At The Mercado... continued

Armando took the twins off to see the livestock that was kept at a distance and downwind from the shoppers. Abuela led the rest of their group toward the fruit and vegetable stalls, nodding in response to greetings from shopkeepers and shoppers alike.

Clearly, Regina thought, everyone knew and liked Elena's grandmother. She gaped at the wide variety of colorful fruits and vegetables, the fabrics and clothing, the trinkets and baubles. With Abuela setting a rapid pace, Regina found she was falling behind as she tried to get a better look at some blouses with wide colorful collars of embroidered flowers.

"Come on, chica! Abuela's not going to wait for you!" Elena called back to her.

Regina ran to catch up, noting as she did another stall with what looked like pretty silver bracelets.

She was a little out of breath when she caught up to Elena and her grandmother. Abuela was selecting some oddly shaped yellow-orange fruits, smelling them and discussing something in rapid Spanish with the shopkeeper.

Regina leaned in close to Elena, watching the pair in serious negotiations. "What is that she's holding?"

"The papaya? It's a fruit," Elena replied, idly rolling an unripe plum in her hand. " They have a strong smell that some people don't like, but the taste is sweet and delicious. We'll have some for dessert with dinner today. You'll see, I bet you love papaya. I know I do!"

"Papaya?" Regina said, trying the word out in her mouth. "It's such an odd name. And the shape is like nothing I've ever seen."

"I had a kitten named Papaya when I was little," Elena laughed. "He was an orange tabby. But he definitely wasn't the same shape as the fruit."

Regina chuckled and shook her head. "Papaya? That's crazy. I never had a pet. We had barn cats to keep down the mice and Pappy had a dog once to help herd the cattle. But they were working animals and not pets. I think it might be nice to have a pet. I don't suppose we could sneak one past Miss Peale though, do you?"

"You don't have a roommate, you might be able to do it," Elena said thoughtfully. "But unless you got a someone to share your room who was understanding and liked animals, I don't see how it would work."

"I guess not," Regina said with a sigh. Abuela watched as the shopkeeper packed her papayas carefully and added a bag of plums -- ripe ones to her bundle. Abuela paid and the trio moved slowly down the rows of stalls with goods laid out for their approval.

"Maybe," Elena began hopefully, "Mama and Papa would let you have one of our kittens. You could keep it at the rancho and come visit it whenever you wanted. And you'll be staying with us for Christmas, so you'd have plenty of time to play with it. We can ask Papa tonight."

Elena was clearly excited but Regina didn't know. It wouldn't seem like her pet if she didn't see it every day. But she hated to turn down Elena's thoughtful offer.

"Oh, look!" Regina cried, grabbing Elena's hand and pulling her over to the booth with the embroidered blouses. "These are so pretty!"

Elena laughed and picked up one of the white cotton blouses with a thick ring of red flowers around the neck. She held it up in front of Regina and looked appraisingly at her friend.

"It looks good with your hair. Do you like the red or the blue flowers better?" Elena turned and said something quickly to her grandmother.

"Por supuesto, Elena. Un regalo para su amiga. Es un buen idea, mija." And Abuela began the process of bargaining for the blouse.

"In Mexico, these are what the Indian women wear. They are called huipil and can be decorated with flowers or fruit or even animals. There are simple ones for every day and more elaborate ones for formal occasions. Now you will have one too. Abuela approves. She says you have good taste."

By the time Armando and the twins returned, they had checked out nearly every stall and booth. Regina had picked out matching bracelets of twisted silver for herself and Regina. Abuela had bought enough fruit and vegetables for an army. Armando loaded the wagon while the twins ate pieces of beef that had been skewered on sticks and cooked over an open fire. The girls were tired but happy and waited to ride back to the rancho and help with the early evening meal.

Regina was finding she liked the pace of life on the rancho.

Arrival

Josephine didn't notice she was holding her breath until Grant told her for the fourth time to keep up. They were walking to the main entrance of the new school she was supposed to attend. Jo was almost willing herself to faint so Grant might reconsider and they'd be swept back home by gallant horses, frothing and giddy.

They reached Miss Porter's office and entered the open door. The secretary had her back turned and she was filing a folder bulging with papers. Grant and Jo were so quiet, she kept her back to them.

"Pardon me, ma'am, we're here to see Miss Porter," Grant began. The woman whirled about in her long skirt and seemed startled.

"Oh, goodness, you gave me a fright, I didn't hear you dear!" Miss Hendricks smiled after a couple gasps of calming air, "You must be Josephine, and this is your brother, yes?"

"Yes, ma'am," they said in unison.

"Oh, please, you can call me Miss Hendricks, the ma'am bit makes me feel a little too old." Miss Hendricks was a kindly woman, with greying hair pinned neatly in a chignon at her neck, she had warm amber eyes and smiled with very white teeth. Grant and Josephine relaxed a little, and looked at each other with hope.

