“Hi, Daddy, isn't it beautiful?”
“It is.” He smiled down at her, and then lifted her into his arms with ease. He was a powerful man, with the Irish coloring of his forebears. He had black hair, even now, a year shy of fifty. And brilliant blue eyes, which he had bestowed on both of his children. And in spite of her blond hair, Liz's eyes were a soft brown, sometimes almost hazel. But Annie's hair was almost white it was so fair. And as she smiled into her father's eyes and rubbed her tiny nose playfully against his, she looked like an angel. He set her down gently next to him, and then reached up to kiss his wife, as an affectionate look passed between them.
“How was your day?” she asked warmly. They had been married for twenty-two years, and most of the time, when life's petty aggravations weren't nibbling at them, they seemed more in love than ever. They had married two years after Liz graduated from college. She'd already been a teacher by then, and it had taken seven years for Tommy to appear. They had almost given up hope and old Dr. Thompson had never really figured out why she either couldn't get, or stay, pregnant. She had had three miscarriages before Tommy was born, and it seemed like a miracle to them when he finally came. And even more so when Annie was born ten years later. They admitted easily that they were blessed, and the children gave them all the joy that they had hoped and expected.
“I got the oranges in from Florida today,” John said as he sat down and picked up his pipe. There was a fire in the fireplace, and the house smelled of gingerbread and popcorn. “I'll bring some home tomorrow.”
“I love oranges!” Annie clapped her hands, and then climbed on his lap, while Bess put both of her paws up on John's knees and tried to join them. John pushed the dog away gently, and Liz came down the ladder to kiss him again and offer him a glass of hot cider.
“Sounds too good to turn down.” He smiled, and then followed her into the kitchen a moment later, silently admiring her trim figure. He was holding Annie's hand, and it was only moments after when the front door slammed, and Tommy came in, with a pink nose and bright red cheeks, carrying his ice skates.
“Mmm …smells good … hi, Mom … hi, Dad …hey, squirt, what did you do today? Eat all of your mom's cookies?” He ruffled her hair and gave her a squeeze, getting her face wet with his own. It was freezing outside, and snowing harder every moment.
“If it stops snowing by then. If this keeps up, you won't even be able to find the pond,” he said, munching on one of his mother's delicious cookies. They were mouthwatering, and they were all Tommy could think of, as his mother carefully took off her apron. She wore a neat blouse and a full gray skirt, and it always pleased John to notice that she still had the figure she'd had when he first met her in high school. She'd been a freshman when he was a senior, and for a long time it had embarrassed him to admit that he was in love with a girl so young, but eventually everyone had figured it out. They teased them at first, but after a while, everyone took them for granted. He'd gone to work for his father the following year, and she had spent another seven years finishing high school and college, and then two more working as a teacher. He had waited a long time for her, but he never doubted for a minute that it was worth it. Everything they had ever really wanted or cared about had come to them slowly, like their children. But all the good things in their lives had been worth the wait. They were happy now. They had everything they had always wanted.
“I've got a game tomorrow afternoon,” Tommy mentioned casually as he gobbled up two more cookies.
“The day before Christmas Eve?” his mother asked, surprised. “You'd think people would have other things to do.” They always went to his games, unless something really major happened to prevent it. John had played ice hockey too, and football. He had loved it too. Liz was a little less sure, she didn't want Tommy to get injured. A couple of the boys had lost teeth in ice hockey games over the years, but Tommy was careful, and pretty lucky. No broken bones, no major injuries, just a lot of sprains and bruises, which his father claimed were all part of the fun.
“He's a boy for heaven's sake, you can't wrap him up in cotton wool forever.” But secretly she admitted to herself sometimes that she would have liked to. Her children were so precious to her, she never wanted anything bad to happen to them, or to John. She was a woman who cherished her blessings.
“Was today your last day of school before Christmas?” Annie asked him with interest, and he nodded with a grin. He had lots of plans for the holidays, many of which included a girl named Emily he'd had his eye on since Thanksgiving. She had just moved to Grinnell that year. Her mom was a nurse and her father was a doctor. They had moved from Chicago, and she was pretty cute. Cute enough for Tommy to ask her to several of his hockey games. But he had gone no further than that yet. He was going to ask her to go to the movies with him the following week, and maybe even do something with him on New Year's Eve, but he hadn't gotten up the courage yet to ask her.
Annie knew he liked Emily too. She had seen him staring at Emily one day when they had gone to the pond, and run into her. She was there skating with some of her friends and one of her sisters. Annie thought she was okay, but she couldn't see why Tommy was that crazy about her. She had long, shiny dark hair, and she was a pretty fair skater. But she didn't say much to him, she just kept looking over at them, and then as they left, she made a big fuss over Annie.
“She just did that because she likes you,” she explained matter-of-factly, as they walked home, with Tommy carrying Annie's ice skates.
“What makes you say that?” he asked, trying to sound cool, but managing to look both awkward and nervous.
“She kept looking at you goo-goo-eyed all the time when you were skating.” Annie flung her long blond hair knowingly over her shoulder.
“What do you mean, 'goo-goo-eyed'?”
“You know what I mean. You know, she's crazy about you. That's why she was nice to me. She has a little sister too, and she's never that nice to her. I told you, she likes you.”
“You know too much, Annie Whittaker. Aren't you supposed to be playing with dolls or something?” He tried to look unaffected by what she'd said, and then reminded himself of how dumb it was to worry about how he looked to his five-and-a-half-year-old sister.
“You really like her, don't you?” She was needling him then, and giggled as she asked him.
“Why don't you mind your own business?” He sounded sharp with her, which was rare, and Annie didn't pay any attention.
“I think her older sister is a lot cuter.”
“Ill keep that in mind, in case I ever want to go out with a senior.”
“What's wrong with seniors?” Annie looked baffled by the distinction.
“Nothing. Except that she's seventeen years old,” he explained, and Annie nodded wisely.
“That's too old. I guess Emily is okay then.”
“Thank you.”
“You're welcome,” she said seriously, as they reached home, and went inside to drink hot chocolate and get warm. In spite of her comments about the girls in his life, he really liked being with her. Annie always made him feel enormously loved, and extremely important. She worshiped him, and she made no bones about it. She adored him. And he loved her just as much.
She sat on his lap that night before she went to bed, and he read her her favorite stories. He read the shortest one to her twice, and then their mother took her off to bed, and he sat and chatted with his father. They talked about Eisenhower's election the month before, and the changes it might bring. And then they talked, as they always did, about the business. His father wanted him to get a degree in agriculture, with a minor in economics. They believed in basic, but important things, like family, and kids, and the sanctity of marriage, and honesty, and being helpful to their friends. They were much loved and respected in the community. And people always said about John Whittaker that he was a good husband, a fine man, and a fair employer.
Tommy went off with some of his friends that night. The weather was so bad he didn't even ask to borrow the car, he just walked to his closest friend, and then came home at eleven-thirty. They never had to worry about
