Lillian settled on a navy blue percale shirtwaist, one with a sailor collar trimmed with white and bishop sleeves over a walking skirt, plain and severe in the same shade of blue. It looked neat and stylish but not too gaudy or so she hoped. Her fingers would not work when she tried to put up her hair and she swallowed her pride, asking Miss Julia if she could help. With the same almost berserk efficiency she displayed for wedding planning, Miss Julia had her hair braided, then pinned up in a very trim figure eight shape in minutes. She came downstairs to wait, running her perspiration-wet palms along the banister as she descended. Howard loved her and she loved him. That was simple fact. However, since they would share their home with his parents, everything hinged on whether or not they liked her and if she felt the same. Lillian could not imagine that two people she wouldn’t like could produce a man such as Howard but she couldn’t help being nervous. She had endured her own maternal issues over the years so no wonder she was afraid that his mother might not like her.