"You can wait here for the moment, Miss Porter should be back shortly,I'll send for one of the girls to have her come right away," she said, leaving the room to Grant and Josephine.

"See, you'll be okay here, Miss Hendricks seems nice," Grant tried to sound optimistic.

"Yes, but I don't think I'll be having classes with her, or be rooming with her..." Josephine sounded wistful.

"Well, if she's any indication, you won't have much to worry about, except when mama sends you cookies," Grant teased softly, and Josephine smiled.

She hoped her brother was right. And this place didn't look so awful, there was a fresh breeze with a slight hint of the brine Jo remembered from a trip to the coast one summer long ago. It reminded her of Mitchell and how they had all played in the surf, even though the water was bitingly cold.

The Mercado

The first pinkish rays of the sunrise were kissing the tips of the San Rafael mountains that separated the coastal foothills that sloped down to the sea from the drier interior valleys. Regina and Elena awoke to the frenzied shakes of Elena's younger siblings. The ten-year-old twins laughed and bounced the girls until Elena finally sat up and yelled at them to go away. Regina was laughing when she swung her feet onto the woolen rug that covered most of the floor.

"Are they always like that?" Regina asked as she washed and dressed quickly.

"Always, " Elena agreed. "And Pablo and Paco are coming with us to the mercado so get used to it."

Breakfast was a quick but delicious meal of chocolate, beaten with thick milk and spiced with cinnamon, and sweet pastries. As usual, the family laughed and talked loudly and the noise was joyous to Regina's ears. She said little but drank two cups of the chocolate -- and Abuelita heartily approved.

"You are too skinny, Regina. Too skinny," she said, squeezing the Kentucky girl's upper arm. Elena's grandmother was far thinner than Regina and her once-dark hair was now generously sprinkled with heavy strands of iron gray. Abuela also said Regina's name in her Spanish tongue, pronouncing the 'g' as an 'h.' Regina didn't mind at all, she thought her name sounded elegant and somehow exotic when Abuelita spoke it.

Those who were traveling to the mercado, Abuelita, the twins, Elena and Regina rode in the wagon, drawn by two horses and driven by Armando. Armando was nearly a grown man, ready for a home and family of his own but clearly it was Abuelita who was in charge of the group. From the rancho, it was a easy ride down to a cluster of homes in a small village near the rancho. Elena's family rancho was several hours away from the school, and the mercado wasn't as large as the one Abuela has taken them to in the 'big town' of Santa Barbara.

The twins went off with Armando who promised to keep them out of trouble and warned Elena not to allow their grandmother to lift anything heavy. "Tell her she can pay for it and anything she buys, I will load into the wagon when the boys and I get back. She is not to do any lifting. Promise?"

"Prometo, Armando." Elena and her family switched back and forth between Spanish and English almost interchangeably. Regina was getting used to it.

A Visit to the Rancho

Elena giggled a little as one of the other students struggled with a math problem at the chalkboard at the front of the class. The teacher, Mrs. Winter, shot her a stern look of reproach and she rolled her lips inward, quenching the smile. Regina sat across from Elena, trying to ignore her friend's antics. Regina wasn't all that strong in math herself and she knew she didn't want anyone laughing at her. For the most part, Elena was sweet and generous but she wasn't always careful about the other girls' feelings. And not everyone at Miss Porter's School was as willing to overlook the remarks and laughter as Regina was.

Regina's first weekend at Elena's family rancho was like two days in a foreign country. Almost no one spoke English, except as an afterthought. And since Regina knew no Spanish at all, she understood very little of what was going on around her. The food was delicious and she shared Elena's room, sleeping in one of the two comfortable beds in the spacious room. Even in the heat of the Indian Summer, the entire rancho was cool. Elena explained it was due to the thick adobe walls and the tile roof. The abundance of plants and flowers and the lovely pool in the central courtyard added to the cool atmosphere and filled the air with their scent.

Elena's family was a fairly typical Californio family with several generations under one roof, even some cousins sharing the home. They were a lively, happy group, talking at the same time and when meal times came, the long trestle table was filled with bowls and platters and everyone ate and talked and enjoyed one another's company. To Regina, whose childhood had been spent in the company of adults, serious and quiet, it took some getting used to. She loved it but there was no way she could follow all the conversations at the table, especially since at least part of every one was in Spanish.

"You have to teach me to speak your language, Elena," she said one night as they were lying in bed, supposedly going to sleep. She rolled over onto her elbow to look at her friend in the moon's rays. "I have no idea what anyone's saying and it sounds so interesting."

Elena laughed and threw off her covers. "It's still too warm to sleep," she said. "So how about we start your lessons now?" She propped herself up on one elbow and waited for Regina's answer.

