Read Heaven Is High for Free Online Page B

for a visit Sunday, if you’re home and free.”
    â€œI’ll be both home and free,” he said. “And I’ll make you some dinner.”
    â€œYum,” she said. “Sounds good. Can I bring anything, good bread, wine?”
    He said she could pick up a loaf of French bread, nothing else, and that was that, she thought when they hung up.
    *   *   *
    In his house overlooking the McKenzie River, Frank regarded the phone thoughtfully. Was she trying to face down demons? Deal with her pain by confronting it? An act of healing? Something else? Barbara had many facets, he knew, and many of them remained hidden, buried, not to be pried out of her. He would never attempt to unravel her mind, but it left him feeling helpless to offer anything that might ease her pain. It was too deep, too well hidden. What he could do, and did as often as she allowed, was to see to it that she got a decent meal at least once a week, and hope to go on from there. And try to avoid anything that might send her packing ever again. His biggest fear was that she would leave again, stay away for months or years. The fact that she was coming out to Turner’s Point, to his house, an event he had not invited or expected, was hopeful, he told himself. He would air out the upstairs room she had used before, but he suspected that was a meaningless gesture. He certainly would not push for that extended a visit, just hope it might happen.
    He began to consider what would be an especially fine meal in honor of her visit and, humming to himself, he went to take a duckling from the freezer. Barbara was very fond of duck with that special garlic and lime sauce he had found.
    *   *   *
    Barbara continued to sit at her desk, thinking of next steps. A letter of agreement with Binnie and Martin, making it official that she was representing them. More, she decided. A letter to the immigration service, on office stationery with the Bixby-Holloway imprint. Petty thievery seemed quite minor compared to tangling it up with two big government agencies, she thought mockingly. She would go to Frank’s office on Saturday when she was unlikely to meet anyone and lift some letterheads and envelopes.

5
    Everything was exactly as she remembered it, Barbara thought that Sunday, leaving the highway for the gravel road that led to Frank’s house and a short distance beyond. The rise of the high Cascades as backdrop. The same tall, dark fir trees, a tangle of brambles on one side, a madrone visible now and then, gleaming red where sunshine shafted in to touch it, ferns, and multicolored lichen. The smell of the river. Changeless, eternal woods here, eternal mountains, river. She shook her head, acknowledging that that was her human arrogance at work. Actually, it was all in flux, connected in a dance taking place in a time frame not visible to her limited vision. Her passage through it was like that of a meteor streaking through space.
    She pulled into Frank’s driveway and parked, picked up her purse but left her briefcase in the car. He would wonder why she was bringing a briefcase out for a family visit.
    Frank greeted her with his arms spread. “Good weather for a drive in the country,” he said, embracing her. “Good to see sunshine, have spring arrive, maybe.”
    â€œMaybe is always the right word about weather,” she said, smiling.
    She tossed a light jacket on a chair and went to the living room with him. He had moved a small table and two chairs close to the fireplace where a low fire was burning, sparing her the kitchen windows with a broad view of the McKenzie. She recognized and appreciated the gesture.
    â€œCoffee in the carafe,” Frank said. “Have you had lunch?”
    â€œYep. And breakfast. Dad, I’m not going hungry. Honestly, I don’t go hungry. But coffee would be good. How’s the book coming? I thought I might read a bit of it, if you’re