rd to keep warm in the winter, but, AhnRee pointed out with a
shrug, "If one is in San Miguel d'Allende . . . "

"Mexico, right?" Willow asked Amber.

"Right. I guess he goes there every winter." Amber had spent her time
meeting people and going to parties. She already had one guy chasing
her, showing up unannounced and hanging around. Willow usually excused
herself and read on her bed. An outside door led to the porch; the door
was solid and blocked most of the noise from inside the house. When she
wasn't reading, she took walks and rode her bike into town for
groceries. She was learning to cook. You would have killed a robin if
you hit it with her first loaf of seven grain bread, but she was
getting the hang of it. She had developed a wicked lasagna. Mornings
after, the lasagna pan was as empty as the Chianti bottle or bottles.

On this particular evening, she threw a salad together--avocado, feta
cheese, a few scallions, red leaf lettuce, lemon juice, and a yummy
Portuguese olive oil that Ann-in-the-deli had recommended. Ann was
middle aged with a red face and a bad leg. She sat behind the cash
register, talking loudly with customers, denouncing the government and
its stupid war. She liked young people and extended credit when they
were short of money. She had a metal box with 3X5 cards in it,
alphabetized by name. Willow watched her accept payments and cross out
numbers at the bottom of little columns while customers waited proudly
with bags containing six-packs, cigarettes, potato chips, and quarts of
milk. If someone was charging, he (usually a he) would mumble thanks
and pick his way out guiltily while Ann added another number to his
column.

"I've got to get a job soon," Willow said, taking another bite of
salad.

"What for?" Amber's father made a deposit every month to her account.
While you're in school, he told her.

"I want to. I mean, I don't want to keep living on your money."

"It's not my money. I didn't earn it."

"Yeah, but . . . " They had taken a bus to Sacramento and caught a
train east, the day after finals. The idea swept them off their feet.
They were just now, a month later, realizing that they were actually
somewhere else. After a day of walking around the Village in New York,
they took a bus to Woodstock. They got out in front of the News Shop,
and here they were. Their parents weren't thrilled, but Amber convinced
her father on the phone that she was having a good time and was in
co