Jean Harnett

Chapter 30: Thoughts

Jean's thoughts were still on Robert Cramer the next morning, and Jean had little control over her actions. She set her body on auto pilot and let routine actions guide her. It was amazing how little she had to concentrate until--

"Jean! You seem deep in thought today."

Jean blinked. "Huh?" She realized she was following her family out of church and that her Aunt Margo had hailed her. Jean had no idea about the subject of the sermon she'd just heard or what songs she'd just sung, but those things were unimportant now. She had a more pressing problem with trying to focus on Margo and what her aunt was saying to her.

"Some problem, Jean? You seemed awfully reflective in church."

Bless Aunt Margo! She'd given Jean her explanation. "Yes, I did have something that was bothering me. And church is the perfect place to take our problems. Don't you agree?"

"Well, I-- Of course, it is," Margo blustered. "It's just that you should be paying more attention to the minister."

"I was. I was listening to the minister inside me, the small, still voice that guides me. The minister at the pulpit is merely a tool to that small, still voice. Don't you agree?"

"Well-- Of course, I do. It's just that--"

"Oh, here you are, Jean!" Brenna greeted as she slipped her hand around Jean's and squeezed. "We thought you'd gotten lost."

"Just visiting with Aunt Margo a moment."

They both glanced at Margo who still seemed to be sputtering.

"Excuse us, Aunt Margo. I have to steal Jean away now. See you later at the tea that Craig's aunt is hosting for us this afternoon."

"Bye, Aunt Margo," Jean said brightly. "It was nice chatting with you."

"Ah, goodbye, girls," Margo said to their retreating figures. "See you this afternoon." She straightened her shoulders, regrouped her thoughts, and searched the crowd for her next victim, ah, conversation sharer.

"Boy, I thought I was rescuing you," Brenna said as the sisters hurried toward their parents' car. "Maybe it was really Aunt Margo who needed my help."

"She wrangled me, Brenna. I guess I shouldn't have unsheathed my claws like that." Jean grinned. "But, oh, it felt good!"

The girls giggled together.

"I would've disappointed Mother, though," Jean continued. "She has tried to teach us tolerance and forbearance. I'm afraid I'm not following her example, though. I'm not cut out to be a martyr."

"Even Mother brings Aunt Margo to task occasionally about her actions."

"That's right. Remember when aunt Margo was berating Sally Carstairs for having to get married? Mother bristled right up and defended her. Sally was never too bright and didn't understand that she was supposed to say 'no' to any guy who tempted her into being naughty. Never mind that she had fun with the guy. Sally admitted that herself. But Mother decided that she needed defending, and defending she got, whether she wanted or needed it."

"The defender of lost causes, that's our mother. There's the folks, Jean. Let's change the subject" she whispered to her sister. "Did you see that hat that Myra Horton was wearing?" she asked her mother.

"Myra?" Louise asked. "Heavens, yes! Wasn't it a sight?" She laughed and fell to gossiping with her daughters.

Frank Harnett shook his head, then grinned. He wished he had a dozen more, just like these three, the women in his life. He was a wealthy man, indeed.

"Getting ready to leave, Jean?" Frank asked later at home. "Not staying for supper?"

"Supper?! Not after that big dinner at the Morgan House and the treats at the afternoon tea. I couldn't eat another bite! If I do, it'll just be some cinnamon toast and milk at bedtime."