Sister's Choice by Judith Pella

mother, just as Maggie wasn’t thrilled when everyone also told her that she, Maggie, was exactly like her mama. It wasn’t that Maggie didn’t love and admire her mother and even aspire to many of her finer qualities, but like anyone else, she wanted her own identity, wanted to be unique. Not to mention the fact that she and Mama were constantly butting heads. Could it be they argued so much because they were alike? Had Mama and Grandma argued a lot when Mama was younger? They seemed to get on well now.
    “Maggie, you are being unusually pensive,” Grandma said.
    “Huh?” Maggie replied, pulling her thoughts back to focus on the activity in the Newcomb kitchen. She was just in time to catch her mother casting a peculiar glance in Grandma’s direction, like an unspoken signal or something she hadn’t intended for Maggie to see. What was that all about?
    “Goodness! I am so happy to be here.” Grandma reached across the table and patted Maggie’s hand. “I have missed my grandchildren.”
    “Too bad I’m the only one around right now,” Maggie said. Grandma had arrived that afternoon. Not knowing exactly when Grandma would come, Ellie had run into Maintown to get thread at the general store. She would be home soon. Boyd was working up at the lumber camp and wouldn’t be home until Saturday. Dad was out in the field harvesting their potatoes, and Georgie was helping him—Maggie would have been there, too, except Mama thought there ought to be some kind of welcoming committee to greet Grandma. So it was just Mama and Maggie on hand for Grandma’s arrival.
    “I am going to make it a point to spend some alone time with each one of you this visit.” Grandma Spooner was the kind of grandmother whose statement like that didn’t make you cringe. Maggie had always enjoyed her company. And, now that she thought about it, if Mama was like Grandma and Maggie was like Mama, then it stood to reason that Maggie was also like Grandma. That wasn’t such a bad thing after all.
    But Maggie sure didn’t feel like Grandma, who was kind, thoughtful, and even serene. She always said the right thing, was never selfish, and, of course, was very skilled in all the womanly pursuits. Maggie wondered what the woman had been like when she was younger. Had she argued with her mother about things? Had she felt out of step with other girls her age? And clumsy with boys? Surely not.
    “Grandma,” Maggie ventured, “since that’s what you’d like to do, may I suggest something you and I might do?” She suddenly felt shy and awkward. If she continued, both the older women at the table would question her motives, and it would be embarrassing to explain.
    “Of course.”
    Maggie forged ahead. “Well, I was wondering if . . . well, if—that is, if there is time. I mean, there probably won’t be, and I would understand. In fact . . .” Her resolve crumbled with each word. “I know there won’t be, time, that is. It would take forever—”
    “Why don’t you let me decide if there is time?” Grandma said. “Tell me what you’d like to do.”
    “Maggie, I have never known you to be so tongue-tied,” put in Mama.
    Now there definitely were going to be questions. Maggie rolled her eyes at her own stupidity. But she made herself go on. “Okay, I-I’d like you to teach me to sew,” she finished in a rush.
    “I’d love to,” Grandma enthused.
    Mama opened her mouth to speak, but Grandma shot her a glance, kind of an unspoken signal as Mama had done earlier, but this was also like a mother hushing her child. Mama clamped her mouth shut. It was almost as if they already knew Maggie’s motives, but they couldn’t possibly know. Only Ellie and Zack knew about Colby. Mama may have guessed, but she couldn’t have said anything to Grandma. They hadn’t been alone since her arrival.
    Maggie was relieved there wasn’t going to be an interrogation about her request. She had feared Mama might take offense at Maggie’s going over