The Proud Shall Stumble

by Gerald N. Lund

  “Dramatic results is the operative phrase here,” Mitch said, wrinkling his nose at the pungent smell. “But suit yourself. Me? I think I would take a little of that theoretical stratosphere of yours over hauling out a load of this very tangible, very nontheoretical, equine manure that keeps building up in the stalls.”

  Frank laughed and lifted the wheelbarrow with a grunt, moving toward the door.

  When he came back in, Mitch was waiting for him. The tools were all hung on their rack. “What’s next?” Frank asked.

  “This from the boy who didn’t want to be a rancher?” Mitch retorted.

  “Hey, I never said I hated ranching. I just had things I wanted to do that couldn’t be done in Monticello.” Frank looked around. “But I’d forgotten how much I’ve missed it, Dad. How good it feels to be back. Even with the smell of horse manure.”

  Mitch clapped one hand on his son’s shoulder. “And I can’t tell you how good it is to have you here. And that son of yours too, especially. He’s a strapper.”

  Frank laughed. “Probably best not to say that around Celeste. Her father called him chunky the other day, and I thought her mother was going to pop him one. ‘Pleasingly plump’ is how Celeste describes him.”

  Hooting at that, Mitch had a thought. “So this is her parents’ first grandson, right?”

  “Yes. Celeste is an only child. So first grandson and first grandchild and first heir. Her parents are ecstatic. Reginald Sr. is bursting his buttons. He shows him off to everyone.”

  Mitch motioned to the bench by the tack shop. “Let’s sit for a while.”

  As they did so, Mitch half turned to face his son. “How’s the school­ing coming?”

  “Excellent. One more year after this one, then it’s on to grad school.”

  “There at MIT?”

  “Well, that’s what I’ve always planned on. And they want me. They’ve made that clear.”

  “But?”

  Frank turned and faced his father. His eyes were alight with excitement. “But I’ve been looking into another option. Have you ever heard the name Albert Einstein?”

  “Of course. The famous German physicist.”

  “Yes. He won the Nobel Prize for physics in 1921.”

  “Yeah, I remember. And he’s been traveling in the U.S. this last year, right?”

  “Exactly right. He gave lectures at Columbia and Princeton, and some of my colleagues and I went down and listened to him.”

  “Everyone says he is brilliant.”

  “A vast understatement. He’s a phenomenon. Incredible.”

  “And?” Mitch prodded after a moment as it became obvious that Frank had gotten lost in his thoughts.

  “Well, the Rockefeller Foundation has endowed a lot of physics departments in leading universities.” Frank took a quick breath. “And they’re funding individual fellowships for promising students to travel abroad for a year, all expenses paid, and study physics under some of the world’s leading physicists.”

  Mitch was staring at him. “And are you considered a promising student?”

  Frank blushed slightly. “Well, let’s just say I’ve made application for one of those fellowships. I’ve applied to study at the Kaiser Wilhelm Institute for Physics in Berlin.”

  Mitch nearly leaped up. “Really? So you’ll get to use your German?”

  There was a slow smile. “Yes, I will. And though I’ve let it slip these last few years, I’m boning up on it again. Care to guess who the director of that institute is?”

  Mitch was puzzled, but then his eyes grew wide. “Einstein?”

  “None other. He travels abroad a lot, so he may not actually be there when I am, but as the director of the institute, his influence on what is taught there is enormous.”

  Removing his hat, Mitch wiped at his forehead with the sleeve of his woolen shirt. “Whoo-ee!” he exclaimed. “My boy sitting at the feet of Albert Einstein! Have you told your mother about this yet?”

  Trying hard not to grin but failing, Frank said, “I’m not accepted yet, so no. But I’m keeping my fingers crossed.”

  “Doesn’t matter. If she finds out you told me and didn’t tell her immediately, we’ll both be in more hot water than I want to think about.” Mitch got to his feet and replaced his hat. “Let’s go tell the family.”

  “Right now?”

  “Of course.”

  As they walked toward the house, Mitch glanced at his son. “I can’t tell you how much it means to us that you and Celeste would come all the way out here. We know how difficult that is.”

