And Emily was still reading, and Rose was still leaning. And he looked at Margaret over the top of Emily's book with a look that she held this time instead of looking away from because she was done looking away from it, he said quietly under Emily's reading. Is this all right? She said, "Yes." He nodded.
Something in his shoulders settled that she hadn't noticed was up until it came down. The evening ended the way real evenings ended gradually with the natural slowing of things. Rose eventually carried to bed by her father over protest. Emily negotiating for 15 more minutes of reading that became 10 then five. Then she too disappeared.
Nathan came back and sat down at the table and they were alone in the kitchen for the first time. And the quiet was not uncomfortable which told her something she hadn't needed to say out loud. He said, "I want to tell you something." She waited. He looked at the table for a moment at the grain of the wood.
And then he looked at her. When Eleanor died, he stopped, started again. When she died, the hardest day of every week was Sunday. Not because anything particular happened on Sundays, just because Sunday was the day we used to. He pressed his hand flat on the table.
She baked on Sundays, not pies, usually bread, mostly, sometimes cake, but the kitchen would smell like something was happening, and the girls would be in and out, and it was the day that felt most, he stopped. Most like a family. Margaret was very still. After she passed, Sundays went hollow, he said. I didn't know how to make them anything else.
I tried working through them. Tried going to church and filling the time that way. Nothing. He shook his head. Couldn't make them mean something again.
He looked at her. Then one morning, I walked past your table at the market. I wasn't going to stop. I wasn't looking for anything in particular. But you had this.
You were standing there alone before the crowd came and you were straightening that cloth on the table. And you looked like someone who had decided to show up regardless. And I He stopped again. I don't know how to explain it exactly. I just thought that's a person who still believes Sunday is worth something.