Free Crossroads by Belva Plain Page A

everyone does. She would make her own mistakes, and she would not learn from Cassandra’s—no matter how much her mother wanted to spare her. And yet . . . Cassandra looked out the window up at the hill where her smart, sensitive, insecure, shy daughter was hiding. And yet . . .
    “Why didn’t I ask them to send my secretary out here with those damn papers instead of Jewel?” She let out a sigh of frustration.
    “Your secretary . . . she’s the one who wears the orthopedic oxfords?”
    “She’s fifty-three years old and her arches have fallen.”
    “I see.”
    “That darned Jewel Fairchild.”

Chapter Nine

    I t was funny the way things happened sometimes, Jewel thought. For the three years that she’d worked for Mrs. Wright, she’d never laid eyes on her daughter. Then she’d gone to Mrs. Wright’s house to deliver those papers and she’d had that strange little encounter with Gwen in that fabulous library, and now it seemed like every time she turned around, there was Gwen Wright!
    First, the girl had dropped by the glassworks to show her mother the new haircut she’d just gotten for their trip to Paris.
    “Très chic,” Mrs. Wright said as she whisked Gwen through the lobby. “You’ll look like a true Parisienne.”
    Jewel thought the cut was a disaster. Whoever had done it had gone for a tapered bob and Gwen’s reddish brown hair was wiry. It would have been better to have layered it. Jewel had taught herself about hair and makeup; she read every fashion magazine she could get her hands on, and there were three makeover shows on television that she watched faithfully. Gwen probably considered herself much too grand to waste her time with things like that, but as Gwen and her mother walked together down the hallway, Jewel remembered her ride into town with old Albert. Gabby old Albert who told stories about family secrets.
    But I know you’re not all that grand, Gwen,
Jewel thought as she watched the two women disappear into the sacred space known as Mrs. Wright’s Office.
I know all about you.
    The next time Jewel and Gwen ran into each other, it was early morning and Jewel had run downstairs to the deli below her apartment to grab a bagel and a cup of coffee on her way to work. Gwen was sitting on a stool at the counter. At first, Jewel thought she’d mistaken her for someone else, because what on earth would Gwen Wright be doing in Berger’s Deli? At best, the neighborhood was what real estate people called “marginal.” Yet it was definitely Gwen, looking out of place and lost.
    Jewel decided to skip the bagel and coffee, but before she could turn and go, Gwen had spotted her. She’d smiled that tentative smile that seemed to be her trademark, and there was no way Jewel could duck out without saying hello.
    “I’m waiting for my stepfather,” Gwen said after the niceties were out of the way. “I have to pick up my passport and City Hall is around the corner. We wanted to get there early and Walter says this place has the best breakfast in town.” She’d shrugged awkwardly. “So here I am.”
    Then Walter had shown up and invited Jewel to have breakfast with them, but she couldn’t because it was getting late and she had to get to work.
    Unlike some people who have the time for a nice leisurely breakfast while they wait for City Hall to open so they can pick up the
passport they need for their trip to Paris.
    As Jewel waited for her bus to take her to the glass works, she thought again about old Albert and the secret he’d told her. And then she thought about luck, and how some people have all of it and some have none. By the time she got to work she was in a rotten mood.
    That was happening more and more often. Jewel tried to shake the anger behind her bad temper but the vision of the gleaming white house in which Gwen lived, the diamond and gold bracelet on her wrist, together with the knowledge that Gwen didn’t deserve any of it, ate away at Jewel. And the chance run-ins with