  “It’s overdue, Dad. Sorry that it took so long.”

  Mitch waved that aside. “You brought the baby. That covers a multitude of sins, as the old saying goes.” He paused for a moment and then went on. “So, can I ask you a question, Frank?”

  “Of course.”

  “Your mother and I are so pleased that Celeste would come, especially that far by herself.”

  “Oh, she’s pretty independent.”

  “Well, we’re grateful. And Mama and I want to make her visit here as pleasant as possible. So what can we do to make sure that happens?”

  Touched by the question, Frank considered it and then laughed. “Don’t try to get her up on a horse. Or out with the cows. She detests animals. Not sure why, but even cats and dogs.”

  “So no bronc busting?” Mitch asked, straight-faced.

  Frank hooted. “Or bull riding. Or calf roping.”

  “Got it. Anything else?”

  “Uh . . .” Frank slowed his pace. “There is one little thing,” he said lightly. “It’s not a big deal, but. . . .”

  “What?”

  “Tina and the twins have taken to calling the baby Reggie. And Mom did it last night too. Can you ask them not to when Celeste is here? It’s fine with me. Reginald is a pretty big name for such a little tyke. But it’s a really big thing with Celeste and her family. Reginald is named for Celeste’s father, and no one ever calls him Reggie or any other nickname. I mean no one. Celeste told me that he once canceled a major business deal because the guy insisted on calling him Reggie. He was a Texan, one of those guys that thinks he’s every­one’s buddy. But Reginald sent him packing.”

  “All right,” Mitch said, trying to not look too surprised. “I’ll tell the rest of the family that before Celeste arrives. Anything else?”

  “No. But thanks for putting us in the bedroom that looks to the east. I’ve told her about the view from up here, but it’s going to really wow her.”

  “Well, let’s just hope it isn’t snowing next week when she comes.”

  Just as they reached the step, Frank stopped again. “Uh . . . Dad?”

  “Yes?”

  “Speaking of when she comes, would you mind if I went up to Thompson Springs to get Celeste by myself?”

  “I. . . . No. Of course not. Whatever you think.”

  “I know you and Mom are really excited to see her again. But it’s about a five- or six-hour round trip, right?”

  “Yeah. Longer if the weather turns bad on us.”

  “So she’ll be very tired, I’m sure. That train trip is a killer. So not having to worry about Reginald until we get back to the ranch would be good.” He was trying very hard not to look embarrassed by his request.

  “Good idea,” Mitch said. “I think that’s wise. I’ll tell your Mom.”

  “Thank you, Dad. Thanks for understanding.”

  December 16, 1923, 5:14 p.m.

  Benji cracked one eye open without lifting his head too far off his chest. “And bless the meat loaf that Mom baked for us, and the rolls that Aunt June made, and the brown gravy that . . . um . . . somebody made, and the—”

  Abby elbowed him sharply in the ribs. He jumped and bowed his head again. “We thank Thee for all of this really good food. Help it to bl
ess our bodies and make us strong. In the name of Jesus, amen.”

  There was a chorus of soft amens.

  When Benji looked up, his father was watching him, clearly amused. “Particularly hungry this afternoon, are we?” he asked.

  “Sure am,” Benji complained. “Mama wouldn’t let us eat anything after we got home from church.” Now he reached for the bowl heaped high with mashed potatoes and pulled it closer to him.

  “Benj?”

  He stopped, looking at his mother. What now?

  “Guests first.”

  He nearly choked. “Mama, Frank ain’t no guest. He’s family.”

  “Yeah, Mom,” Frank said. “I’m family.”

  “Don’t say ain’t,” Tina scolded.

  Edie sighed. “Benjamin, pass the potatoes to your brother, then you can be next.”

  “He’ll faint before then,” Abby said, giving her brother a dirty look.

  “Will not!” Benji shot back hotly.

  “Children, children,” Edie chided. “Behave yourselves.”

