Bloodlines by Dinah McCall

a comfortable retirement income and a nice little bungalow in a good neighborhood, it had not buffered her from the painful sense of loss.
    Over the years, she’d learned to cope, satisfying herself with the impromptu visits Olivia occasionally made, looking forward to her own birthday, knowing that Olivia would come and take her out to dine somewhere elegant, and always enjoying the cards and letters that Olivia wrote. Just recently, she’d received at least a half-dozen postcards from both Marcus and Olivia during their trip to Europe, and she had lived vicariously through their trip from the notes and pictures. She was proud of the woman Olivia had become, but had never had aspirations of reinventing herself and moving on.
    Today was no exception. She was flat on her back with her feet propped up on the arm of the sofa watching The Price Is Right. The loose float dress she was wearing to disguise her extra weight had slipped back toward her belly, revealing white pudgy legs and deep-dimpled knees. The flip-flops she favored were dangling from her big toes. The gray roots in her dyed red hair were a good three inches long, evidence of how many beauty-shop appointments she’d missed. When she heard the doorbell chime, she frowned. Bob Barker had just called for another contestant to “come on down,” and she always loved to see the surprised reaction on the new contestant’s face. But when she heard a familiar and beloved voice calling her name through the door, she almost fell off the sofa in her haste to get up.
    â€œNanna…Nanna…it’s me, Olivia!”
    Anna flung the door open, her expression mirroring her delight and surprise.
    â€œOlivia…it’s so good to see you!” she cried, and gave Olivia a hug of welcome. “Come in, come in. If you’d warned me you were coming, I would have baked chocolate crinkles. I know they’re your favorites.”
    Olivia beamed. “Yes, they are,” she said as she let herself be engulfed in the familiar comfort of Anna’s arms.
    She’d been right in coming here, after all. Although Anna was not blood kin, she was the closest thing to a mother figure she would ever have. Anna had helped Olivia learn to braid her hair, gone with her to buy herfirst bra, and taught Olivia all she knew about what it meant to be a female. And, unlike Rose, Anna knew Olivia’s likes and dislikes, including chocolate crinkles, not lemon sorbet.
    â€œSo how have you been?” Anna asked as she closed the door and led Olivia to the sofa. “Did you and Mr. Marcus have a good time in Europe? Tell me all about it.”
    Olivia was a bit startled by the disarray of the room and Anna’s unkempt appearance, then shrugged it off. Looks didn’t matter. Anna was Anna—her Nanna, the woman who had become her touchstone to security—so she ignored the niggle of concern at the back of her mind.
    â€œEurope was great,” Olivia said. “We shot a couple dozen rolls of film, but I haven’t had them developed yet. After everything that’s been happening, they sort of slipped my mind.”
    Anna frowned. “What everything, dear? Has something happened to Marcus? Is he ill?”
    Olivia was surprised that Anna hadn’t keyed in immediately on what she meant.
    â€œNo, no, nothing like that,” she said. “I was talking about the media…you know. You must have seen the papers about that baby’s remains.”
    Anna frowned. “Baby? What baby?” Then before Olivia could answer, she added, “I have to confess, I broke my glasses a week or so ago. I can see the television just fine without them, so I haven’t bothered to get them fixed, but it’s limited my reading.”
    â€œOh, Lord,” Olivia muttered. “I wish I could be sounconcerned.” Then she turned sideways on the sofa, kicked off her shoes and folded her legs up beneath her. “I should have