Free Blessings by Belva Plain Page B

add to it, this pin’s gotten loose and my strap shows.” She wriggled, trying to reach her back.
    “Come here, I’ll fix it for you.”
    They stood before the mirror. Jennie saw a stocky woman with graying hair cut like a man’s, and a large, egg-shaped face with drooping cheeks. She wore a plain black dress of expensive silk.
    “There. The pin’s fixed. What’re you going to do about your feet?”
    “Relieve them a little and then suffer through the rest of the night, I guess. There’s nothing else I can do.”
    “Are you the girl who’s visiting Peter?”
    “Yes, how did you guess?”
    “The accent. Everyone else is from around here. Besides, I heard you were coming. And the dress I remembered from Sally June’s party. I thought it was a namby-pamby dress even on her.”
    Jennie burst out laughing. The words were so apt, and she liked this woman’s bluntness, the bright, shrewd eyes that redeemed the homely face.
    “It was nice of them to lend it to me, though. I really have no right to complain.”
    “That’s true, you haven’t. By the way, I’m Aunt Lee Mendes, the one who gave Cindy a colt for her birthday. I suppose you heard about that.” She chuckled.
    “Well, yes, it was mentioned.”
    “I’m sure it was. They all love me in their way, my family, but they feel I’m an odd one, and I daresay I am. However, the colt’s a beauty. If your feet weren’t killing you and it wasn’t so dark, I’d take you out to the stables now and show him to you. To tell you the truth, at the last minute I hated to part with him. I’m crazy about animals. Are you?”
    “I would be if I had any room for them. Where I live, there’s not even decent space for a dog.”
    “A fancy apartment in New York, I suppose?”
    “No. A row house in Baltimore.” Jennie looked squarely at Aunt Lee. And from her mouth came words that she hadn’t intended to speak, that were perhaps entirely out of place. For some reason, nevertheless, once she had spoken them, she felt good. “My family’s poor.”
    The woman nodded. “Then I suppose you’ve never been at a party like this before.”
    “Frankly, no.”
    “Feel out of place, do you?”
    “A little.” She added quickly, “At college we all get together a lot, and I’m really very friendly—” She stopped, wondering why she was spilling out such personal revelations.
    “I see you are. And very determined. Peter isn’t, though. You’ve probably noticed.”
    They certainly were right about this woman’s oddness. Yet maybe one only thought she was odd because most people covered up all the time, and she simply said what she was thinking. It puzzled Jennie.
    “No, Peter isn’t,” Aunt Lee repeated, “but he’s the salt of the earth.”
    “That’s what he said about you.”
    “I’m pleased he did. We’re very fond of each other. I remember all our summers at the farm, where he’d spend weeks at a time. I taught him things, real things, taught him to ride a horse, to drive a tractor, to plant and harvest and love the earth. Yes, he’s a good boy. Too good for his own good, I sometimes think. Too—obliging. That’s the word. Obliging.”
    Jennie had begun to feel restless. She didn’t want to discuss Peter with this strange woman. Wincing, she put on the shoes and said, “I’d better be getting back.”
    “Yes, you’d better. I’m staying here a little longer. The din from all those talking heads gives me a headache.”
    Peter came over to her. “Where’ve you been?” he asked. “I’ve been looking for you.”
    “I had to take off my shoes. I met your famous Aunt Lee.”
    “What did you think of her?”
    “Well, she’s certainly different. But I liked her, in a way. Do you mind if we don’t dance anymore? I really can’t.”
    “Oh, I’m sorry. Your poor feet.”
    They sat down at a small lace-covered table near the French doors that opened onto the terrace. Music floated in. A waiter brought drinks.
    “It’s not such a bad night,