Free Francesca's Kitchen by Peter Pezzelli Page B

do it in the first place?’
    â€œI don’t know,” Francesca admitted. “I guess it’s almost like asking me why I breathe. I don’t understand how or why it happens, but I know if I stop doing it, it’s all over for me. That’s kind of the way I feel about this whole thing. It’s just a way to keep me breathing.”
    â€œIf I were you, I’d stop and take a deep breath, and then think about this some more before I went ahead with it,” said Peg.
    Just then, Connie appeared at the door. Peg and Natalie soon filled her in on Francesca’s plan.
    â€œWhat are you, crazy?” she exclaimed.
    â€œThey’ve already asked me that,” replied Francesca. She was finding it hard to suppress a smile, because the more they all tried to dissuade her, the more she felt convinced she was doing the right thing.
    â€œBut who are these people?” asked Connie. “What do you know about them?”
    â€œNothing,” replied Francesca with a shrug. “The ad just said, ‘Working mother seeks responsible person,’ to watch her kids after school. That’s all I know.”
    â€œAll the more reason why you shouldn’t do it,” said Natalie. “You never know what kind of creeps you might end up involved with.”
    â€œOh, don’t worry, girls,” Francesca told them. “I know how to take care of myself. Besides, who’s to say that I’ll even get the job? And there’s nothing that says that I have to take it even if they offer it to me. I just want to give myself the chance, that’s all.”
    â€œWell, it’s your life,” said Peg, turning back to her computer. “But if you asked me, I’d say that you’re just looking for trouble.”
    â€œMaybe, but what else is life for?” she replied.
    Later, Francesca left the others to their computer fun and stopped by the front desk to check out some books she had found on babysitting. She tucked them into her book bag and headed to the exit, where she saw Connie waiting by the door.
    â€œNeed a ride home, Connie?”
    â€œNo,” her friend answered. “I’m on my way to do some grocery shopping. That’s if my idiot husband can manage to find his way back here without driving himself into a snowbank someplace. God forbid.”
    â€œI’m sure he’ll make it,” laughed Francesca. “Just be careful out on the roads when he does.”
    â€œAnd you be careful too,” said Connie. “You know what I’m talking about.”
    â€œI will,” Francesca promised.
    With that, she nodded good-bye and walked out to her car. Once inside, she started the engine and sat there for a moment, turning things over in her mind. Francesca wondered if perhaps Peg and the others might be right. Maybe it was a crazy idea to respond to the ad. But then she began to wonder about the person who had placed it, and a thousand intriguing questions danced in her head. Where did this woman live? What kind of person was she? Why did she need someone to help her? What were the children like? Could Francesca help them?
    There was, Francesca well knew, only one way to answer any of these questions, so she took a deep breath, made the sign of the cross, and started on her way back home.

CHAPTER 11
    â€œM om? ”
    The voice came to Loretta Simmons from someplace far, far away, like an echo in a canyon.
    â€œ Mom .”
    It came round again, this time closer and more insistent. There was something tormenting in the sound of it, the way it sought her out no matter how she struggled to escape it.
    â€œ Come on, Mom .”
    She was hiding now at the bottom of what she could only perceive as a deep, dark well, a well from which someone, very much against her will, was trying to pull her up and into the light. She did her best to resist, to stay burrowed in the darkness, but she knew it was of no use. No matter how hard she