Death In The Family, A - James Agee [76]
“Tell her, Poll!”
“Also, Mama. Also it’s just—I hope you’ll understand and not mind, Mama dear—it’s just it would be so very hard for us to talk, quietly, and with the children and all, why I just sort of think ...”
“Why certainly, Mary,” her mother interrupted, in her somewhat ringing voice. “I absolutely agree with you. I think it’s so nice that Hannah can stay!” she added, almost as if Mary and Hannah were little girls.
“I hope you know, Mama, how very much!—I hope you don’t mind. I just appreciate it so much, I ...”
Her mother patted her hand rapidly. “It’s perfectly all right, Mary. It’s very sensible.” She smiled.
Mary put an arm around her and hugged her; she turned her aging face and smiled very brightly and Mary could see the tears in her eyes. She was speechless and her head was shaking in her effort to convey her love and the entirety of her feeling. “Anything I can do, dear child,” she said after a few moments. “Anything!”
“Bless you, Mama!”
“Beg pardon?”
“I said bless you, dear!”
Catherine patted her hand on the back and smiled even more tightly.
I love you so much! Mary exclaimed within herself.
“Praps the children,” Catherine said. “I could take care, if—it would be more, convenient ...”
“Oh, I don’t think we should wake them up!” Mary said.
“She doesn’t mean ...” Andrew began.
“Tomorrow,” her mother said. “Just, perhaps, during the—interim ...”
“That’s wonderful, Mama, that may turn out to be just the thing and if it is I most certainly will. Most gratefully. It’s just, I’m in such a spin it’s just too soon to quite know yet, make any plans. Anything. Tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow then.”
“Thank you, Mama.”
“Not at all.”
“Thank you all the same.”
Her mother smiled and shook her head.
Joel and his sister stood up.
“Mary, before we go,” Andrew said.
“?”
“It’s much to late, Mary, you’re much too tired.”
“Not if it’s important, Andrew.”
“Let’s let it go till morning.”
“What is it, Andrew?”
“Just—various things we’ll have to discuss pretty soon.” He took a deep breath and said in a loud voice. “Getting a plot, making arrangements about the funeral; seeing about a headstone. Let’s wait till morning.”
Earth, stone, a coffin. The ugly craft of undertakers became real and tangible to her, but as if she touched them with frozen hands. She looked at him with glazed eyes.
“That’ll be plenty of time, Mary,” she heard her aunt say.
“Of course it will,” Andrew said. “It was foolish of me to even speak of it tonight.”
“Well if there’s time,” she said vaguely. “Yes if there’s time, Andrew,” she said more distinctly. “Yes, then I’d rather, if you don’t mind. Tomorrow in the morning.” She glanced at the clock. “Goodness this morning,” she exclaimed.
“Of course not,” Andrew said. He turned to his aunt and said in a low voice, as one speaks before an invalid, “Let her sleep if she can. You phone me.”
Hannah nodded.
“Must’ve ...” Joel said, and went into the hall.
“What’s ...” Hannah began.
“Hat I guess. Mine too.” Andrew left the room; in the hall he met his father, carrying his own hat, his wife’s, and Andrew’s.
“Left them in the kitchen,” his father said.
“Thank you, Papa,” Andrew took his hat.
Catherine was standing uneasily in the middle of the room, holding her trumpet and her purse and looking towards the hall door. “Thank you, Joel,” she said. She settled and pinned her hat by touch, a little crooked, and looked at Hannah inquiringly.
It’s all right, Catherine,” her husband said.
Andrew