Now, even though she did use streaks, Rosemary always thought of her hair as “muddy brown.”
Jack collected his long kiss and then released her. “Don’t kill me,” he said, “but I was hoping to sneak in eighteen holes at the club before the party.”
“I guessed that. Good for you!” Rosemary said.
“You don’t mind if I abandon you? I know there’s no chance of you joining.”
They both laughed. He knew all too well that she would be fussing around over details all day.
Rosemary reached for the coffeepot. “Join me for another cup.”
“Sure.” He glanced out the window. “I’m glad the weather is so good. I hate it when Susan drives through rainstorms to get here, but the weather prediction is good for the weekend.”
“And I don’t like that she’s going to be going back early tomorrow morning,” Rosemary said.
“I know. But she’s a good driver and young enough that the round trip won’t be a problem. Though remind me to talk to her about trading in that car of hers. It’s two years old, and already we’ve had too many visits to the garage.” Jack took a final few sips of the coffee. “Okay, I’m on my way. I should be home around four.” With a quick kiss on Rosemary’s forehead, he was out the door.
At three o’clock, beaming with self-satisfaction, Rosemary stepped back from the kitchen table. Jack’s birthday cake was perfect, not a crumb astray when she flipped it over and lifted the pan. The chocolate icing, her own recipe, was relatively smooth, with the words HAPPY 60TH BIRTHDAY, JACK, written carefully, word for word.
Everything is ready, she thought. Now, why can’t I relax?
3
Forty-five minutes later, just as Rosemary was expecting Jack to walk in the door, the phone rang. It was Susan.
“Mom, I had to work up the courage to tell you. I can’t get home tonight.”
“Oh, Susan, Dad will be so disappointed!”
Susan’s voice, young and eager, almost breathless, said, “I didn’t call before because I didn’t know for sure. Mom, Frank Parker is going to meet me tonight, about maybe being cast in his new movie.” Her voice calmed a little. “Mom, remember when I was in Home Before Dark, just before Christmas?”
“How could I forget?” Rosemary and Jack had flown to Los Angeles to watch the campus play from the third row. “You were wonderful.”
Susan laughed. “But you’re my mother. Why wouldn’t you say that? Anyhow, remember the casting agent, Edwin Lange, who said he’d sign me?”
“Yes, and you never heard from him again.”
“But I did. He said Frank Parker saw my audition tape. Edwin taped the performance and showed it to Frank Parker. He said that Parker was blown away and is considering me for the lead in a movie he’s casting. It’s a movie set on a campus and he wants to find college students to be in it. He wants me to meet him. