Read Online Olive Branches Don't Grow on Trees by Grace Mattioli - Free Book Online Page A

at a local diner that was inconveniently
positioned on a traffic circle.  It was a big, shiny, chrome-covered
rectangle filled with red vinyl booths and a counter that stretched almost the
entire length of the place.  They ordered garlic fries and
milkshakes.  When the waitress asked if Frank wanted anything to drink,
Silvia just glared at him, forcing him to tell the waitress that he would just
have water.  Silvia went to use the restroom. By the time she got back,
the waitress had brought their milkshakes, and Frank had nearly finished his.
    “I
hate it when it's over,” said Frank, taking the final sip of his malted shake.
    On
extremely rare occasions, Silvia felt connected to Frank, and this was one of
those rare occasions.  He was like a big, overgrown boy saddened by the
ending of a milkshake.  She even offered him some of hers because she knew
that, despite his intense craving for more, he was too cheap to buy another.
 He was simple and innocent at that moment, and his eyes turned
young.  She had trouble comprehending how this harmless, youthful creature
could coexist in the same body with the scary, old man that was Frank.  It
seemed like whenever any good tried to glimmer through, the stronger more
powerful side of his being would crush it.
    She
remembered back to the time that she got the scholarship to art school, and how
proud he was of her achievement. “You're going to be the next Botticelli!” he
told her with a smile so big that it looked almost painful.  At first she
thought his elation was due to his being off the hook of having to pay her
tuition.  But it was more than just his sense of frugality.  He
really was proud, and Silvia felt his approval shining down on her for the
first and only time in her life.  It was, however, a very short-lived
period of time, as she suspected it would be, and soon Frank was back to his
typical way of being in the world.  Silvia came home one day to find her
belongings out on the front porch, and upon going inside, she saw a note on the
table that said that she had to leave the house immediately.  Donna was
away at a conference for work, so she could not intercede, as she usually did
on her children’s behalf.  Silvia wondered what she could have done to
upset Frank, but she also knew that her wondering was probably useless because
it was almost impossible to know such a thing. What might upset him was
anybody’s guess.  Maybe he was upset that she, like all of his other
children, was not following in his footsteps and studying law or studying
something like philosophy that would prepare her for law school.  He was
as unpredictable and volatile as a volcano.  She also knew that, whatever
eruption was happening inside of him, would soon settle down, and so she
gathered her belongings on the front porch and went to a friend’s house for the
night. 
    “So
what did you think of the meeting?” she asked him.  His face turn from
remorse, for finishing both his and her shakes, to suspicion.
    “Why
are you so interested in getting me to an AA meeting all of a sudden?  Did
Mom put you up to this?” he said.
    “Oh
what the fuck Dad!  Can’t a daughter take some
interest in her father’s well-being?” she said as she gathered bits of garlic
and placed them on a fry.
    “Watch
your language.”
    “What
about you?  You curse all the time.”
    “That’s
different.  I’m old.  It doesn’t matter that I curse.”  He
looked down sadly again at his remaining couple drops of milkshake.
    “So,
you still haven’t answered my question,” she said, disregarding his warning
about the use of profanities.
    “It
was pretty much what I expected.”  His face looked jaded.  And then,
in an effort to take himself out of the discussion, he said, “Boy, that speaker
had some story, huh?”
    “Well,
how did you feel about being there?” she said, with an emphasis on the word you.
    “Alright,
I guess,” he said, like her question made no