"Sure," Regina replied eagerly. "So what is 'novia'? That is what your brothers were saying, right?"

"Yes, yes, Luis was teasing Armando about a girl they both know. Armando seems to have crush on her. He says he doesn't but I think he does. And Luis probably does too. A 'novia' is a sweetheart, like a girlfriend kind of. Someone you're courting. It's the feminine form. For a boy, it would be 'novio'."

"Novio," Regina said, testing the feel of the word in her mouth. "I like it. Novio. Do you have a novio, Elena?"

Elena giggled, "No! Papa and Abuelita would never allow it. Nice girls from good families do not throw themselves at boys. They keep company with young men from good families and with duenas -- chaperones selected by the family to protect our honor."

Regina listened, thinking it was different but similar to back home in Kentucky. Chaperones weren't uncommon but Regina also knew there were many ways to escape the watchful eyes of duenas, parents and chaperones.

"Some girls bribe their duenas... or their novios do, to allow them time alone together," Elena said, her voice a low whisper as though she couldn't afford to let her parents hear this heresy.

Regina nodded, then realized Elena probably couldn't see her head moving in the dark. "Sounds like home," Regina replied. " Girls have chaperones and they make it a game to get free and spend time alone with their boys. They call it sparking -- not slipping away from their chaperone, but the courting."

"Sparking. I like that. It sounds... exciting!" Elena whispered.

"Mija!" Abuelita said from the doorway. "Time to be quiet and go to sleep, Elena. Tomorrow we're all going to the mercado and you'll want to be well rested."

"Si, Abuela, buenas noches."

"Buenas noches, Elena. Buenas noches, Regina."

Traveling

Josephine's body was angled to the small, curtained window inside the buggy, her stare intent on the constantly changing foliage. She was trying to keep her entire focus on the outside world--away from Grant, away from thoughts of her family banishing her to some damp, salty place she was determined to hate.

Grant was across from his sullen sister, but the buggy was so small, their knees knocked every now and then. He fancied Jospehine's eyes growing soft and glassy with each thud, but after a few moments, her visage steeled once more. For two and a half hours, they rode like this--air stifled with anger and hurt, two siblings too baffled and undone with Mitch's loss to comfort the other.

The sun was easing its way into the lower section of clear peachy-blue sky and Grant decided he had had enough.

"Jo," he said with the authority of an older brother.

Silence from his sister.

"Jo," he said with more anger than he wanted.

She turned to him and her eyes were like murky inkwells, and suddenly he felt like the careless child who had sullied them with his selfishness and self-pity.

"What?" she asked plainly.

"This is stupid," he began softer, "how can I tell mama and papa..." he stopped, not wanting to continue in something that would be irrelevant. "Josephine, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for leaving you alone by the riverbanks when I should've been picking flowers with you. Sorry for sleeping late while mama and papa told you about this. I might have helped...I might have made you feel..." Grant stopped and thought for a second, "I don't know, maybe it would all have been this same awful empty feeling. I'm just so sorry."

Josephine held his words in her ears for a moment, letting each one trickle into a makeshift sort of sense. She wanted to yell back that he should have been picking flowers and been up to hear how mama and papa declared her future. He should have done it all and she was angry that he didn't. She wanted to yell all this and hit him in the chest and shoulders--beating him like a tiny monkey with cymbals she had seen in one of the town shop's newspaper ads. But there was no point now. The carriage bumped happily along, the sun shone through the window lighting the silly curtains and she was still being sent away.

"Grant..." she paused, shifting in her seat, "Grant, promise me you'll write. Promise you'll send me scraps of home and tell me how mama and papa miss me."

Grant had to swallow back the hard knot in his throat and look at his boot for a spell. He couldn't cry in front of his sister--she was the one about to start something new and frightening--even if he was still clinging to his own sorrows.

"I promise I'll keep your letter box full--I'll make mama and papa send you your favorite cookies and...I'll think of something you like and surprise you in each letter," Grant sounded proud, like he had mended a button on a shirt with many more years of wear left in it.

"Just don't forget about me..." Jo sounded so small and pitiful, Grant took the rest of the small bench next to her and hooked his arm about her neck in what usually ended in a rough hair-tousling. Instead, Grant kissed the top of her head and laid his chin there. "I'll make sure you'll be okay, little bird-bum. Even if I have to come back down here and kick you in the pants myself..." he laughed and she shook her head and gave him a pinch in the arm.

Josephine fell asleep like this as they passed through San Francisco. Her sleep the light, dreamless rest of someone not wanting to know how far they are traveling, and still knowing that distance must be crossed again to get back home.

