"
"I see." She laughed. "I am Francesca Malloy. This is Maria. And here
is Elena." She held an arm out to Elena who was pleased with her
conquest of the bathroom. "Elena, this is Oliver. We are sharing a
table, today." Elena stared at him.
"I'm almost as big as you," she said.
Maria leaned toward her. "Stupid--you're supposed to say: 'How do you
do.' "
"How do you do, Elena," Oliver said. "You _are_ a big girl. Strong too,
I bet."
"Very," she said.
"You have such pretty girls," Oliver said to Francesca.
"I am from Ecuador," Maria said. "Elena is from Colombia." She gave the
names their Spanish sounds. Oliver wanted to put his arms around her
and keep her from harm forever. "We have two mommies." She
concentrated. "We _each_ have two mommies. We are sisters, now."
"Lucky girls," Oliver said.
"Where's _your_ mommy?"
"Connecticut," Oliver said. "Far away."
"Oh." Maria nodded sympathetically. One corner of Francesca's wide
mouth curved up; the other curved down. Her eyebrows were raised.
"Lucky everybody," Oliver said, including himself. He felt the rings of
calm again, rippling outward from their table.
"Something to drink?" One of the regular waitresses laid down menus.
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