Daughter's Keeper by Ayelet Waldman Page A

Olivia had always sat right next to him, listening rapt to his descriptions and asking questions about the places they’d gone and the people they’d seen. He had occasionally considered asking Elaine if they could take Olivia along with them on one of their trips but had always thought better of it. He enjoyed their vacations too much to risk poisoning one with the strain of Olivia’s presence.
    â€œThat’ll be so cool,” Olivia said. “If I ever have the money to travel again, I’ll have to get myself a digital camera.”
    â€œYou should,” Arthur said. Olivia had come over one evening not long after she had returned from Mexico and before Jorge had arrived in Oakland. She had brought the rolls of slides she had taken during her trip, and together she and Arthur had loaded them into both carousels of his slide projector. Elaine had, as usual, found something pressing to do that precluded sitting through the slide show, and Arthur and Olivia had watched them alone. Olivia wasn’t a bad photographer. Her portraits of Indian women were particularly moving, and Arthur had complimented her on her skill with the camera. She’d obviously remembered what he’d taught her about shooting portraits with the smallest possible aperture.
    They didn’t speak of Jorge once during the evening. Neither Arthur nor Elaine asked where he was. Elaine was surely avoiding the subject on purpose, but it simply never occurred to Arthur to wonder. They ate their dinner out on the back deck, under the shade of the fig tree. Every once in a while, when the breeze blew from the east, they could smell the jasmine growing up the side of the house. After they finished their meal, Arthur took a brown paper bag and filled it with tomatoes and green beans for Olivia. She took it and kissed him and her mother good-bye. They watched her walk slowly down the street to her car.
    Elaine bustled into the kitchen and began loading the dishwasher and wiping down the counters. Arthur put the tea kettle on to boil and leaned against the counter.
    â€œWhat was that about?” he said.
    â€œWhat? Her visit? I haven’t the faintest idea. Well, except that she announced that she might marry Jorge.”
    â€œAre you serious?”
    â€œYes, but she wasn’t.” Elaine wrung out the sponge and put it in the microwave. “I’m sure she just said it to drive me crazy. I mean, really. Marriage? To him? Not even Olivia would be so stupid.” She pushed a few buttons, turning on the microwave. Then she wiped her hands dry on a dish towel and hung it over the bar on the oven door. “Would she, Arthur? Would Olivia be that stupid?”
    Arthur was torn between his desire to comfort her and the knowledge that Olivia was one of those people who would do almost anything to prove a point. He would not have put it past her to marry the boy out of some deadly combination of political conviction and spite. Those seemed to be the blend that fueled her particular engine. “I don’t know, babe,” he said.
    â€œOh, God,” Elaine moaned, resting her head in her hands.
    He reached out his arm and squeezed her to him. “Don’t worry. I’m sure she was just trying to get a rise out of you, in typical fashion. I wouldn’t take it seriously.”
    Elaine leaned her head against his chest. “God, that girl.”
    â€œWhy do you think she came by? When’s the last time she showed up for dinner, unannounced?”
    Elaine shook her head. “I don’t know. A long time ago.”
    â€œMmm,” Arthur said, stroking Elaine’s hair with his palm. She twitched a bit. “I know, I know. I’m messing up your hair.”
    â€œNo, no. It doesn’t matter.”
    But he could tell that it did. He stroked her cheek, instead. “I think I know something that will make you forget all about Olivia and her problems.”
    â€œWhat?” Elaine