Fourteen

Lithograph from Jennie's Book,
Jesus, Lover of My Soul

​​Fourteen

Orval pulled over on Ninth Street to contemplate.

Friday will be a monumental day. To him—and he suspected to Jennie—graduation would be even more important than her wedding day. He realized this was not a conventional conclusion, for was not getting married a woman’s supreme object?

Jennie's Mother's
Photo Album Cover

Yesterday, Orval took a moment to look through Jennie’s photograph album. The gold velvet one with the cover in the form of a picture frame. It had been Jennie’s mother’s album first, and after she died, Orval kept it for Jennie until her sixteenth birthday. He remembered that day very well.

“Jennie, how about I take you to get something from the soda fountain at the drugstore? It is your birthday, after all.” He was trying, in his way, to show her that he both remembered and cared. “We can go with Jay and John, or we can leave them at home. Your choice.”

A long sigh greeted him.

“I have a chemistry problem I am trying to solve for tomorrow’s class. And I am in no mood.”

Orval wondered what he should do. He regretted the distance between his daughter and himself. Then, he remembered. He excused himself, went to his bedroom, and after rummaging a few minutes, he returned.

“Jennie, this was your mother’s album. There are probably more photographs of me and my side of the

Orval Stark

family than of her own, but the Starks found it more important to mark special occasions with portraits.”

Jennie glanced up from her books and noticed her father’s moist eyes. She grasped an edge of the album with her left hand and then another with her right, slowly bringing the volume to her chest before placing it on her desk. Gingerly touching the front gold velvet cover embossed with flowers, she carefully opened it.

As Jennie journeyed through the pages, teardrops trickled until she wiped her face with her sleeve. Orval took out his handkerchief, grimy from the day’s work hauling trash. He spied a clean corner and offered it to her.

Jennie paused, then a smirk grew from beneath her nose. Then, she could not help but chuckle. “Oh, Father, thank you,” she dotted her cheeks with it before returning it, “this means something to me in a way you might not expect.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can see you have been hard at work.” Jennie turned in her chair and glanced upward. Then, she arose, and hesitantly placed one arm, then the other around her father’s midsection.

“Father.” Jennie laid her head on his chest as he enveloped her with his arms.

From
Jesus, Lover
of My Soul 

The remembrance of the moment brought tears to Orval’s eyes once again as he sat in the carriage. This time, his handkerchief was clean, freshly washed by Jennie and ironed by Jay.

Oh, Annie. I know you will be beaming down on our daughter tomorrow.

Hester Ann Gardner Stark was often in Orval’s thoughts, certainly more than anyone could guess. How I miss you. More tears came. I have tried. But I have made a mess of things since you left us.

Then, a thought occurred to him.

Jennie might not have had the motivation to do more with her life than marry young and spend her life in the service of her family. Bitterness and anger toward her father could make her think, I can do better. I will not waste my life.

He sniffled and looked up through the elm tree’s branches above him. There, he spied a bluebird. Annie. You are always near. Oh, how you loved bluebirds! Thank you for sending me a sign that you continue to watch over us.

Orval straightened up, took hold of the reins, and yelled “Git!”

After his arrival at The Palm Café, Orval squinted at the ladies as he helped them into the open carriage. His blue-gray eyes were clear, sparkling like crystals upon snow which had been melted slightly, but refrozen. There was a lightness about him which flowed over his passengers, enveloping them in an unexpected but welcome warmth.

“Father, you seem… radiant.”

“And it is delightful seeing you so, brother.”

Orval’s grin was so broad you could see nearly all his teeth, and so unexpectedly contagious you did not notice the gaps and broken bits. But he remained silent as he gathered up the reins.

Aunt Ella’s attention returned to her niece.

“Miss Jennie, are there other buildings you wish to show me?”

Jennie thought a moment and changed her prior plans to methodically continue their tour.

University Campus Scene, c. 1910

“The scent from the roses and gardenias wafting on the breeze urge me to suggest we simply ride along where we will, taking in the lovely June day. The third day, is it? Astounding how gentle the air is, with none of the heat we sometimes get this time of year.”

As they began their leisurely journey, Jennie added, her voice elevated to carry above the sound of hooves upon bricks. “Father I am thrilled you engaged this carriage, for I was concerned earlier we would be uncomfortable with the sun. But if we remain in the shade of these elms, if we keep driving along just enjoying the mood, I believe I will be in heaven itself.”

