Robin embraced both of us, and I heard her whisper to Hy, “Thank God I’ve finally got a normal brother-even if you are kind of removed.” Then she turned, frowning, to Darcy, who seemed to have shaved his head for the occasion. He hung back on the doorstep, arms folded across his loose black tee, which was emblazoned in red with the word “Roog.” Whatever that was.
“Well?” Robin said.
“Uh, hi, Sharon,” he mumbled. “Congratulations.”
Robin made a clicking sound with her tongue. Although fiercely protective of her emotionally damaged brother, she often ran out of patience.
I said, “Thanks, Darce.”
He nodded stiffly, his one long silver earring bobbing. In addition to shaving off the hair that had been purple the last time I’d seen him, he’d also removed all of his facial jewelry except for a small stud in his nose. An effort to appear normal to my family, or merely a change of fashion?
Hy stepped forward and I introduced them.
“Darcy,” Hy said, “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you. Come with me. You look like you could use a beer.”
As they walked away, Robin said, “And he
“Robin, dear-” Saskia began, but then her gaze was drawn away from her to the archway to the living room.
Ma stood there, her rigid social smile frozen on her lips. She held herself very erect, her blonde head at an angle that would have seemed haughty had her eyes not been so afraid. I started toward her, but Saskia- recognizing Ma from pictures I’d shown her-moved around me, reaching her in two strides and clasping both her hands.
“Kay,” she said, “I’m so glad to meet you. You’ve raised such a lovely daughter.”
Ma’s cheeks went pink, and her eyes showed relief. Her fears, I realized, were not of Saskia’s learning or professional stature, but that she would make a claim on me other than the one that had already been established. But by her words my birth mother-wise woman-had made it clear that she had no such intention. For a moment Ma seemed at an unaccustomed loss for words; then the social smile was replaced by a genuine one and she regained her poise.
“Thank you, Saskia,” she said. “I think
“I understand perfectly. Robin has a very nice young man, but apparently she prefers studying the law to him.” My half sister was transferring from law school at the University of Idaho to Berkeley this fall; she’d be going straight from San Diego to her new apartment there.
Ma said, “Maybe when Robin does decide to get married she’ll have a proper wedding, rather than running off to Nevada like Sharon.”
Robin elbowed me in the ribs and whispered, “The two of them in cahoots is not a pretty sight.”
Saskia smiled tolerantly at both of us and introduced Ma to Robin. Then they linked arms and went off into the crowd, leaving us in the foyer.
An hour later Ma found Hy and me in the gazebo-he had left Darcy behind it with Matt, and denied knowledge of any controlled substances being used there-and told us it was time to cut the cake. I squared my shoulders and followed her to the dining room, glad to dispatch what must surely be the last of my bridely duties. Just what I needed to round out my day-a sickly sweet white confection with the consistency of cardboard. I only hoped it wouldn’t be topped by a miniature bride and groom.
When we entered the room, a woman in a white pastry chef’s coat was carefully placing a red rose on the top tier of an enormous cake covered in the the richest-looking chocolate I’d ever laid eyes on. She turned, motioned to it with a flourish, and I recognized my youngest sister, Patsy.
“What are you doing here?” I demanded. “You told me you couldn’t take time to attend the reception.” Patsy and her husband, Evans Newhouse, ran three restaurants, and the newest one, in the wine country town of Sonoma, had proved problematical and time-consuming.
“It was the God’s truth,” she said. “I couldn’t take time because I was back there”-she motioned toward the kitchen-“creating this damn thing. You don’t serve store-bought wedding cake when you’ve got a master chef in the family.”
At close to midnight, Hy and I had finished unwrapping our three gifts from John and his boys, Charlene and Vic, and Patsy and Evans. Identical baskets full of exotic bath toys from LuvYou.com sat plundered and pillaged on the floor of RKI’s condo.
“Makes you wonder if they sit around speculating about our sex life,” Hy said, contemplating a package of organic body paints.
“It makes me wonder about
“Three sets.” Hy looked thoughtful.
“One for the ranch, one for San Francisco, one for Touchstone. No riding up and down the highways for these babies. Good thing, too. What if we got in an accident?”
“Yes. As your mother would say, what on earth would the highway patrol think?”
“Not mother-mother
“And what would those mothers think about us experimenting with this stuff?” He winked and motioned toward the bathroom, where there was a Jacuzzi tub.
But before we could try out the new toys, real life intruded: Mark Aldin called to tell me that Jennifer had gone missing.
Monday
I left the Cessna in its place in the tiedowns at Oakland’s North Field and walked to where I’d parked my MG, lugging my travel bag and a cardboard carton filled with Laurel Greenwood’s few surviving possessions. From there I drove directly to Atherton, where Mark Aldin was waiting at home for me. Alicia, the maid, took me to the same room where I’d spoken with Jennifer and Mark last week, and he joined me a few minutes later. Red-eyed and unshaven, dressed in a rumpled shirt and chinos that looked as if he’d slept in them-if he’d slept at all-he was clearly distraught.
“Any word from Jennifer?” I asked.
“Nothing.”
“Let’s go over what you told me on the phone last night.” I sat down on one of the sofas, but he remained standing, pacing in a continuous, jerky motion in front of the French doors.
“She left around noon. Said she was meeting Rae at SFMOMA, and that she thought it would do her good to get out of the house. I didn’t want her to go; she’d slept very badly the night before, and I wasn’t sure she should be driving in her condition, but she insisted. When she didn’t come back by eight, I tried to reach Rae at home, but only got the machine there, and neither she nor Rick answered their cellulars. By the time Rae returned my call, it was after ten. She said they’d been in Carmel for the weekend, and that she hadn’t heard from Jen since Friday. Then I started calling around to Jen’s other friends, thinking I’d misunderstood who she said she was meeting. None of them had talked with her in weeks.”
“And Terry hadn’t heard from her either.”
“Not since yesterday afternoon, around three. Jen called her from her cellular, complained that we hadn’t had a report from you and that you must be having difficulty with the investigation. You’d emphasized to her that it might