  Frank was grinning as he heaped a mound of potatoes onto his plate and passed the bowl to Benji. Next he ladled enough gravy onto the mound to cover half his plate and took two thick slices of meat loaf. “Man, I can’t remember the last time I had meat loaf.” He cut off a large chunk with his fork, swirled it around in the potatoes and gravy until it was no longer recognizable, and shoved it in his mouth. In pure ecstasy, he closed his eyes and made a low sound of joy.

  Edie watched him, her eyes soft. “It is good to have you home again, Frank, but I sure hope you don’t eat like that when you’re dining with Celeste’s family.”

  He said something unintelligible and took another bite as Edie looked on with a deep sense of satisfaction. Her boy was back.

  December 18, 1923, 2:22 p.m.—EDW Ranch

  Abby had her nose pressed up against the living room window, her body turned so that Benji couldn’t squeeze in front of her and block her view down toward town. Suddenly she stiffened, pressing her whole face against the glass. Then she whirled, cupped both hands to her mouth, leaned forward, and shrieked, “They’re coming!”

  Instantly the rest of the children surrounded her, screeching and hollering and pressing their noses to the glass as well. Five seconds later, the door to the kitchen swung open and Edie burst out, followed closely by Tina, June, and Rena. “Are you sure?” Edie asked, pushing her way through the crush of kids.

  “Yes, Mama. Look!”

  Edie did, knowing there was no way to tell if the approaching Model T was for sure theirs until it got closer. There were several Fords just like it in town. But there were none up on this side of town, so she grabbed Benji by the shoulder. “You and Noah go out and tell Grandpa, MJ, and Rowland that they’re here.”

  “Aw, Mom! I want to be here when they come.”

  Edie swatted him on the backside. “Then you’d better hurry, hadn’t you? Now go!” She turned to Abby. “You and Tina pick up the living room.” She untied her apron, took it off, and handed it to Edna June. “Here, sweetie, take Grandma’s apron and go put it in the drawer in the kitchen. I’ve got to brush my hair.”

  2:25 p.m.

  “Now children,” Edie said a few minutes later, “we’re not going to be lined up at the window like a bunch of monkeys at the zoo waiting for some peanuts. Let’s have the families in the living room, and Grandpa and I will go out and greet them.”

  “Mama,” Tina interrupted. “Can I go too? I met Celeste at the wedding, and we became good friends, remember?”

  “No, Tina. I want you to be holding Reginald when Celeste comes in. She’s going to be very anxious to see him.”

  “All right.” Tina liked that idea too. She went over to the playpen and picked Reginald up.

  Edie went on. “Grandpa and I will bring Celeste in and introduce her to all of you who haven’t met her yet. But I’m sure she’s exhausted, so we’ll see if she wants to take a nap. Then we’ll have dinner around five.”

  As the car finally turned onto the lane and chugged its way through the four inches of snow that had fallen overnight, Edie took Mitch’s hand and they went out onto the porch. They waved as it drove up. Through the windshield, Edie saw Celeste wave back.

  “At least we got her a beautiful day,” Mitch murmured.

  “It’s perfect.” It had been snowing lightly when Frank had left for Thompson Springs shortly after six that morning. Now the clouds were gone and the sky was a brilliant blue. The temperature was in the mid-forties and still rising, and the eaves were dripping steadily as the shingles soaked up the heat. “I just hope the roads weren’t too bad for Frank this morning.”

  Mitch smiled. “Frank drives in Boston, dear. I think he’s used to slick roads.”

  The driver’s door opened and Frank got out. He waved too as he walked around and opened Celeste’s door. He offered his hand and she slid out of the car.

  “Oh, my,” Edie whispered.

  Mitch shot her a questioning look, but Edie didn’t see it. She was remembering that day in Boston when she and Mitch and the twins, fresh off the boat from Germany, had stopped at a small home in Cambridge looking for Frank. When the door opened, it was Celeste who was standing there. Though she had come to unpack Frank’s things in their new apartment, she looked as if she had just stepped off the cover of a women’s magazine. Three words had come to Edie’s mind as Celeste introduced herself to the family: money, money, money.