Plans

The Pacific Ocean stretched out before them, immense and full of mysterious depths. Regina has seen it the day she and Pappy arrived in San Francisco. During the long ride down the coast to Santa Barbara, she'd gazed out on it, wondering at its size and what secrets it held. When they'd arrived at their destination, Pappy had asked directions and they'd walked down the gently sloping streets to a wide sweep of white sand and, hand in hand, stared out at the biggest body of water either had ever seen.

"Pappy?" she said. "Can I wade in it? Please?"

"As long as you don't get your skirts wet. We have to meet with Miss Porter in an hour." Pappy smiled and let go of her hand. He stood on the sand, watching his granddaughter as she laughed and romped, playing with the waves as they washed up onto the shore, cascading over her toes. Regina ran back and forth as though tempting the waves to catch her. Finally, it was time to collect her shoes and put them back on; time for their meeting with Miss Porter.

Now, as she watched the waves, she thought of her grandfather and wondered what he was doing right now. Regina and Elena had been signed out on a sunny Saturday by Elena's abuela. The old woman was pretty easy to talk into side trips, so even though they were supposed to be buying new shoes and long-sleeved blouses for the coming winter, Elena had begged her grandmother to let them visit the seashore for a short time.

"You're quiet, Reg," Elena said. Try as she might, Regina could not convince Elena not to shorten her name to Reg. Regina hated the nickname, but Elena had special names for almost everyone. As Elena's new names went, Reg was better than most so Regina had given up trying to change the girl's habit.

"Mmm, just thinking." Regina said, sighing.

"About home?"

"Yeah. Just about Pappy and home." Regina said. "Kentucky's so far away."

"You'll go home. Maybe for Christmas, right?" Elena said, her dark eyes earnest as she tried to put Regina in a better frame of mind. Elena watched her friend's face as she pulled long dark strands of hair out of her face. The breeze was cool and filled with the scent of saltwater.

"No," Regina said with a deep breath. If she didn't take in several big breaths, she was going to cry. She couldn't help it. The letter from Pappy had only just arrived and each word he wrote was like an arrow through her heart. The Christmas holiday was almost two months away, yet nearly everyone at Miss Porter's already had some sort of plans for the break. And everyone was looking forward to the end of classes, even if it meant the grueling ordeal of final exams.

"No?"

"Pappy wrote to me. It would take too long to get back home to Kentucky. And we only have three weeks between semesters." Regina's voice sounded small and sad. "I have to stay in the dormitory. With Miss Peale and the old maid teachers."

"Oooh," Elena said gently but with a small smile. "A house full of women, what could be better? Not even a real house. A school. And I bet they'd make you go to chapel too."

"Being home with my Pappy and all the animals? Can you believe I actually miss feeding the chickens? And doing my chores?" Regina asked incredulously.

"Shhh!" Elena said, looking around dramatically. "Don't let Miss Peale hear you say that! Everyone's favorite house mother would be happy to load you up with more chores if she hears you talking like that. She might even think getting some chickens for the school is a good idea. Fresh eggs and chicken and dumplings and things like that!"

Regina smiled and Elena smiled back. She hated seeing her new friend so sad. And Regina seemed sad a lot.

Elena turned to face Regina, "Reg! I have the best idea. What if you came home with me at Christmas? There's plenty of room at the rancho and Mama loves guests. I'll have to check to be sure and I guess you'll need permission. But I don't see how Miss Porter or your abuelo can object. Do you want to? Please? It would be fun. Come on. Say yes. Please?"

At first Regina hadn't wanted to impose, but the more Elena went on about the idea, the more it appealed to her. Besides, Elena was right; who wanted to stay at school for three weeks if you didn't have to?

"Yes," she said, smiling widely. "Yes, yes, yes!"

Regina stood up quickly and pulled Elena to her feet as well. "Come on! Let's go ask. Now! Come on! I'll race you."

Minuet in G

The music teacher was a tiny man, not much taller than the girls at Miss Porter's themselves but he had an air of authority about him that brooked no nonsense. In her initial interview with Pappy, the headmistress had discovered that Regina had learned to play the spinet and had done so for several years. Since Pappy was willing to pay the additional fee for lessons, Regina came to the music room three days a week and sat, with a handful of other girls and practiced on a cardboard keyboard. There was only one piano, an old ornate instrument with a rich, lustrous sound. Regina took turns with Mr. Abrams and the other girls playing it, but the chords reached deep inside her and she felt freed by the music -- when she managed to play it correctly.

The girls were allowed to come into the music room and practice. The students had to sign up and leave the room as they'd found it, but they could play for an hour with no distractions and no interruptions. Regina found herself practicing more and more often. The simple etudes and bacarolles she'd learned from her Gran soon gave way to longer and more complex pieces. Mr. Abrams was delighted with her progress and encouraged her obsession.

Regina was sight reading a new piece, Mozart's Minuet in G a little haltingly when the door to the sunlit room opened and Mr. Abrams entered. He sat, without speaking, behind her and simply listened. When Regina had finished her run-through, he applauded lightly and smiled as she turned to him.

