Reynard stood to his feet, his eyes on Kendra’s face. George waited a moment, then said, “This young man has just asked for your hand in marriage.” Both men heard the sharp intake of Kendra’s breath.
Silence followed while Kendra cast a glance toward Reynard. He looked at her pleadingly as he shifted nervously from one foot to the other.
“How do you feel about it?” asked George. “Do you wish to marry him?”
It seemed too blunt. So—so sudden. Kendra lowered her gaze, her hands still twisting in the apron.
“Well—?”
“Yes,” she said, and her voice was strong. “Yes—I wish to marry him.”
Reynard stepped quickly forward and reached for Kendra’s shoulders.
“I guess it’s settled then,” said George. But no one seemed to be listening.
The two stood close to each other, their eyes exchanging promises of love. George knew he had been forgotten. He cleared his throat loudly and Reynard stirred, his cheeks coloring slightly.
“Thank you, sir,” Reynard said, and his voice was filled with excitement. Confidence.
George watched them go. One hand reached down to stroke Oscar, who had moved to press up against his knee, the other reached toward his beard.
Though he fought against the tears, they could not be held in check. His little girl had left childhood behind and entered womanhood. He had known it would come. Should have been prepared, but it all seemed to have happened so quickly. Wasn’t it only yesterday that he had stood in the garden of the Home, bracing himself for the meeting with a nearly four-year-old. Now—now—
He wiped carelessly at the tears with his flannel sleeve. If only—if only Mary could see her now. A beautiful young woman—vibrant—in love.