Free When the Wind Blows by John Saul Page B

as Diana began helping Esperanza Rodriguez, who had been working in the kitchen all morning, pull a series of dishes out of the refrigerator. As she waited for an answer Christie stole a spoonful of potato salad and ate a deviled egg.
    “Oh, she’s just tired,” Diana replied. How could she explain her mother’s attitudes to a nine-year-old? Should she say that her mother was a snob who thought she was better than anyone else, or should she try to explain that Edna was just getting old? But Edna wasn’t “just getting old”—she’d never wanted anyone in the house, not, at least, anyone from Amberton. Even today she’d drawn the lines clearly. If Diana insisted on having a lunch here, Edna would allow it, but it would have to be outdoors. Even for a funeral Edna would not have her home invaded by the townspeople.
    “She doesn’t like me, does she?” Christie asked.
    Diana stopped what she was doing and looked at Christie, who was staring up at her, her pale blue eyes large and frightened.
    “It’s not that she doesn’t like you,” Diana said carefully, searching for the right words and wishing she knew more about how to talk to a child. “It’s just that she’s not used to you. It’s been a long time since I was a little girl, and she’s forgotten what little girls are like.”
    Christie shook her head. “She scares me,” she said. “She doesn’t like me, and she scares me.”
    Diana sat down at the table and pulled Christie onto her lap, while Esperanza, who was quietly listening to their conversation, kept working. “How does she scare you?” she asked.
    “I—I’m not sure,” Christie stammered. “I guess it’s the way she looks at me.”
    “How does she look at you?” Diana pressed.
    Christie thought for a moment. When she spoke, her voice was barely a whisper. “Like she wishes I was dead.”
    Diana’s breath caught, and in the depths of her mind she again heard the haunting sound of a crying child. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Esperanza crossing herself.
    “No!” she said sharply. “She doesn’t wish you were dead. She doesn’t wish that at all. I know it!” She lifted Christie off her lap and stood up, as if trying to shake off the sudden fear the child’s words had caused her. She glanced around the room, searching for something to do, something that would make her forget Christie’s words. She could feel Esperanza’s eyes on her, and that only made her even more nervous.
    Suddenly there was a knock at the back door, and Diana turned in confusion, her fear of a moment ago turning into an odd sort of panic for which she knew there was no reason. Her hands went to her hair, smoothing it. I’m all right, she told herself. I’ve got to be all right.
    “Come in,” she called. The door opened, and Joyce Crowley appeared, her arms filled with a cake box and a large brown bag.
    “Hi! I thought you might need some help, and I brought along a few things, just in case.” She stepped inside, let the door slam shut behind her, and, never having been in the Amber house before, looked curiouslyaround the big kitchen, with its enormous range, three ovens, and walk-in refrigerator. “God, I wish I had something like this in my house.” She set her packages on the table, then faced Diana. Her cheerful grin faded and was replaced by a frown. “Are you all right?” she asked, “You look like you just saw a ghost.”
    “I’m fine,” Diana said. “Tired, I guess.”
    Joyce nodded. “That’s why I’m here—I figured you could use some help. Where do you want all this stuff?”
    “Outside,” Diana told her. As Joyce’s frown deepened she felt compelled to make some explanation. “It’s such a pretty day, and mother thought—”
    “’Nuff said,” Joyce cut in, winking at Diana. “Whatever Lola wants, as the old song says. Right?”
    For the first time in three days the tension in Diana broke. Though they had known each other for years, they had never been