Shirley and Di stood arm-in-arm in the late May sunshine, eagerly awaiting the arrival of their parents, Susan, and Nan and Jerry, all coming in by train for Shirley's graduation tomorrow. Jem and Faith had wanted to come, but little Cecilia Joyce Blythe was still too small to make such a long trip. Rilla was having some complications with her pregnancy as well, and so Dad and Jem had ruled that she should stay home as well. Still, it was the first time any of the family except Jerry and Nan had visited them in Potsdam, so Shirley and Di were still quite pleased.
Di hugged Shirley's arm. "Oh, I can't wait to see them all!" she exclaimed. "I can't believe dear old Susan is actually leaving the Island for the first time in her life—and to come to the States, no less! She wouldn't do it for anyone but you, Shirley."
Shirley smiled absently. He was looking forward to seeing his family, and to culminating his formal education, but he was more keen about the 'phone call he had received from Paul that morning. He had said that Cecily's improvement was beyond anything the doctors had ever seen, and that she was going to be able to go out for brief trips and even see people soon. The thought of actually seeing her again after three years had sober, steady Shirley closer to a state of nervous excitement than he'd ever been in before.
"Look!" squealed Di. "Here comes the train!"
They eagerly stood on the platform as the steaming green monster roared to a stop and slowly disgorged its passengers. Shirley's eyes scanned the hordes of people disembarking—the graduating class was slightly larger than usual, meaning more people were coming in from out of town to witness it—until he saw some familiar figures at the other end.
"There they are!" he pointed. "Mother, Dad! Over here!"
The two groups pushed through the crowd and met in the middle. Mother and Dad looked the same as always—perhaps a few more lines around Dad's mouth and eyes, maybe a bit more silver in Mother's hair—but nothing else. Nan and Jerry, of course, looked very smart, but when Shirley went to hug Susan, his heart sank unexpectedly.
Why, Susan—Mother Susan—looked old! He had never noticed before just how old she really was. Her hair had always been grey and her face always lined, as long as he could remember, but she had never looked so old and worn-down before. He wasn't sure if she really was getting so elderly, or if it was just that he hadn't seen her since Rilla's wedding, but either way, it left a nasty taste in his mouth.
Then a short figure popped out from behind Dad, grinning broadly, and Shirley forgot his worries for just a moment.
"Patrick Samuels! As I live and breathe, what are you doing here?"
Patrick's eyes twinkled merrily as he pumped Shirley's hand up and down. "Your charming sister wrote and casually mentioned that a visit from an old friend might be in order this weekend. You don't mind, do you?"
"My sister?" Shirley swung around to face Di, who was looking quite pleased with herself. "You planned this?"
She nodded smugly. "Patrick and I have been planning this ever since Christmas. I thought that seeing him would be a nice graduation present for you."
He pulled both of them into a mighty hug. "You two are incorrigible, but I'm so blessed to have you both." He kissed the top of Di's head, squeezed Patrick's shoulder briefly, and then released them, grinning widely.
"Well, enough of this!" boomed Dad. "I'm tired and starving and don't have time to stand around holding a million bags while my children get all sentimental." His hazel eyes shone proudly as he regarded them all, belying his jesting words. "Shirley, lead us to our hotel, son, and then for mercy's sake, get us some food! We haven't had a decent meal since we left Ingleside."
"Right you are, Dad," said Shirley, grabbing Susan's bag and leading the way out of the train station. "A meal, a brief rest, and then we'll show you our town."
They had booked rooms for the family at the old-fashioned Clarkson Inn, all except Patrick, who would be sleeping on the sofa in the apartment. After unpacking and enjoying a light tea in the tearoom, everyone was more than ready for some exploration. Shirley took them on a tour of both college campuses: Potsdam Normal School, the local teacher's college; and Clarkson Memorial School of Technology, both of which were covered in crab apple and cherry blossoms, drifting down from the trees all over the grounds.
Once they had finished ooh-ing and ah-ing over the colleges, Di took over. She showed the family the Orphan Home where she worked, as well as the many little shops and eateries downtown. Patrick and Jerry got very excited over White's Hardware, and Mother and Nan raved about all the beautiful old sandstone buildings and the sparkling Raquette River wending its way through the heart of the village. Susan sniffed and said it all looked very unhealthy to her, but even her eyes softened when she saw the little shop selling every kind of yarn and knitting patterns possible.
