss Hawkins stayed on for the funeral “at no extra charge,” Papa told everyone with deep appreciation. She even wore a black dress like a member of the family, having brought the garment along with this occasion in mind. What moved Papa the most was that Mr. Carson, the president of the London Furniture Company, sent a pillow of pink carnations, a token of the esteem in which he held Papa even more than a tribute to the dead. Papa showed the pillow to the girls with tears in his eyes.

“I want you girls to realize the kind of man your Papa works for. I want you to remember this when you grow up, and if Mr. Carson ever needs a friend and I’m not here I want you to take my place.”

The worst thing for Marcia about the funeral was having to sit on Aunt Lizzie’s slippery lap (it had no shelf at all) and seeing grown-up people cry. Now she had feelings, Marcia thought, when the quartette of Papa’s brother Masons sang “Rocked in the Cradle of the Deep,” but it made her angry to have feelings and lose the strange sense of sorrow. She didn’t like to see her father crying on Aunt Lois’s shoulder, either, because feelings seemed to have made him forget that he didn’t like Aunt Lois one bit.

Their father held them up, one at a time, to look at their mother, lying on the pillow of carnations in the clothes Papa had gotten for her at the Fair Store that time.

“Doesn’t your Mama look beautiful?” Aunt Lizzie crooned, standing behind them.

“I don’t like her looking that way,” said Marcia stiffly. “I don’t like her hair fixed that way.”

They weren’t allowed to ride to the cemetery because Florrie was still screaming, and the two others had to wheel her around the house in her go-cart. The undertaker’s men came then to take away the rented chairs. Aunt Lizzie made a final boilerful of potato salad and then vanished with her massive umbrella, never to be seen again in London Junction. Florrie was whisked back to Aunt Lois’s, and the two girls were put to bed in Mama’s own bed. It smelled of disinfectant and carnations, and Marcia couldn’t sleep. In the night she suddenly knew what she wished. She wished Mama had taken her with her and let her lie on the carnation pillow, but of course it would never have happened that way. It would have been Florrie or Lena, because the middle one never got taken any place.

PART TWO

The Shepherdess in the Snowstorm Ball

14

HODGE STREET WAS the greatest adventure since the day they moved to London Junction. Hodge Street was in Cleveland and was the particular location that Mrs. Carmel, in her infinite wisdom, had chosen as the ideal spot for Grandma to “branch out.” The old lady was a little chagrined to find her young kin moving in on her new-won independence, but Harry, as she confided with a sigh to Mrs. Carmel, could always get around her. Somebody had to look after the poor kids. After their mother’s funeral the children grew accustomed to being addressed as “you poor kids” with sad head-shakings. They grew accustomed to hearing their problems discussed candidly wherever they went, and were surprised to discover their future was not a matter of their own choosing but dependent on who was “willing” to look after them.