All Dressed in White

14

As the number 6 train lurched to a stop at the 96th Street station, Laurie was replaying the conversation with Jerry in her head. He knew more about Amanda’s disappearance from five-year-old news coverage than Laurie had managed to glean during a two-hour conversation with Amanda’s own mother. That’s how well he knew the case. Yet he had refrained from pitching a show about his own cold-case obsession because of a comment she had made months ago in Los Angeles. You looked sad, he had said. I assumed-

Jerry hadn’t completed the sentence. He didn’t need to, because he had assumed correctly. Laurie’s only previous visit to the Grand Victoria had been with Greg. It was their second anniversary. New York had suffered an especially bitter winter. More than by the cold, Laurie’s mood had been affected by yet another month passing without becoming pregnant. Her doctor told her that these things didn’t always happen right away, but she and Greg had been so eager to start a family once they got married.

Sensing her worry, Greg had surprised her on a Thursday night, announcing that he had arranged to take a long weekend off from the Mount Sinai emergency room, where he was a resident. They spent four marvelous days, swimming and reading on the beach during the day, enjoying long dinners in the evening. Timmy was born nine months later.

When Greg died, I had felt so alone, Laurie thought. We had always pictured ourselves having four or five kids. She loved Timmy-he was more than enough all on his very own-but she never thought he’d be an only child.

But now, nearly six years after Greg’s death, she realized that she and Timmy had never been at risk of being alone. Her father, Leo, had retired from the NYPD to help raise her son.

And my immediate family didn’t stop there, Laurie thought. Grace could read her mind with one look. Jerry had known that she might not be ready to delve into a story about a young couple getting married at a resort where she’d once celebrated with Greg. Jerry and Grace were co-workers, but they were also family.

And then there was Alex. I don’t want to go there right now, she thought.

She walked quickly the few blocks to the apartment. As she slipped her key into the front door, she felt the stress of the busy day fade away. She was home.