her days, though she outlived everyone in her family. I know from my Civics Committee report for the bicentennial. Really, Ben, I don’t know why you think this history of yours is going to be any kind of salvation. A few copies, that’s all you’re going to sell. I mean, who outside of Springvale gives a good fig about this town’s history?”
Something Nellie’d wondered herself, but her father seemed genuinely surprised.
“An awful lot of people.” He spoke with that conviction that always sent something soaring inside her, eagles and rockets’ red glare, her
Get Tough!
book, even though the major was British. “Because our story’s universal. It’s every town’s story. Good plain people, struggle and hard work, exactly what’s made this country great.”
“Do you know how hard it is to get a book published? Just last month in the
Library Journal
, it said how only one out of ten thousand manuscripts ever even get read.”
“Well then, count me among the lucky few.” He grinned. “Luminosity Press, they’ve got a few chapters, and they’re very interested. And as soon as they get my … my … check, I’ll know more.” In spite of his stammer, her father’s voice held strong. It was his head that seemed to have the slightest tremor, as if with his words air or conviction were leaking out of it.
“That’s what you need money for?” Aunt Betsy asked, but her brother didn’t seem to comprehend her question. “Ben. Oh, Ben.” She gave a long sigh. “Don’t tell me you’re
paying
to have it published. Not when you’ve got a family to support. What you need right now is a job. A steady income with benefits. Look around you,” she said, the sweep of her arm like a spotlight’s glare over the tired dusty merchandise. “This beat-up, old place—it’s run its course. Like Phil says, the small businessman, he’s either a martyr or a fool. Corporate America, that’s the reality.”
Like a gently falling veil, a look of serenity was settling over her father. Transcendence,
his
reality, so she could talk all she wanted. Why argue or hurt her feelings when he knew things she didn’t. He had a plan, a secret, a rare trove, and if his sister had little faith or understanding, well, that was all right, because as long as a man stays focused and true to his life’s work, no harm can come to him. And as always, his confidence was sanctuary enough for Nellie. Even Bucky seemed very far away.
Chapter 6
I T WAS S UNDAY MORNING, AND HER MOTHER WAS ADDRESSING invitations to the jewelry party she was having for Ellen, her girlfriend. It really bothered Nellie whenever her mother said that—“my
girlfriend.
” By the time a mother got to be a mother she only needed friends.
Girlfriends
sounded silly and flighty and undignified. If her mother had girlfriends, then
she
was a girlfriend, which of course she wasn’t, being a grown woman as well as Nellie’s mother, whose life was supposed to be about her kids, not girlfriends and their secrets. But of course she could never say that because then she’d be accused of sounding like Aunt Betsy again. Anyway, Ellen, Mrs. Heisler, had just bought a Royal Palais Gems franchise, and Nellie’s mother had agreed to host her friend’s first party.
“Here, go put this in Dolly’s mailbox. If you can get it in,” her mother said, licking an envelope. “One less stamp,” she muttered. Nellie’d heard her fretting at breakfast about all the money this was costing. Had she known she’d be paying for all the food and invitations herself, she never would have agreed to host the party. But then when it came her turn, her father reminded her mother, someone else would be doing the same for her. Her mother was also interested in buying a franchise. With all her contacts at the beauty shop, it was a no-brainer, she’d said last night as she and Benjamin pored over company brochures and the bonus points catalog. In addition to a percentage of each sale,
Something Nellie’d wondered herself, but her father seemed genuinely surprised.
“An awful lot of people.” He spoke with that conviction that always sent something soaring inside her, eagles and rockets’ red glare, her
Get Tough!
book, even though the major was British. “Because our story’s universal. It’s every town’s story. Good plain people, struggle and hard work, exactly what’s made this country great.”
“Do you know how hard it is to get a book published? Just last month in the
Library Journal
, it said how only one out of ten thousand manuscripts ever even get read.”
“Well then, count me among the lucky few.” He grinned. “Luminosity Press, they’ve got a few chapters, and they’re very interested. And as soon as they get my … my … check, I’ll know more.” In spite of his stammer, her father’s voice held strong. It was his head that seemed to have the slightest tremor, as if with his words air or conviction were leaking out of it.
“That’s what you need money for?” Aunt Betsy asked, but her brother didn’t seem to comprehend her question. “Ben. Oh, Ben.” She gave a long sigh. “Don’t tell me you’re
paying
to have it published. Not when you’ve got a family to support. What you need right now is a job. A steady income with benefits. Look around you,” she said, the sweep of her arm like a spotlight’s glare over the tired dusty merchandise. “This beat-up, old place—it’s run its course. Like Phil says, the small businessman, he’s either a martyr or a fool. Corporate America, that’s the reality.”
Like a gently falling veil, a look of serenity was settling over her father. Transcendence,
his
reality, so she could talk all she wanted. Why argue or hurt her feelings when he knew things she didn’t. He had a plan, a secret, a rare trove, and if his sister had little faith or understanding, well, that was all right, because as long as a man stays focused and true to his life’s work, no harm can come to him. And as always, his confidence was sanctuary enough for Nellie. Even Bucky seemed very far away.
Chapter 6
I T WAS S UNDAY MORNING, AND HER MOTHER WAS ADDRESSING invitations to the jewelry party she was having for Ellen, her girlfriend. It really bothered Nellie whenever her mother said that—“my
girlfriend.
” By the time a mother got to be a mother she only needed friends.
Girlfriends
sounded silly and flighty and undignified. If her mother had girlfriends, then
she
was a girlfriend, which of course she wasn’t, being a grown woman as well as Nellie’s mother, whose life was supposed to be about her kids, not girlfriends and their secrets. But of course she could never say that because then she’d be accused of sounding like Aunt Betsy again. Anyway, Ellen, Mrs. Heisler, had just bought a Royal Palais Gems franchise, and Nellie’s mother had agreed to host her friend’s first party.
“Here, go put this in Dolly’s mailbox. If you can get it in,” her mother said, licking an envelope. “One less stamp,” she muttered. Nellie’d heard her fretting at breakfast about all the money this was costing. Had she known she’d be paying for all the food and invitations herself, she never would have agreed to host the party. But then when it came her turn, her father reminded her mother, someone else would be doing the same for her. Her mother was also interested in buying a franchise. With all her contacts at the beauty shop, it was a no-brainer, she’d said last night as she and Benjamin pored over company brochures and the bonus points catalog. In addition to a percentage of each sale,
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