Christina's Ghost by Betty Ren Wright Page A

of gingersnaps between them. Uncle Ralph looked at Chris and raised his eyebrows. She shook her head, and he leaned back with a satisfied nod.
    â€œRalph tells me you’re welcome to stay on here if you wish, Christina.” Aunt Grace watched her suspiciously. “I plan to run out to the farm every day for a while to see how your grandmother’s doing, so I suppose you don’t have to come back with us today to help. It’s up to you.”
    Chris thought about what it would be like at the farm. She could talk for hours with Grandma and play games with Jenny. She could go exploring with Maggie the sheepdog and fish in the stream. The long, lonely days would be ended.
    Uncle Ralph smiled at her. “And besides all that,” he said, reading her mind once again, “you wouldn’t have to eat canned hash and canned chili every day.”
    Chris felt her face turn red. “I don’t care about that,” she said fiercely. “I like being with you, Uncle Ralph.”
    They stared at each other, and Chris smiled, too. The words had astonished them both.
    â€œBut I guess I’ll go to Grandma’s,” she said. “There’s stuff I can do.”
    Uncle Ralph nodded. “Don’t blame you a bit,” he said. “I’ll miss you, but I have my work and I want to stick with it. You and I are two of a kind, sport—independent as they come.”
    Jenny leaned across the table, eager to be part of the conversation. “Chris is a tomboy,” she protested. “She always gets into trouble. You don’t like tomboys.”
    â€œTimes change,” Uncle Ralph said. He helped himself to another gingersnap. “So do uncles.” He winked at Chris, who winked back.