"Very nicely done," he said. "You've never played that piece before, have you?"

"N- no, I found it in the piano bench. It looked like I might be able to play it..." Regina's voice trailed off. She didn't want to sound egotistical by saying any more.

Then another thought occurred to her. "Did I overstay my time, Mr. Abrams?"

"No, child, nothing like that. I've come to see you about something entirely different, Regina," the music teacher replied. He ran a heavily veined hand through his sparse gray hair and smiled at her. "You've been progressing quite well in your piano. Practicing a great deal. Quite motivated, I must say. I've noticed you're dedicated and your ear is very good. You can use more work on your fingerings and on the dynamics, but overall, I think you have a measure of talent, my dear Regina."

Regina could feel a flush rising on her cheeks but bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself from speaking aloud and breaking the spell of whatever was happening.

"I was wondering if you'd be interested in taking more lessons, Regina? I know it would take up your free time, but you should pursue your gifts." Mr. Abrams smiled, a warm kind of paternal smile and pushed his wire-rimmed glasses back onto the bridge of his nose. " There would be no additional charge, of course. Just allow this old man the joy of having a truly talented student once again, please. It would be my honor to work with you -- if you would like to?"

Regina released the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding and slumped slightly on the hard wooden piano bench. This seemed too good to be true. She'd lost everyone she cared about, she was thousands of miles from home, and she missed Kentucky so much her heart ached. Could this be a real offer? Something to pour her heartaches and sorrow into, something to help her forget, at least for a short time, the losses she'd suffered?

Unable to speak, Regina simply nodded.

Mr. Abrams clapped his hands together once again. "Good, good. I'll talk to Miss Porter about your schedule, but we can start tomorrow if you like, Regina."

He rose and walked over to sit beside Regina on the piano bench. He looked at the sheet music and pointed, "This section here should be more allegro, fuller. Do you think you can try it again and this time, use all of that emotion you have inside, Regina. Use it. That's the best thing to do -- get it out and make it into something productive.

"Now, from the beginning..." and he counted off the beat. Regina quickly scanned the page again and poised her hands over the keys, prepared to begin.

More Talk

Malcolm strode into the kitchen with the thought of digging a large fork into the waffles he'd smelled wafting their vanilla scent through the house, but the light smile he wore vanished when he came upon his wife and daughter in an emotional embrace.

He side-stepped to make himself seem occupied with breakfast matters, but Sarah and Jo had already heard him padding down the hall in his morning slippers. They didn't much care though, and Malcolm knew what they were probably speaking of. He poured some milk from the glass jar in the icebox and after he sipped, said a little louder than usual, "Must be from that heffer of yours, Jo, she does make the best milk..." He waited for a reaction, and heard a shuffling of fabric as the women untangled arms.

"How can you tell, Papa," she sniffed, then after a pause, "you always know how to cheer me up." A weak smile glimmered on Jo's lips a moment--a silent "thank you" for her father's sympathy.

"Well, I should know from sweet, Jo, I have two of the best reminders right here," he ruffled her hair, already tousled from her crying.

"Papa," Josephine ventured, "do you think..." she stopped, confused.

"What little bird?" he would call her that whenever he needed to apologize for something, or when he needed her smile again.

"Do you want to send me away?" she asked so pitiously Malcolm had to swallow hard to keep his voice from waivering.

"Josephine, your mother and I don't want to "send" you away--we love you so very much...But we have been worried. We want you to be happy, and we both think that some time away from here might do you good," he tried to give a most sincere face to this last sentiment.

It was his earnest hope that Josephine find solace in a world away from all these familiar sorrows. Every day a schoolmate would nudge his friend and talk of Mitch drowning--another would sidle up to Jo and claim to be her confidante while whispering behind a dainty hand to other girls anything Josephine divulged.

"Papa, what about Grant? Are you sending him away too? Will he come with me?" the hope in her voice made Sarah wince, and Papa saw the faces of his girls and sighed.

"Little bird, you have to understand, this isn't about sending you away--we want you to learn what we can't teach you, to meet girls more your age and see things," Malcolm didn't wait for an answer or excuse, but continued, "We've talked about this for some time, and with Miss Jacob's help, you are going to start at a new school down south."

The room felt thick with tension. Sarah held her breath; Josephine was practically gasping, and Malcolm was trying to inhale and exhale evenly. No one spoke for a moment--then Josephine erupted from her seat and in the same motion flung her plate of cooling food to the floor. "Why would you do this?!" she wailed, and ran to her room.

Sarah's eyes met Malcolm's and he crossed to her. She stood and they pressed their foreheads together with eyes closed, reached for the other's arms and then pulled a little back to look in the other's eyes.

