A Promise to Remember Read Free

refrigerator. "Really? Why would he say that?"
Her voice came out too high, but Christi wouldn't acknowledge it. Christi hated dealing with heavy issues, and that suited Andie
just fine. She wanted time alone with her pain.

    "She works there. You know. The Johnston kid's mom. Scott's
afraid she might look for some quick money."
    Andie thought about the woman in question-saw her face.
Attractive in an earthy way, no makeup, brown curly hair that just
reached her shoulders. Her easy answers and quick smile, the
cheerful way she stopped what she was doing to help customers find the sugar aisle. "I don't think she's the type." Melanie
Johnston's eyes were the only thing that made her doubt her
words. They sometimes narrowed with the grim determination
of a woman used to a fight. A woman who would not back down
if she thought she was right.
    "Never know. Scott says don't go anywhere near her until this
whole thing blows over."
    Andie put her hand across her stomach. "Blows over?" She
turned away from her friend, then began to forcefully unload
another hag into the refrigerator. "How long does it take for the
death of your child to `blow over'?"
    "Oh, Andie. Didn't mean it that way. You know I didn't. But
you have to understand. Say the wrong word to the wrong person, and you find yourself in court."
    "Yeah. Thanks for the advice." She knew her tone belied the
polite words. Good. Maybe Christi would get the message. Not
that she ever did.
    Christi picked up a loaf of bread. "I'll help." She walked into
the pantry. Seconds later, she emerged, shaking her head, bread
still in hand. She tossed the loaf on the counter and rummaged
through the cabinet under the sink, where she emerged with a
bottle of 409 and a sponge.
    Andie took a few silent steps to watch her.
    Christi emptied three full shelves. There were scattered
crumbs and a round sticky spot where Andie knew syrup had hardened into a sugary mess. This Christi targeted first, then
scrubbed the shelves before putting things back. Though not
necessarily in their original location. When she turned around
and saw Andie watching, her eyes opened a bit wider. "Didn't
know you were back there."

    "So I gathered."
    Christi extended her upturned hand as though she were a
Price is Right model, demonstrating a new appliance. "Isn't
it amazing how much having a clean, organized kitchen can
brighten your mood?" She raked her hand across the top shelf.
"See, all the cereals together, the bread products, the cooking
supplies. Better, hmm?"
    Andie looked at the shelves. They did look better. But why
did it matter? "Yes, of course." She turned and walked out of
the pantry.
    Christi followed. The silence grew awkward, and Christi kept
looking out the window toward her car. She jingled the keys
in her purse. "Want to go for a ride? I promise I'll drive like a
grandmother so I won't scare you."
    Andie shook her head, ready to be alone. "No thanks, but
you go ahead. You shouldn't be cooped up inside on a beautiful
day like this."
    Although Christi's face remained fixed, a brief spark in her
eyes gave away her relief. "Sure you're okay? Anything I can do
for you?"
    Leave me and nil, dirty shelves in peace. "No, I'm fine."
    Christi nodded. "Okay, then. Expect to see you back at tennis next week."
    "Maybe."
    Andie walked Christi to the back door. Just outside, Christi
turned. "Remember, stay away from Alfords for a while." She
removed keys from her Prada bag. "Shame our world has come
to this."

    Andie's eyes puddled in spite of defensive blinking. Hold it
in so she can leave.
    Christi looked at her car, then back again. "Need to be going."
She beat a hasty retreat to her convertible, where she revved
her engine and threw up a parting hand as she escaped down
the driveway.

    The Lexus glided to a stop in front of Melanie's house. The
driver emerged, surveyed the neighborhood-one- and twostory homes, tidyyards, cars spilling out of the driveways. Probably