By Belva Plain
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Extra info for After the Fire
I should think the answer is obvious. " "Well, I'll feel it. " "There's no comparison. " "Then make this a loan. " He smiled. " She smiled back. "All of a sudden, I'm feeling normal again, now that I know this has only been about money. " He laughed. "You're crazy. " Then seriously: "This whole business may not be as easy as you seem to think it will be. " "That was months ago! " There was another silence until Gerald broke it again. "Well, ask then. " Often that spring, Hyacinth thought how on some far day she would look back on this time as old people do, as Granny did, endlessly reminiscing about that season of hopes fulfilled, when everything-kisses, tears, champagne, good wishes, white dresses, and flowered hats- all come into bloom.
Eight goblets, water and wine for goodness' sake! " Hy blurted. And an instant later, aware of her own brusque tone, she blurted again, "Sorry. " "Not tired. Worried," Francine said gently. "I'm not at all worried. " She was not going to open any space for the discussion that her mother probably wanted. "I don't know why you should or should not be worried, Hyacinth. That's for you to tell me if you want to. " Part of her wanted to cry out: "I'm afraid. I wish somebody-you or somebody-would tell me what to do.
You should think of making something for the new baby, too-an heirloom from Aunt Hyacinth. " "No, of course not. You have golden hands, Hy. " No, you could never imagine Francine sitting still over any painstaking work, or spending hours in a kitchen, either. She liked being out of the house, working for charities and good causes, of which she was often the organizer; or else she was competing in a sport like tennis or golf, at which she was often the winner. Francine had to win things. She had to run things and lead people.