Sarah spoke first, "Are we doing the best thing for her? What if she's right, what if she needs more time..."

"No, love, she's been walking around like a stranger for weeks, I want our Josephine back," he said with sadness. "The only way this will work is if we all agree it's the right thing for her to do--Grant has to be a part too. They were all so close..." Malcolm had to stop himself before he lost his resolve to send his sweet little bird halfway to Mexico.

Syrup ran in ragged seams across the cool wood beams, in the next few days, Sarah could not quite ease out all the sticky liquid from the creases. In the week after Jospehine had embarked on her trip to Santa Barbara with Grant as a chaperone, she would crouch on her smooth kitchen floor, breathing the fading sweetness still infused in her heart.

Waking up to a decision

Josephine awoke to the sound of Bank Swallows outside her open window--that faced the side of the yard against the stream that ran through their property. She smiled, thinking of the tidy nests the little creatures were making in the sand--the families forming. Jo got dressed quickly in the cool air of morning; she walked to the bathroom down the hall and splashed her face in the basin. Sarah was already finishing the dishes from preparing breakfast, and Josephine was met with a heaping plate of waffles with fresh butter and syrup, homemade peppered bacon, and milk from Sugar Bees, their favorite cow. At least it was Jo's favorite cow, she'd always liked Sugar Bees' patches of black and white the best, and swore to her brothers her milk was the sweetest with a hint of honey. Jo looked at the plate and the glass, then her excitement vanished.

"Mama, what's going on? Is someone visiting today?" she asked with concern.

"No sweetheart, no one is coming today," Sarah took a deep breath for what she knew would be difficult.

Sarah paused a moment, then with great care started, "Jo, I wanted to give you something to work on while I tell you what's been on Papa's and my mind. You know, we have noticed you seem so unlike yourself these days..."

Josephine practically dropped the plate on the table, spilling some of the buttery syrup on the oak table. "Mama, I don't understand, you...I...what can I do? I feel like I'm all alone..." she trailed off in a slur of tears, hands covering her face. Josephine slide into the closest chair and laid her head in hands on the table.

Sarah knelt next to her daughter, one hand stroking her back, the other firmly on her wrist. "I know it's hard, I know, but we need to remember how to keep going. Miss Jacobs and I were talking and she thought of a wonderful idea. Do you think you can look at me for a moment?" Sarah asked with such entreaty, Jo couldn't stop herself from raising her head.

"Sweetheart, how would you feel about getting away for a while? Miss Jacobs knows a really nice woman at her old school, and she thinks you'd really enjoy some time in a place that is a little warmer than here."

Josephine searched her mother's face for how she should react--she wanted to please mama so desperately. Her life had been so much sorrow since Mitch was gone. And Jo could feel every tingling pinprick of grief Sarah tried to keep from her serene face.

"How long would I be visiting?" she asked.

"How would you feel about going to school in a place called "Santa Barbara" by the ocean?" Sarah hushed her tone when she said the place, hoping to inspire some excitement.

"But we're not far from the ocean now, mama..." Jo's face began to wither.

"Yes, but down there you could meet some girls your own age and learn things I couldn't teach you."

"But Miss Jacob's teaches me, mama, you just check my work to..." Jo stopped her thought, "Mama, I don't want to go!" Josephine's tears blazed anew on her already ruddy cheeks, sobs wracking her tiny shoulders like little earthquakes.

Sarah held her daughter until her sobs became mere hiccups. She hummed the song she sang to Josephine when she was a baby. It was the only thing that would hush her to dreams.

"Jo," she almost whispered, "don't worry about all this now, we have some time before we have to decide anything." Sarah knew her own words were lies, Miss Jacob's was very clear about the week left to transfer students for mid-semester enrollment. But Sarah also knew she couldn't bear to see her sweet baby girl in so much pain all at once. Josephine was going whether it was under her own volition or theirs.

A Letter Home

Dear Pappy, I miss you you so much. It's so different here. Not bad, but different. I still don't have a roommate but Miss Peale, the housemother, says that sometimes they get new students from other countries in the middle of the term. One of the girls in the next room is from France. And one girl's father is the ambassador to Spain. She stays here while her parents travel all over.

Every morning we have to go to chapel. They kneel in church here, Pappy. They don't make me kneel but I feel strange just sitting there while everyone around me is on their knees on these little padded benches. On Sundays, if we want, we can go down the street to mass at the Catholic mission. Some of the girls go, but I haven't yet. Don't worry about me, I'm still a Calvinist, but the mission is so pretty and I love the candles and the incense.

My best friend is a girl from a Californio family named Reynaldo. Her name is Elena. The way Elena explained it to me, being a Californio means her family was here after the Indians but before the Americans and their rancho was a land grant from some king. Elena's English isn't perfect and she has a little bit of an accent so sometimes I don't understand what's she's saying. And she says I have an accent too and sometimes she doesn't understand me! Imagine that!