  When she and Tina had returned a few months later for the wedding, Edie realized that she had totally understated the situation. Celeste’s parents weren’t rich. They were very, very rich. The Dickerson mansion was in Beacon Hill, Boston’s most prestigious neighborhood, according to Frank, and was staffed by half a dozen servants. The wedding was held in the Cathedral of the Holy Cross, Boston’s largest and most magnificent Catholic church, and was performed by the archbishop himself. Not being Catholic, Edie hadn’t known exactly what that meant, but from the way Celeste pronounced the title, it was obviously something quite unusual. The reception that night had been held in a ballroom big enough to accommodate about half the population of Utah, and then Celeste and Frank had sailed off for a honeymoon in the Caribbean.

  At the reception, Mrs. Dickerson had let it “accidentally” drop that the reception alone had cost her husband twelve thousand dollars. It was all Edie could do to stop her jaw from falling open. You could buy an entire ranch for that kind of money.

  And now, here Celeste was again, every bit as beautiful, every bit as elegant, every inch of her nothing but . . . celestial. Her name was perfect for her. She had on a long, black coat that came down about six inches below her knees. The cuffs of both sleeves and the collar were made of some kind of dark brown fur. Edie wasn’t an expert in such things, but she guessed that the fur was real mink. Faux fur would be unthinkable, of course.

  The coat was unbuttoned, revealing a very chic, brilliant red dress with a small round collar. Around Celeste’s neck was a tiny gold chain with a cross on it. The dress perfectly matched her lipstick and the low heels she wore on her feet. On her head, she wore a close-fitting, bell-shaped hat, the rim of which nearly reached her eyebrows. Tina had assured Edie that these were the most popular style of women’s headwear in America right now.

  Edie didn’t doubt it. She couldn’t imagine Celeste not being right up with the very latest in everything. And to her surprise, she felt a tiny stab of envy. No one would ever say that about her.

  “She wore that on the train?” Mitch whispered in astonishment. Horrified that Celeste might have heard him, Edie shot him a warning look. But his question hung there. Had she? Edie shook her head. She couldn’t have. There wasn’t a wrinkle or a smudge or a crease of any kind. But then, she would have made Frank stop somewhere along the way so she could change, wouldn’t she? She was sure that Celeste was determined to make
the best impression possible.

  “How in the world did our Frank ever get a girl like that?” Mitch remarked out of the corner of his mouth. “She’s a cut or two above us, that’s for sure.”

  “Hush!” Edie scolded. “Go help Frank with her luggage.” Then she ran lightly down the stairs and onto the snow-packed driveway to greet her daughter-in-law.

  5:15 p.m.

  When Celeste came out of the bedroom and into the hall, the red dress, shoes, and gold necklace were gone. Instead she wore a loose-fitting pair of women’s wool slacks that were a soft, golden-brown color. Her blouse was pale beige with long sleeves made of a silky-looking material. On her feet, she wore a simple pair of flats that matched the slacks perfectly. Of course. You wouldn’t want to be caught with shoes that didn’t match.

  Edie glanced at Mitch. Women’s slacks were also one of the latest fashion fads right now, and something else that definitely elevated his blood pressure—which Edie found somewhat funny. Mitch wasn’t bothered at all that the women in the family wore Levi’s around the house or when they were outside working on the ranch, but for a woman to wear dress pants around the house when there was company? But he managed to keep a pleasant smile on his face as Celeste moved over to join them.

  “Oh,” she exclaimed as she saw that Tina was holding Reginald in her arms. “There you are, my little one.” Celeste walked over and took the baby and then cradled him in her arms and bent down and kissed him. “Mummy has missed you so much, Reginald. Have you been a good boy?”

  “He is soooo cute,” Tina said. “And so adorable. We just love him to death.”

  Mitch agreed. “I think we’re going to have to set some rules for the children and grandchildren, or he’s going to be smothered with love.

  Celeste looked around at the upturned faces. “I’m glad. You are the only cousins that he has.”

  “How was he while I slept?” she asked Frank.

  “Perfect,” Edie said. “Keep that boy fed and I can’t believe how good he is.”

  “That’s our boy,” Frank said. “But now that you’re up, hon, I’ll go feed him and put him down while we eat. Okay?”