later, Oliver was waiting for a seat in Becky's, standing
by the door, when Francesca came in with her two girls. Oliver looked
at her and all doubt left him. It was as if they had arranged to meet.
"Hi," he said.

"Hi." She was tanned, wearing a large white "Harbor Fish" T-shirt over
dark brown cotton pants.

"Mommy, I have to go to the bathroom."

"It's right over there, Elena--the first door." Francesca pointed and
put her free hand on the other girl's head. "Stay with me, Maria."

"Takes two hands--motherhood," Oliver said.

"Two aren't enough, really." Her voice was low and easy. An elderly
couple passed them on their way out. Oliver waved at their table which
was being cleared.

"Why don't you take it?"

"It's crowded, today. Thank you," Francesca said. "Why don't we share?"

"Sure," Oliver said. "Is anyone joining you?"

Francesca tipped her head to one side and ran fingers through her hair.
She looked at Oliver and shook her head deliberately. There were no
words, or too many, to explain. "My lucky day," Oliver said. She
smiled--tribute was tribute, even in Becky's at rush hour. Maria tugged
at her hand.

"I'm hungry."

"Let's eat, then," Francesca said, moving toward the table. When she
reached the booth, she said, "Mr. . . . is going to eat with us."

"Oliver."

"Mr. Oliver."

"No. Oliver Prescott is my name. Oliver Muni Prescott. But--Oliver,
please."

"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