The classes are hard. I have a lot more homework than I did back home but I don't really mind. When I don't have classwork to do, I have chores and chapel, and riding lessons. Sometimes they allow us to go shopping in town if one of the housemothers chaperones us. Santa Barbara is a short drive into town and you can see the Pacific Ocean from the road. It's beautiful and enormous. Elena says sometimes she and her brothers go swimming in the ocean. She says they'll take me next time they go. Won't that be fun?

I have to go now, Pappy, lots of reading to do. And an essay for English class. I love you and I miss you so much. I'd love to be able to come home for Christmas. Do you think I can? I know it's expensive but I miss you and the farm. Please?

Love, Regina

On the cusp of change

Josephine rounded the small knoll just between the path to her house and the meadow. She had spent the remainder of the afternoon thinking about Mitchell as she gathered Clarkia and Sheep's Sorrel. Mitch had loved botany and planned to invent new kinds of plants and produce to keep the family's roots strong in agriculture--like father would have wanted. He taught her everything she ever wanted to know about the wild plants around their home and land--every trip to town or blazing summer day he would point out something new to Jo and he's pluck a flower and tuck it behind her ear--and snub her nose with his thumb.

Josephine recognized the stout mare nibbling some of the newer blades of grass near the gate--she belonged to Miss Jacobs, the schoolmistress. Josephine whistled low, and the mare lifted her head--eyes drowsy with the languor of spring. Jo couldn't help but smile--wishing she could be a simple creature like this velvet beauty. Jo knew inside her mother would be having words with Miss Jacobs, and she also knew she wasn't ready for hearing any of it. She set down her flowers and turned to the horse. "So, Mathilde, what shall we do today?" she mused in such a soft, sweet voice, the mare whinnied. "I thought so too, let's take a walk." She untied the mare and lead her around the perimeter of the yard--paying close attention to where the grass seemed most green, so she might please her grazing friend.

The pair had made a lap around the yard when both women appeared at the back porch. Mother had a glass of lemonade in her hand, Miss. Jacobs had hers folded neatly in front of her muslin dress. Each took a glance at each other then at Josephine. They smiled and then Sarah called for her to say hello and bring Miss. Jacob's horse. Josephine approached and chose a nice grey-nobbled pebble by the steps to concentrate her stare.

"Well, I'm glad to see you're making nice with the old girl," Miss. Jacob's voice always made Jo feel at ease.

"And now, Miss Jacob's has come all the way out to see us, you might say something to her," Sarah was firm, but not mean.

"Yes, Miss Jacob's it was very nice of you to come see us, I do enjoy your visits," Jo said this part more to the horse, but Miss Jacob's felt her meaning.

"Ah, it is just the joy of being in such a small town--I get to visit my best and brightest pupils."

At this, Jo looked up and saw the warm smile on her teacher's face. It was a genuine remark, from a woman whom Jo thought had always kept a bit of distance from her students. Josephine smiled back shyly.

"Well, I suppose I should take this old girl off your hands before she's obliged to leave your yard with nothing but dirt!" Miss Jacob's smiled again at both mother and daughter, as she took the reigns from Josephine and daintily mounted Mathilde. "I'll see you in school tomorrow, Jo, and Sarah, as always, it's a pleasure to see you." With that, the school mistress wheeled about and started on the path back to town at a slow trot.

Sarah and Josephine watched as the two became blurry specks in the mottled shade of the tree-lined path, then Sarah laid a hand on Josephine's shoulder.

"I thought you might like something to drink, sweetheart..." Sarah's voice was soft the way it was when she wanted her children to follow her.

"Just a minute, mama..." Jo turned to the gate, and scanned the area where she first saw Mathilde. She ran across the yard and picked up her wilting wildflowers in her apron. As she skipped back awkwardly, she called to Sarah, "Mama, look, I got them when I was by the river and walking up the path in the meadow." She opened her skirts to reveal Mitch's favorite flowers. Sarah stood still for a moment, looking at the bright pink blooms and fresh green stems. Her eyes met Jo's and she wrapped her daughter in a tight and affectionate embrace. Josephine hadn't remembered the last time she had hugged her mother. She felt she might bury her whole existence in her mother's strong arms and breathe each fiber of her blouse and never miss the air. She felt safe and whole and loved.

One Small Thing

Pappy left in the horse drawn carriage. Regina watched until the carriage turned the corner and she was all alone. She turned back from the entrance to the Miss Porter's school and walked back up to her room. This was her home now. These people would be her family, her friends. If she could make it through Gran's funeral without crying, she could do this. She knew she could.

