Free To Live by Dori Lavelle Page A

Saulery. But then again, if she'd remembered to lock her door the other day, Shaun wouldn't have been able to alert her about the burning pot.
    Brian was reading a dog-eared book and Sarah was knitting. They both looked up in surprise when she entered.
    "Wow, Kelsey, your hair is lovely," Sarah said. "Maeve was right; your eyes do stand out more. They're such a lovely blue."
    Kelsey ran a hand through her hair. She was still getting used to having it short, but she loved her new hairstyle more each day. "Thank you. Maeve did a fantastic job."
    Brian stood up to greet Kelsey. "We were starting to wonder what had happened to you."
    "I've been busy settling in. This is for you both—something I picked up at the farmer's market."
    Sarah put down her knitting and reached for the basket. "That's so kind of you."
    "It's a major tourist attraction," Brian said. "Did you go alone?"
    "No, I went with... Shaun."
    Brian and Sarah exchanged a quick glance and then Sarah cleared her throat and smiled. "That's... that's nice, but you really didn't have to get us something, love." She placed the basket on her lap.
    "It's just something small. A thank you for your kindness."
    "Take a seat." Sarah stood. "Can I get you something to drink?"
    "Don't worry, I'm not staying long. I just came to ask you for some information."
    Sarah and Brian both perked up, as if all along they'd just been waiting to be useful. "What would you like to know?" Sarah sat down again.
    "Do you know of any culinary schools in Dreara?"
    "You want to be a chef?" Sarah leaned forward, her softly lined face lighting up.
    "Since I was a little girl. I'm interested in taking some lessons. But I don't know where to start searching for a school. I thought you might be able to help me out."
    Kelsey felt a guilty pang at having asked them instead of Shaun, who had spurred her on in the first place and offered to help find a school. But for the past week, she'd tried to distance herself from him. She couldn't spend time with him without wanting to climb into his bed. And she couldn't sleep with him without getting hurt. The best thing to do was to stay away for a while and concentrate on herself. A cooking lesson would keep her busy enough.
    "I know just the place." Brian stood and reached for his coat. "I can take you there right now if you're ready to go."
    "More than ready."
    ***
    The Cooking Academy was attached to the Dreara Junior Secondary School. Brian waited in the car while Kelsey went inside to enquire. He had offered to go in with her, but Kelsey wanted to do it alone.
    Twenty minutes later, she exited the building with a folder and a large grin. "I'm starting next week," she told Brian as she fastened her seatbelt.
    Brian squeezed her hand. "Already? That's grand."
    If only Brian knew how incredibly fantastic it was. For Kelsey, it was more than she could ever have wished for. She was lucky; the class starting next week had been full, but they had managed to fit her in. The course would not turn her into a world-renowned chef, but she'd at least learn the basics. It was one step down the road from dream to reality.
    ***
    Five days after Brian drove Kelsey to The Cooking Academy, her kitchen faucet had started dripping. Brian had fixed it immediately, but two days ago, it started again. Not wanting to disturb him again, she'd placed a bowl under it and did her best to ignore the annoying sound. She’d tried fixing it herself, stuffing a ball of cotton in the nozzle, and turning up the volume of the TV, but nothing worked.
    Today she gave in and called Brian again. He promised to send someone over before the end of the day.
    Around eight o'clock in the evening, Kelsey gave up the wait and lounged on the sofa watching TV—at a high-enough volume to muffle the dripping sound from the kitchen. Maybe Brian couldn't find someone at such late notice. It didn't matter. She could deal with a dripping faucet for one more night, no matter how much the sound was grating on her