Giant of Mesabi

"Not really," she smiled. "I was just wondering how long it would be before I'll be able to show off pictures of my grandchildren. Or even if I'll be around to see them born."

"Oh, Mother, don't talk that way," Alanna murmured with a catch in her voice.

"I wasn't referring to an early demise," Elinore laughed, a bright melodious sound. "My dear, since you turned sixteen, there's been a string of male admirers knocking at our door and you haven't taken one of them seriously. Are you going to become one of these modern career women? Not that I don't think a woman should have a career, but selfishly I keep hoping that you might be able to include a husband and family in your life, too."

"I'm twenty-one. That practically makes me an old maid, doesn't it?" Alanna teased, relief flowing through her that her mother had maintained her optimistic grasp on the future.

"Seriously, Alanna," her mother smiled, "what about Kurt Matthews? Is he the one? Are you in love with him?"

A momentary stillness swept over her. She looked down at the pictures in her hand. "I think so," she nodded.

"Think so?" Disappointment and affection ran through the responding voice. "My dear, I doubt if it's love if you only think so. When you're in love with a man, he either makes you so impossibly angry that you can't think straight or he transports you to some heavenly plateau."

"Is that right?" There was an impish light in her eyes as she glanced at her mother. "Is that the way dad makes you feel?"

"After thirty years, he still has the power to exasperate me beyond endurance," Elinore Powell admitted laughingly. "But the heavenly plateau has become much more solid and lasting. I think it's something that exists only in the sweet romance of courtship. Which is just as well, because it isn't wise to go through life with your head in the clouds all the time."

Alanna smiled and nodded. Secretly she thought her mother's idea about love was a bit old-fashioned and sentimental. Love wasn't like that today, probably it never had been except in romantic dreams. Love wasn't something that happened. It was something that grew out of genuine affection and admiration into something more solid. But she didn't voice her opinion. There was no reason to debate the point.

Chapter Three

IT SEEMED TO ALANNA that her father was a bit preoccupied during dinner that evening. His eyes kept straying to his wife whenever he felt she was looking at him, a

nd there was a faintly troubled light in his eyes and a certain tension about his finely chiseled mouth. It seemed to accent the aging lines in his handsome, sensitive face. His hair was iron-gray, receding at the temples, yet still giving the impression, of being thickly full.

They were such a perfect couple, Alanna thought, not for the first time. They were so devoted to each other, each more concerned about the other's wants and needs than their own. Perhaps that was what was bothering her father now. She knew her mother's health was poor, but maybe he had detected something in her manner tonight that gave him cause to worry. He would be more apt to seer since Alanna had been away and wouldn't be able to discern any small change. She studied her mother circumspectly, trying to see her through her father's eyes, but she noticed nothing.

"Oh, Dorian," Ruth looked up from her plate, "I called the plumber. He'll be over tomorrow morning to see what's the matter with the pipes in the laundry room. I meant to tell you earlier and forgot."

Her father sighed heavily. "I'm beginning to think we should have all new plumbing installed. First it was the upstairs bathroom; then it was the kitchen. Now the laundry room." He shook his head. "There's only the downstairs bathroom left."

"The house is old," her mother pointed out. "You can't expect it to last forever."

"I'm beginning to think it's become a white elephant." He made a studious job out of slicing a mouth-size portion of roast beef on his plate. "I was golfing today with Bob Jackson—he's the one with the real estate firm," he added in explanation. "He was telling me that there's quite a demand for housing these days, especially homes located in our area. He seems to think it would fetch a handsome price if we put it on the market."

"You aren't thinking of selling, are you, Dorian?" Her mother laid her silverware on the table and stared at him in disbelief.

"We aren't getting any younger, Elinore," he said, not meeting her gaze. "With Alanna away at college most of the year, this house is really too big for our needs. The upkeep and expense of running it is getting out of hand—the plumbing, and we're going to need a new roof before winter. We could sell it and buy us a nice condominium with money left over to put in the bank. We wouldn't have to worry any more about heating empty rooms or shoveling snow, raking leaves, or mowing lawns. Let's be honest. This house is beginning to be a burden."

"Dorian Maxwell Powell, I don't want to hear another word!" her mother exclaimed.

"Would you sell it?" Alanna breathed, her throat constricting at the idea of strangers living in her home.

"He is not going to sell it!" Elinore stated emphatically.

"I never said I was," he placated. "I was only pointing out that it would be the practical thing to do."

"I don't care if it's practical or not," her mother retorted. She picked up her knife and fork again. "I don't see how you could even suggest such a thing. You were born in this house. It was built to your father's specifications down to the last detail. It would be like selling your heritage. How could you even consider such a thing?"

"Now, now Elinore, don't get so upset," he soothed with an apologetic smile. "I just thought that this big old house might be getting too much for you and Ruth to take care of and I didn't want…Well," he faltered, choosing his words with care, "if you wanted something smaller, I thought you might not say so because of the very reasons you mentioned."

"Oh, darling." Elinore bit her lip, touched by his gesture. "This is our home. It always has been and it always will be if I have any say about it."

"Of course you do," he smiled. "I guess it was foolish of me to bring it up."

"It certainly was," Elinore sniffed.

And Alanna smiled, marveling again at the selfless consideration her parents showed for each other. She glanced at her watch.