Árdís - 01.01.1953, Síða 57

Ársrit Bandalags lúterskra kvenna
55
wheeled the carriage along. Seated on a bench at a trestle table in
the park, she drank a soft drink from a bottle, listening with interest
to the talk flowing around her. These women were occupying the
homes of her friends, now retired, and were strangers to her. She
had had no inclination to meet these young homemakers, had felt
she and they had nothing in common. But now they did. Love of
children had brought them together.
And walking back home behind the carriage, she felt an
awakened interest, and looked forward to meeting her friends at
the park the next day.
Now there was a tang of burning leaves in the air, and Grace
had finished planting her tulip bulbs. By now she knew all the new
comers on the street, and liked them, and was asked to teas, and for
car rides, and to picnics. Going out to shop, she left Cecilia May
with Alice Peake, and often took care of her friends’ children while
they went out. She was in excellent health, and quite content
except for one fact; Dr. Mike and Marge—both of whom she had
become very fond—had quarreled, and Marge had resigned as nurse
at Children’s Hospital, and was leaving town.
Grace gave Cecilia May the last spoonful of her lunch, then
rolled her high chair into the living room, to the piano. “Now we
shall have some music,” she said. She sat down at the piano and as
she played Percy Grainger’s “Country Gardens”, Grace watched the
little girl, jiggling her plump legs and arms in unrhythmic joy.
Then accompanying herself as she sang, “Shortnin’ Bread”, she
watched the child with wide open mouth sing, “Ah, ah, ah,” in a
monotone.
Impulsively, Grace went to Cecilia May and buried her face
in the thick, curly red hair, and nuzzled the soft neck. The child
patted her face and gurgled with love and pleasure.
“You’re musical,” Grace said. “You’re going to play the piano,
and sing.” She stood there gazing through the window with un-
seeing eyes, knowing she would not share the little girl’s future.
Someone else would have that pleasure. Knowing, now that the
child was healthy, and attractive, someone would adopt her. She
realized that Cecilia May no longer needed her.
Her reverie was broken by the sound of the door bell. Opening
the door she was surprised to see Dr. Mike at this time of day.