Free The Immigrant’s Daughter by Howard Fast Page A

wine.
    Barbara joined the table and indicated the Cabernet, which Freddie poured for her. A small ceremony, but old enough for her to have developed a true preference. The two Mexican women, both of them illegals, passed around the table with platters of sliced leg of lamb and bowls of chile beans, and Barbara, who had given no thought to dinner, found her appetite in the delicious aroma of the food, helped herself and considered how much of the food served here had the flavor of Mexico in it. There was much of Mexico at Higate, and old Jake, from the time he and Clair bought the place, well over half a century ago, had made a point of hiring a certain number of illegals. Barbara could remember his argument that the land was theirs and we had taken it from them. To give back a little had eased his conscience.
    â€œI’m so glad you decided to come,” Eloise told her. “I mean, just on the spur of the moment. You hardly ever do, you know — it takes such pleading to get you here.”
    â€œI treasure my welcome — and guard it. I don’t want to waste it.”
    â€œWhat nonsense!” Clair snorted.
    â€œAunt Barbara comes when the sky is falling down — she props it up. Right?” Freddie said.
    â€œWrong,” his wife informed him.
    â€œOh, I wish I were propping it up,” Barbara said. “But — well, sort of.”
    â€œWe want a toast,” Adam said, raising his glass. “Barbara?”
    â€œJust peace — and a few grains of happiness, wherever we may find them.”
    â€œGood enough,” Clair said.
    Barbara realized that there was no way she could lure Eloise away and say to her, “Darling, I have lost my mind, but I must tell you all about it.” Instead, she paused in her dinner, chewed a mouthful of lamb, and said, “Dear ones, I’m running for Congress again. I had to tell someone.”
    All the eating stopped, and they stared at her. May Ling said it was great and she was sure Barbara would make it. Clair thought she had lost her mind. “Oh, I have. I certainly have,” Barbara agreed. “But I think every candidate is a little bit insane, don’t you?”
    â€œA little bit?” Freddie asked.
    Adam said, “Stop being a damn smartass, and let Barbara talk.”
    â€œI don’t want to talk,” Barbara protested. “I’ve said my piece. I was walking down at the Embarcadero, and it occurred to me that walking along the Embarcadero each day is hardly the most interesting way to spend the rest of my life. I am bored to death with looking at crabs, watching sea gulls and watching the tourists watch sea gulls and watching the film companies film the tourists watching the sea gulls — good Lord, listen to me — and then I saw Tony Moretti standing there on the street. I walked over to him, and he said, How about this time? And I said yes.”
    â€œJust like that?” Eloise asked softly.
    â€œJust like hat.”
    â€œDoes Sam know?” Adam wondered.
    â€œNo, I’m afraid to tell him.”
    â€œWhat nonsense!” Clair exclaimed, forgetting that she had already disposed of Barbara’s mind and judgment. “What does he expect you to do? Sit by the fire and knit?”
    â€œSomething of the sort. You know, being a doctor doesn’t mean you’re wise or bright. Well, Sam’s bright enough, but not overequipped with common sense. He constantly asks me to rest. Rest, take it easy, Mother, haven’t you done enough?”
    â€œThe first time,” Eloise said, “you were after something else. You wanted a platform. Oh, I’ve felt like that so many times — just to stand up and shout that we must do something about our agony — about their stupidity and our tears, their cruelty and idiocy —”
    It’s Joshua’s absence from this table. That’s what she’s saying, Barbara thought. No simple absence,