Free Western Wind by Paula Fox

couldn’t find you after he got home?” Aaron asked.
    â€œThat’s still another part of the story,” Gran said, smiling at him. “I’ll tell you another time.”
    â€œI was so fortunate in my parents,” Mrs. Herkimer said with a long, gratified sigh.
    â€œYes,” Deirdre snapped. “You might have been born in an old trailer and had some lady swear your mattress was full of money when you couldn’t afford to buy one of your own lobsters!”
    â€œDeirdre, that will do!” said Mr. Herkimer sternly.
    â€œI think the sky is so starry tonight we might not need our flashlight,” Gran said quickly.
    His mouth full of dessert, Aaron said to Elizabeth, “Let’s go back to the cemetery tomorrow.”
    â€œWe’ll see,” she replied.
    â€œYou sound like one of them ,” he complained.
    She started to protest, but Gran, Deirdre, and the Herkimers were moving into the entrance hall. Aaron stayed in his chair, picking blueberries out of the dough squares and stuffing his mouth with them. Elizabeth joined the others. Mrs. Herkimer drew her aside at once.
    â€œAaron really does like you,” she said. “If you could keep him company once in a while, you could think of it as a summer job—we’d pay you—”
    â€œYou won’t pay her,” Gran said, walking to where they were standing.
    Elizabeth felt a flash of resentment. It wasn’t up to Gran. At the same time, she knew she was right. And in any case, she didn’t want to be a baby-sitter on Pring Island.
    Deirdre was gesturing at her. She went to the staircase, where the girl was leaning against the newel post, holding the teddy bear in one hand. She didn’t seem to be aware of how fiercely she was clutching it.
    â€œYou really are lucky,” she said in a low voice. Her face worked as though she were thinking very hard. Then she said, as Elizabeth stood there awkwardly, “Your luck is that you weren’t born into a family that thinks it’s more wonderful than any other family in the history of the world.”
    Elizabeth still felt the surprise of Deirdre’s words as she and Gran walked through the meadow. When they were well out of earshot of the Herkimer house, she said, “That’s some bunch of people! They all seem crazy except Mr. Herkimer, and he’s like their keeper.”
    Gran laughed and the sound of her laughter was comforting in the cool dark night. She had turned on the flashlight after all. The vast sky glimmered through a thin cloud cover. “Families are pretty crazy when you see them close up,” she said.
    They had reached the stony beach. Water lapped softly.
    â€œIs Deirdre always so angry?”
    â€œWhen I first knew her, she was like a sweet bird playing in the meadow. A merry little girl. Growing up is hard, and then there’s their absorption in Aaron.”
    â€œI’ll never be like Deirdre,” Elizabeth said.
    â€œDon’t say ‘never,’ Elizabeth,” Gran said.
    They rounded the sand spit. The cottage rose before them, a small, black cliff. Grace meowed nearby.
    â€œOh!” Gran exclaimed. “I locked her out!”
    â€œWhen you came home that morning in Hollywood, what did your parents say?”
    â€œAs I recall,” Gran said, “they didn’t notice I’d been gone.”

7
    El Sueño arrived at the Herkimer dock, which was larger and sturdier than Gran’s, early the next morning.
    Everyone gathered in silence, after muttered “good mornings,” to observe the boat’s slow approach into the cove. Elizabeth thought, We’re just like the birds that come to sit on the sand spit in the late afternoons.
    They all came closer to the dock as a thin boy of fifteen or so moved quickly to tie up the boat and began to unload boxes and bags of groceries and bundles of mail. Old Jake Holborn would point wordlessly to a box. The boy would