Free Daughter's Keeper by Ayelet Waldman Page B

deeply, willing her stomach to cease its anguished roiling. Finally, when she was able, she stood up and walked into the ­bathroom. She stripped off her clothes and stood under the hot shower until her breasts and belly were seared bright red.
    She crawled into bed, pulled the thick comforter over her head, and buried her face in the soft pillow. Within moments she fell deeply asleep. She didn’t hear Jorge come in hours later and didn’t even shift in the bed when he lay down next to her. The next morning he was gone again. She took another message for him, writing out the details Gabriel gave her. Where. When. She did her best to put out of her mind what it was that her boyfriend was doing—how he was earning the money he imagined he needed to support her.
    Olivia wished she had somewhere to go, something to do, but it was her day off. She cleaned the apartment, more because she needed to keep busy than because it was dirty. She was down on her knees, scrubbing at brown rust stains under the lip of the ­toilet, when she heard a faint moaning. Her bathroom window faced the alley leading toward the street, or she never would have heard the noise. Olivia opened the smoked glass window, jerked at the warped sash. She stuck her head out of the window and saw an elderly woman backed up against the rear of the apartment building. Her arms were spread wide and her fingers were scrabbling at the clapboard. A small black dog stood on its hind legs, its front paws leaving muddy prints on the woman’s faded housedress.
    â€œDon’t be afraid! I’ll be right there!” Olivia shouted.
    She ran through her apartment and out the front door. By the time Olivia reached her, the woman had begun to slide down the side of the building, her breath coming in shallow gasps and her eyes wild with fear. It was the rottweiler puppy. Olivia scooped up the dog just as it began licking at the old woman’s face. She held the dog in one arm and gripped the woman around the waist with her other. She tried to lift her to her feet, but quickly realized that she wasn’t strong enough to do that one-handed. Instead, she lowered her gently to the ground until the woman sat propped up against the wall, her legs stuck out straight ahead of her like the ribs of a broken umbrella.
    â€œAre you okay?” Olivia asked.
    The woman didn’t answer. The dog gave a sudden wriggle, and Olivia looked down at it. He barked happily, and she scratched his ears. Then she stormed across the alley and pounded on the door of the apartment where his owner lived. When no one answered, she knocked even harder. The door finally opened, and the young man who she had seen walking the dog peered out, his hair standing up on his head in wiry spikes.
    â€œWassup?” he said, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.
    â€œYour dog nearly killed someone, that’s ‘wassup’!” Olivia shoved the puppy into the man’s arms.
    â€œHe just a puppy, he can’t kill no one.”
    â€œYeah? Well he nearly scared that woman to death.” Olivia waved in the direction of the old woman. The man’s defensive grimace disappeared, and his face sagged.
    â€œShe all right?” He began to walk toward the woman but stopped at Olivia’s warning hand.
    â€œLeave her alone. I’ll take care of it. You just keep your dog inside where he belongs.” She spun on her heel and ran back to the woman who had, by now, begun to breath more normally. “Are you all right? Do you need me to take you to the doctor? Should I call an ambulance for you?” Olivia helped her to her feet. Gnarled blue veins buckled the ashy white skin of the woman’s twig-like legs, and her hand was a dry claw in Olivia’s.
    â€œShould I call 9-1-1?” Olivia asked.
    â€œNo, no,” the woman muttered in a vaguely European accent. “I’m fine. Fine. I am only afraid of dogs. Nothing ­happened. Only I am so stupid.