The room was painted white: white walls, white floor, white drapes over white shutters, and white bedspreads. The sink was white porcelain and even the closet doors that faced one another were white. Inside the closet was a wooden dresser, but if the closet was shut, it was a sea of whiteness. Regina looked at the two beds, trying to decide if one was better or worse than the other and finally just sat on one. She realized that this side of the room would get more of the morning sun, but she was sure Miss Peale wouldn't allow them to sleep in very often, if at all. Yes, this bed would do.

While she and Pappy had been lunching, her bags and trunk had been delivered to her room. She opened the first bag and slowly began to put her things away. As she opened the second suitcase, she found a small wrapped package inside that she knew she hadn't packed. She tore through the floral paper and inside there was a grainy portrait of her parents in an ornate gold frame.

'Pappy, you're going to make me break my promise not to cry... but thank you.'

Settling In and Saying Goodbye

The dormitory rooms lined both sides of the long hall on the floor above the classroom buildings. There was a room mother in a slightly larger room at the end of each hallway. Regina was introduced to Miss Peale who smiled warmly and welcomed her new pupil.

"We'll see a lot of one another. If you need anything or you're not feeling well, come see me, Regina. We're so glad to have you with us. But I'm sure you want to see your room now, right?" she said.

"Miss Peale will take good care of you now, Regina," Miss Porter said, taking her leave. "But if you need anything before you leave, Colonel, or if either of you have any more questions, please do come see me. If I'm not in my office, the staff will find me."

Regina peeked into the rooms as they passed along the hallway. The girls were laughing and giggling and talking or reading. The rooms were bright and sunny with painted wooden floors. Regina was delighted when Miss Peale opened the door to one room near the middle of the hallway and she saw a large picture window in the middle of the far wall. It looked out over the courtyard and the grassy lawn area they'd crossed to get to Miss Porter's office.

Regina said nothing but walked to the window and opened the sheer drapes. Miss Peale looked at Pappy and smiled. Looking at the two beds, Regina turned to Miss Peale. "Which one's mine?" she asked.

"You may have your choice, Regina, dear. For the time being, you don't have a roommate. But don't get too accustomed to being by yourself, I'm sure you'll have a roommate soon.

"Each room has its own sink," Miss Peale continued, "But the bathrooms and tubs are down the hall. We passed them on the way in. Please be a good citizen and don't spend too much time at your toilette. There are too many girls for much primping. Besides, it's all girls here. No need for much primping.

"The staff will bring your bags up in a few minutes, so let's go check out the dining hall and beaux parlors while they do their work." Miss Peale didn't wait for an answer but led the way out by another staircase.

The butterflies that had plagued Regina's stomach earlier settled down and she felt as though she might learn to like this place in time. She could breathe here and the cool breezes, while they smelled of sea air, were moist and welcoming. The girls were different from Kentucky, but then she hadn't had many friends back home anyway. She'd been schooled at home and the girls that lived nearby were more interested in the boys and silly secrets.

After their tour, Miss Peale showed them into the dining hall and excused herself while she spoke in hushed tones with one of the kitchen staff, then returned and bade them sit. "Luncheon will be served in a few moments. Lupita makes a wonderful crab salad and there's always plenty of food."

The plump, gray-haired housemother went to the sideboard, opened it and removed three glasses. She set them around the table, and once again, asked them to sit down. The large room was painted white and had several large long tables lined with chairs.

It was the last meal Regina and her grandfather would eat at the same table. Miss Peale must have sensed that would be the case for rarely did the kitchen staff serve meals other than at regularly scheduled times. Miss Peale sipped her iced tea and answered their questions about the classes, the school's brief history and the other girls while Pappy and Regina ate their meal. The crab salad was delicious, although the crabs Regina had eaten before tasted different. The sourdough bread was unusual and wonderful.

'At least I won't starve,' thought Regina.

When they were through eating, Miss Peale excused herself after first making sure Pappy knew the way back to the campus's entrance and Regina could find her way back to her dormitory. Then she gave them their privacy.

It was difficult to say goodbye. Regina knew somewhere in her gut that she would never see this lovely man again. Her parents, her Gran and now, now Pappy too -- she'd lost them all in her few short years. Her dark eyes filled with tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks.

"Don't do that, my Regina," Pappy said, kissing her forehead softly. "You have your whole life ahead and mine is mostly passed. I've loved you more than I knew was possible and I never want you to forget that. When you think of me, remember an old man who marked your birth with fireworks and celebrating. You've always been my girl. And you always will be."

Pappy paused, and wiped the back of one calloused hand across his own eyes. " This place will give you a good education and, with the skills you learn here and the small inheritance from your family, you can do almost anything with your life. You be strong, Regina, and make me proud. I love you, Regina. That will never change."

Regina's voice failed her. Her throat was thick and closed with emotion but she threw her arms around her grandfather's neck and hugged him with all her strength.