The Photographer, Mary Carter [the best novels to read .TXT] 📗

The explosion of rage I felt when confronted with Lucia’s presence was unreasonable, perhaps. But I didn’t understand: Why wouldn’t Amelia and Fritz recognize my love for them and look to me for assistance instead of looking to a total stranger?

Lucia was wearing a red woolen coat that she’d clearly borrowed from someone much taller than she was, because it almost hit the ground in spite of her high-heeled boots. And she wore a thin red scarf.

“Lucia!” Amelia embraced the girl as if they were related. “Thank you for coming, sweetheart.”

Lucia timidly stepped inside the house, her nose and cheeks pink from the cold. She removed her boots and left them at the door while Amelia hung her coat. Without a coat on, it was obvious how pregnant Lucia was. Amelia led her to the library and offered everyone a glass of water. Fritz left the room and returned with a bottle of IPA for himself.

I sat next to Lucia on one of the sofas, resentment rising up into my throat. Fritz and Amelia sat on the opposite sofa, and Natalie perched on the arm next to her father. My breath was shallow and restricted, like I might hyperventilate. I needed to calm my nerves. I needed to think clearly.

“You have a beautiful home,” Lucia said. She adjusted her body so that she could lean her lower back against the throw pillows on the sofa.

“Thank you,” Amelia and Fritz said in unison.

Natalie made no attempt to hide the fact that she was staring at Lucia. Natalie’s eyes moved to Lucia’s face, probably assessing her purple eye shadow, then dropped down to her hands and her fingernails and her floral nail art.

“I recognize how important it is for you to know and understand the family who will adopt the child,” Amelia said. “You need to feel a hundred percent confident in your decision. We all need to feel that way.”

I focused on slow and sustained breathing, low into my core.

Fritz interjected. “So what are you looking for here?”

I detected a hint of hostility in his voice, and it seemed Lucia did too.

“Um…” Lucia hesitated.

A hard glint flashed in Amelia’s eyes. “What Fritz means,” she said, “and what we all know, is that you want to find—”

Fritz interrupted. “Let Lucia answer.”

“I can’t support the baby,” she said. “I can barely support myself.” She looked down at her fingernails self-consciously. Perhaps she’d noticed Natalie studying them. She examined her thumbnail closely, as if dissatisfied with that one in particular. Lucia had all of the power in this situation, but didn’t appear to recognize her leverage.

“Where’s the father?” Fritz asked. I was glad that subject was on the table, because it went straight to the question of character.

Amelia leaned over the marble coffee table and handed Lucia a platter of strawberries and grapes.

Lucia took the platter and held it in her lap, though it was a serving tray and not intended for her to keep. “I don’t speak to him.” Her face flushed slightly.

Fritz adjusted his glasses on his nose. “Were you in a relationship with him?”

“It depends on what you say a relationship is.” Lucia attempted a laugh.

“Did you live together?” Fritz sipped his IPA, then set the bottle on the coffee table in front of him.

“For a little while.” Lucia gripped the sides of the fruit platter.

“If he came back?”

Lucia looked down and realized that she was still holding the platter. She put a grape in her mouth and then placed the fruit tray on the coffee table. “He won’t.”

“But if he did, would you change your mind?”

She bit her lip and shook her head.

I could tell that Lucia wasn’t accustomed to lying. It didn’t come easily to her. Good liars propel their brains and their bodies toward their story with momentum, and they stick the landing. A moment’s hesitation will kill you.

Fritz squinted. He didn’t believe Lucia. Granted, he was asking about an unlikely scenario, but still it was obvious to him and to me that she would definitely change her mind if her boyfriend returned.

“It’s wonderful that you’re so close to your mother.” Amelia pushed her hair behind her ears. “Just terrific.” Amelia’s desperation hung in the air. “You know what I didn’t mention is that you and Natalie have something in common. You both really like to draw!”

“Wow,” Lucia said. As soon as she addressed Natalie, she became far more relaxed. “That’s cool. What do you draw?” Lucia rested one hand on her lower abdomen. I wondered if the baby was kicking.

“Unicorns mostly.” Natalie spoke in a barely audible whisper.

“I love unicorns,” Lucia said with apparent sincerity.

Natalie smiled with half of her mouth.

“You two have a lot in common!” Amelia cried. She was trying to fill the room with enough merriment to distract from her daughter’s unfriendly tone.

Natalie made eye contact with Lucia. “What are your religious beliefs?”

A tingling sensation traveled down my limbs. This line of discussion was the best chance I had.

Amelia’s body jerked in Natalie’s general direction. Her hand reached toward Natalie’s face as if she might be able to stop the words coming out of her daughter’s mouth.

Lucia placed both hands on her abdomen. “I’m Catholic.”

“We’re Jewish.” Natalie projected her voice through the room like a stage actor.

“OK,” Lucia said.

“Do you go to church?” Natalie asked.

“Sometimes.” Lucia scratched her arm and then her shoulder, like she had more than one bug bite.

“We don’t go to synagogue. Dad’s a lapsed Jew.” Natalie spoke as if she were describing the weather on a particularly lovely day. “Mom’s agnostic.”

When I saw the color drain from Amelia’s face, I had a pang of guilt, but the guilt didn’t last long. For the most part, I felt relief and pride in the role I’d played helping Natalie to find her voice. Wasn’t she just speaking her truth?

“OK.” Lucia crossed her legs, a stab at modesty, perhaps, but a considerable effort for a pregnant woman.

Fritz appeared pleased by the exchange. Was he thinking of me? Of