Meanwhile, Shirley and Dad lingered a little ways behind the others, talking in low voices.
"Dad," said Shirley painfully. "Is Susan—nothing is wrong with Susan, is there?"
Dad sighed heavily. "Her heart is not very strong, son," he replied quietly. "I've prescribed her some medicine and tried to get her to take things a bit easier, but you know Susan. She told me that she'd rather drop in the saddle than get old and feeble and be a burden on everybody."
"As if she could ever be a burden on us!" Shirley burst out indignantly, even as his heart contracted painfully within him. He couldn't stand to think of Susan—dying. It just didn't seem possible. She'd always been around Ingleside, and it wouldn't be the same without her.
Dad smiled wryly. "Well, of course we know that, but Susan has a great deal of pride. She has been taking the medicine, but it won't do much for her unless she slows down a bit too. And you know, son, the war was very hard on her, as was losing Walter. It aged all of us prematurely." For a moment, the lines in his face and the grey in his curls were very pronounced.
Shirley sighed. "How much longer does she have?"
Dad shrugged. "She could go on for months, maybe even a few years, or she could go tomorrow. The heart's a tricky thing, nearly impossible to predict. But Shirley," suddenly looking stern, "none of your siblings know about this other than Jem, and that the way it is to stay. Susan doesn't want people fussing over her, and she told me quite bluntly that she didn't want to see any tears shed on her behalf. I wouldn't have told you, except…well, you've always been closer to Susan than your brothers and sisters, and I felt you had the right to know. Jem didn't think she ought to have made this trip, but her heart was set on it, and I didn't feel it right to dissuade her. After all, it is her life, and seeing you will likely counteract any negative effects the journey might otherwise have on her."
Shirley blinked back stinging tears as he tried to take it all in. Oh, it didn't seem fair that just as one person he cared about was starting to get better another was getting worse!
Dad clapped him on the shoulder. "Cheer up, son! Moping over it won't change things. Susan wouldn't want this to spoil your graduation, so try to put it out of your mind for now, and just enjoy the time we have with her still. Besides," with a slight chuckle, "if I know Susan, she'll hang on a while longer, just to prove me wrong."
Shirley recognized the wisdom behind Dad's blunt words. He scrubbed the back of his hand roughly over his eyes and mustered a smile, determined to act as though nothing was different. After all, as Dad said, she could live for years still, and it wouldn't do to waste the time they did have by fearing the future.
Saturday dawned bright and sunny, with just enough of a breeze to keep things from getting too warm. Shirley tried to stand still while Di fussed over his navy blue suit, straightening his collar and smoothing out the wrinkles in the shoulders.
"I don't see why I couldn't have just worn my uniform," he said patiently, letting her undo and retie his necktie.
"Oh honestly, Shirley, your uniform would simply not have done for your graduation!" she exclaimed. "This suit makes you look very handsome."
"Or as handsome as he ever can look," teased Patrick dryly, watching the performance from his seat on the living room couch.
Shirley threw the clothes brush at him, but Patrick merely ducked and came up grinning.
"Really, you two, anyone would think you were about four years old from the way you act," scolded Di good-naturedly. She stepped back and looked Shirley over critically. "There, now you're ready."
"Good," said Shirley, glancing at the clock. "Because if I don't leave right now I'll be late."
"We'll be there cheering you on!" called Di as he dashed out the door.
"Don't trip when you walk across the stage!" added Patrick.
Shirley chuckled to himself as he loped quickly to the college.
When he did walk across the stage to receive his diploma—taking great care to not trip—he looked out and saw them all sitting there, beaming with pride: Mother and Dad, misty-eyes and reminiscing over their graduation; Susan, as staunch and strong and loving as ever; Nan, with her growing middle nicely disguised by the vertical stripes of her chocolate-and-ivory dress, holding Jerry's hand; and Patrick sitting next to Di, the two of them grinning up at him and waving. A great flood of love for them all washed over Shirley as the president shook his hand and pronounced him a full-fledged Bachelor of Science. He couldn't imagine a better family anywhere, for anyone, and he was so blessed to have been born into such a clan. For the moment, all else, even the parchment proclaiming his graduation faded into lesser importance compared with the family he'd been given.