Relationship between Frances Goldsmith and Peter Goldsmith

The relationship between Frances (Frannie) Goldsmith and her father Peter is the novel's most stable and nurturing bond, a quiet counterpoint to the bitter conflict that defines her relationship with her mother, Carla. Peter is Frannie's confidant, her moral anchor, and the person who gives her the strength to face her unplanned pregnancy and the subsequent collapse of the world. His death is a devastating blow that forces her into a desperate, solitary act of love, and his memory continues to shape her choices and her fierce protectiveness of her own child long after he is gone.

Identity and Foundation of Trust

Peter Goldsmith is introduced as a man in his sixties, a machinist nearing retirement, who is deeply connected to the land and to his daughter through shared labor and quiet conversation. Frannie finds him in his garden, weeding the peas and beans, and the scene establishes the texture of their bond: she comes to tell him she is pregnant, but first she is lulled by the sound of his voice as he rambles from topic to topic, a storyteller who has never bored her. When she finally blurts out her news, his response is not anger or condemnation but a thoughtful, measured inquiry. He asks if it was Jess Rider, and when she confirms it, he observes dryly that Jess's offer of "marriage or abortion" makes him "a regular two-gun Sam." This wry, unsentimental humor is a hallmark of their relationship. Crucially, he refuses to lay blame, telling her, "Sixty-four has a way of forgetting what twenty-one was like. So we won't talk about blame." This absolution, offered without judgment, is the foundation of the trust between them.

The Garden Confrontation and the Parler

Frannie's relationship with her father is spatially defined by the contrast between his workshop and her mother's parlor. The workshop, a place of tools, dust, and pipe smoke, represents the goodness of childhood and a space where she could be herself. The parlor, by contrast, is the domain of her mother's rigid expectations, a place of tongue-tied formality and dictatorial commands. When Frannie tells her mother about the pregnancy, the confrontation erupts into a violent scene of recrimination, with Carla calling her a "bad girl" and a "tramp." Peter intervenes, physically stopping Carla from closing the door and, for the first time, openly opposing her. He tells Carla that she has been selfish since Fred's death, that she has "stopped caring about Frannie," and that if Frannie needs a place to stay or money, she will have it. He even declares that if Frannie wants her baby christened, "it will be done right here. Right here in this goddamned parlor." This is the moment Peter fully steps into his role as Frannie's protector, breaking a long pattern of passive surrender to his wife's acid tongue.

Death and the Final Act of Love

When the superflu reaches Ogunquit, Peter falls ill and dies at home, in his own bed. Frannie nurses him until the end, and his death leaves her in a state of fragmented shock, unable to focus, forgetting tasks, and on the verge of a breakdown. The most harrowing expression of their bond comes in the aftermath. With no one else to do it, Frannie realizes she must bury her father herself. She dresses his body in his best suit, pins his army medals to his lapel, powders his face with Johnson's Baby Powder, and sews him into her mother's best damask tablecloth. She drags his body down the stairs, through the kitchen, and into the garden, where she digs a grave between the tomatoes and the lettuces. This grueling, intimate act is the final, desperate service she can perform for the man who loved her unconditionally. She plants a rosebush at the foot of the grave, a gesture of enduring love.

Enduring Legacy

Peter's influence persists long after his death. Frannie's memory of him—his calm voice, his workshop, his pipe smoke—becomes a touchstone of sanity in a world gone mad. His example of quiet, practical love shapes her own relationship with Stu Redman and her fierce determination to protect her unborn child. When she feels the baby move for the first time, she thinks of her father and the garden. In her darkest dreams, the dark man chases her through her mother's parlor, but it is her father's body she carries, and it is for his sake that she runs. Peter Goldsmith is the moral center of Frannie's past, and his love is the foundation upon which she builds her future.