Blue by Danielle Steel Page A

what he’d done. She was very disappointed that he hadn’t managed to stick with it, particularly at school. But she’d see what she could do when she went back. In the meantime, he was on his own, and would have to live by his wits, as he had before. And she knew that he knew life on the streets well.
    After that, she thanked Julio Fernandez for his efforts and said she’d be in touch when she got back. She wrote to his school and asked if they would consider it a leave of absence, and promised that Blue would catch up on the work when he returned. It was all smoke and mirrors, but it was the best she could do for now. And then she wrote to Becky and told her they had no means of communication at the camp, except radios that were used only for emergencies and weren’t long range. She kept her e-mail to her sister short, then called her on the phone from the Red Cross office. Becky answered her cell on the second ring.
    “Where the hell are you?” she asked, sounding worried.
    “In Afghanistan. You know where I am. We don’t have e-mail from the camp. This is the first time I’ve come to town since I got here, and I probably won’t come in again. What’s up with Dad?” She was terrified to hear that he had died.
    “Actually, he’s better. They’re trying a new medication, and it seems to work. He’s a little clearer, in the mornings at least. He’s always a mess at night. But we’re giving him a sleeping pill now, so I’m not as worried about his getting up at night and wandering out of the house while we’re asleep.” Her fear of that had kept her awake at night for months.
    “Well, that’s a relief.” Ginny had been panicked for a minute but felt better when she heard what Becky said.
    “I wish to hell you’d come back and lead a more reasonable life. This is just too crazy, especially now with Dad. I have no way to reach you if he gets really bad, or if he dies.”
    “You have my emergency contact number at the local Red Cross. I gave it to you before I left,” she reminded her. “If it’s an emergency, they’ll send someone to the camp to find me. Otherwise, I’ll be home in six weeks.”
    “You can’t keep doing this, Ginny. You’re thirty-six years old. You’re not some kid in the Peace Corps with no responsibilities, and I can’t make all the decisions all the time. You need to be part of this, too.”
    “I told you, I’ll come to L.A. when I get back.”
    “You’ve been saying that for almost three years.”
    Ginny didn’t tell her sister that she was a lot more useful here than she would have been in L.A. And she felt as though this was where she was meant to be for now.
    “I can’t stay on long. This is the local Red Cross phone. Give Dad a kiss from me.”
    “Take care of yourself, Gin. Do us all a favor, don’t get shot or killed.”
    “I’ll try not to. You’re a lot more likely to get shot in L.A. than I am here. It’s been peaceful at the camp.”
    “Good. I love you.”
    “I love you, too,” Ginny answered, although her sister drove her insane sometimes, and she couldn’t imagine herself leading a life like Becky’s, or even the one she’d had, ever again. That meant married, with kids, and living in Pasadena. Before, when Ginny had been married to Mark, Becky had thought their life was superficial and too glitzy. Now she thought her sister was insane. Their lives had never run parallel or been the same, or even remotely similar, and Becky had never approved of what she did. Knowing that took some of the sting out of what she said. But in Ginny’s mind, Becky was always the disapproving older sister, and had been since they were children.
    After she made the call, Ginny printed out the incoming messages for Rupert, and went to find the others, finishing lunch at a restaurant nearby. The food looked and smelled awful, and she was glad she had skipped lunch to do her e-mails instead from the Red Cross office.
    “What did you guys have? The typhoid