Free Sleepwalk by John Saul Page B

nodded, but there was something in his tone that told her the question was more than just casual conversation. “I haven’t talked to him, but he’s certainly just as handsome as ever. With your eyes and Alice’s features and skin, he ought to be in the movies.”
    Frank smiled, but it seemed forced, and when he spoke, there was an edge to his voice. “Maybe you ought to suggest that to him.”
    Judith stepped back, abashed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
    “Hey,” Frank said quickly, “don’t you be sorry. It’s just that I’m having a rough time with Jed right now.” He managed a crooked grin. “They don’t give you a book of instructions when they give you the kid, and right now I guess I’m feeling a little inadequate. But I shouldn’t take it out on you. I apologize.”
    Judith let herself relax a little, but when Frank reached out to squeeze her arm reassuringly, she felt something very like an electrical shock run through her. “It’s all right,” she assured him. Then she thought she understood what Frank had been talking about. “It was Jed who found Heather, wasn’t it?”
    Frank nodded. “It was pretty bad for him, but that’s not really the problem.” He seemed about to say more, then apparently changed his mind. “And I sure don’t have any call to bother you with my troubles, do I? I hardly know you.”
    A twinge of unexplainable panic ran through Judith as Frank started to turn away. This time it was she who grabbed his arm. “Not so fast, Frank,” she said, doingher best to keep her tone bantering. “You’ve known me all my life, and Jed was my favorite kid when I was a baby-sitter. Also, I happen to be a high school teacher, which is supposed to make me some kind of an expert on teenagers. Tell me what the problem is.”
    Frank eyed her appraisingly for a moment, then finally came to a decision. “All right,” he said, matching her bantering tone on the surface, but making no attempt to cover the deep worry beneath. “He says he’s going to quit school and get a job so he can get out of here. He thinks no one here likes him because he’s half Indian, and he thinks his mother killed herself because she was an Indian and didn’t think anyone here liked her either.”
    Almost to her own surprise, Judith’s eyes met Frank’s squarely, and she asked the first question that came into her mind. “Is he right?”
    Words of denial immediately sprang to Frank’s lips, but when he spoke, the words that came out were not the ones he had intended. “I don’t know,” he said softly, his pain clear not only in his voice, but in his eyes as well. “Maybe he is.”
    Judith said nothing for a moment, having to fight an urge to put her arms around Frank’s broad-shouldered body and comfort him. “I-If there’s anything I can do …” she began, then let the sentence hang, feeling suddenly awkward.
    Now it was Frank who was silent for a moment. Then he grinned at her almost shyly. “Maybe you could come over for dinner some night,” he suggested. He hesitated, and reddened slightly. “Jed always liked you.”
    Again their eyes met, and this time the look held for several seconds.
    “Tonight?” Judith heard herself ask.
    Plainly flustered, Frank managed a nod.
    Max Moreland peered up at Judith over the rims of his half glasses, an almost comical expression of surprise giving him the look of an old Norman Rockwell
Saturday Evening Post
cover. “Frank Arnold invited you to dinner?”
    Judith eyed him quizzically. “Is that so strange? We’ve known each other for years—I used to baby-sit for Jed, remember?”
    Max ignored the second question, choosing to focus on the first instead. “Well, I don’t know what you call strange, but Frank hasn’t invited any woman anywhere since Alice died.”
    Judith felt a warm glow in her face, and hoped it didn’t show. “It’s hardly like a date,” she said, but could see that Max didn’t believe her. “It’s just for