“Are you not there already, Jennie?” Aunt Ella reached over and smoothed an errant lock of hair off her niece’s forehead. “You seem to glow. You and your father, both.”

“Auntie, what could be better than riding along with abandon, with you and Father, knowing I am about to be recognized for all I have worked for.”

There was a gentleness in Jennie’s lips which curled upward at the corners. Ella silently observed how those same lips could be pursed in anxiety or set in determination. But now, well, her niece seemed to be almost blissful.

“Father…” Jennie reached backward to touch her parent. “Might we pull over a moment? Over there under that magnificent oak? That is one of my favorite trees I see each day on my walks here to and from classes.”

Orval tightened the reins and guided the horses over to the edge of the path which paralleled the brick passageway. Once the carriage halted, he lay the reins in a way the horses knew to remain where they were.

“Father…” Orval responded by twisting around in his seat. Jennie attempted to do the same from behind him, but the positioning was awkward.

Orval motioned to a nearby bench, large enough for the two of them, with a nearby bench for Aunt Ella. Jennie wondered at her father being mute yet enjoyed the playfulness he seemed to possess in the moment.

Ella could sense this was a time Jennie wished to share alone with her father, so she excused herself to walk along the path.

Jennie seated herself, and before Orval did likewise, he held out a paper sack. Inside were some strawberries, so fresh you could inhale their scent from several feet away. He also produced his handkerchief, anticipating his daughter’s protests that the juices might ruin her dress.

The tears which were threatening from the corners of her eyes began a more earnest journey but tamed into a mist once Jennie brought them under control. She mustered the energy required to get through what she wished to convey.

“Father, it warms my heart to see you so…uplifted, or whatever it is bubbling up from your soul. It brings hope you are finding what you have longed for.” Jennie popped a strawberry into her mouth. The juices emanating from it landed neatly on the protective linen. But it was a warning she should delay eating more until later when she could lean over a table.

“Father, I have been ruminating during these past few months. About all of the sacrifices you have made; of which I have not made adequate mention.”

Orval looked away momentarily.

“You have done what no other Father has ever considered. You have given me opportunities, prioritizing them over your own desires, over what might be best for my brothers. That you have done so is remarkable in itself, but to do so in favor of a girl over her brothers is beyond my comprehension.”

Jennie’s tears flowed. There was no stopping them. Orval searched for a handkerchief, but the napkin already was in use to dab away at the dampness. Just as well, for he needed the cloth for himself.

“Watch out!” Just then, a baseball hit the upper board of the bench with a loud smack.

“My goodness!” Jennie declared as a gentleman trotted over. Jennie recognized him as the very boy from Chillicothe she thought about from time to time. And just might have a photograph or two of, pinned to

Chillicothe High School
Track Team
1908

her curtain where it was not noticeable.

“Miss Stark, please accept my apologies. It seems your bench jumped up to meet my errant missile.” The young man grinned as he retrieved the white orb from the nearby grassy patch to which it had bounded. Perhaps sensing he was interrupting, he excused himself and jogged back to another male in the distance. But he turned around and waved.

Orval puffed up his chest in the recognition that Jennie had made an impression upon a lad, a handsome one at that. What Orval did not know was how many opportunities the two had to become better acquainted, yet nothing romantic ever transpired however much Jennie might have wished.

The two on the bench seemed relieved to have a break from the welling emotions.

Orval drew closer to his offspring, placing an arm about her shoulders and drawing her in. Jennie lay her head in the crook between his shoulder and chest, and the two remained a minute or two.

Across the way, Ella sighed. Finally, a hint of a resolution for which she had long prayed. Looking skyward, she glimpsed a fluffy cloud that, if you were so inclined, you could believe it was in the form of a cross. “Thank you, Lord,” she mouthed.

Orval gave his daughter a squeeze, and the two arose, Orval waving at his sister and motioning toward the carriage. As Ella approached, Jennie held out her right hand to her aunt and she presented her left to her father. As she clasped each, she expressed her gratitude.

“That you both are here with me and for me means the world. That you both have always done so fills my heart and soul beyond measure.

Through her renewed tears, she smiled, that gentle smile almost none had ever witnessed, but they all suspected, would not be the omega, but the alpha. Only the beginning.