Free Dreams for Stones by Ann Warner Page A

legs
flashing, neck arched, dancing across the wooden platform, looking
as if he knew full well how gorgeous he was.
    And Alan Francini? Was she remembering him
as well? Not as conventionally handsome as Greg or the man she’d
met in the park. But definitely appealing, well, that is if she
discounted their first meeting.
    But maybe she now found him attractive
because of seeing him in a ranch setting. The romance of the Old
West and all that. For sure, if she hadn’t first seen him at DSU,
she’d now find it impossible to imagine him in any setting other
than a ranch.
    Odd to realize, if she’d gone with her
instincts and ditched Amanda and her ’orses , she would never
have known riding a horse could be so marvelous. And she wouldn’t
have the memory of Sonoro’s dancing.
    So, all in all, maybe Amanda did have her
uses.
    Kathy looked back at the words on the
screen, but she knew she wasn’t going to be able to write any more
today. She had all the signs. That feeling of restlessness and
tension. The silence. No voices in her head, Amanda’s or anyone
else’s, clamoring to be heard. No “what ifs” niggling at her.
    Better to go over to City Park and spend
some time hitting balls against the practice wall. At least she’d
get some exercise, and the afternoon wouldn’t be a complete waste.
It was chilly, but she’d warm up quickly.
    With quick resolution, she shut off the
computer and gathered her things together.
    But in spite of spending an hour practicing
her backhand, followed by a run, dinner, and an evening of
television shared with the Costellos, Kathy still felt out of
sorts—an uncomfortable jostling mix of irritability and sadness
that had to be more than simple frustration over being unable to
write this weekend.
    Maybe it was seeing that little girl
yesterday. Delia. An unexpected reminder that when she lost Greg
she’d also lost the possibility of family, at least anytime
soon.
    Kathy shook her head, trying to banish Greg.
She’d had a lucky escape. She knew that. But even knowing that,
there were still times when she felt an emptiness that was more
than simply his absence from her life.
    She said goodnight to the Costellos and,
since she wasn’t sleepy, she went through the stack of books in her
reading pile.
    None quite fit her mood. In desperation, she
fell back on her old standby: Emily’s diaries.
    Funny now to think how disappointed she’d
been the day she’d unfolded that piece of paper and discovered the
interviewee she’d been assigned for her twentieth century history
class was a ninety-year-old housewife named Emily Kowalski.
    But it had turned out to be one of the best
things that ever happened to her, because Emily was the one who
gave her the courage to follow a riskier path. “Life is full of
uncertainties, my dear, no matter what you choose,” Emily had said,
pushing a plate of chocolate chip cookies toward Kathy the day they
met. “Better then to choose what you love.”
    “But if I follow my dreams, it will be
really difficult.” Kathy, a computer science major when she met
Emily, had always wanted to be a writer.
    “If you give up your dreams, Kathleen,
nothing else will matter very much,” Emily had said.
    When they finally got around to discussing
Emily’s choice of historical event for the term paper Kathy was to
write, she had expected Emily to choose something dramatic, like
the bombing of Hiroshima or men landing on the moon.
    Instead, Emily had talked about the
discovery of penicillin by Alexander Fleming.
    “A miracle. But not soon enough to help our
dear Bobby.” Emily’s eyes misted. “Only five when he had the
meningitis.”
    After Emily told Kathy the story of Bobby’s
illness and its aftermath—years spent caring for her invalid
son—what Kathy most wanted to know was how Emily managed to have a
happy life. Because there was no question in her mind, Emily and
her husband, Jess, were happy.
    Kathy planned to ask about that when she
took her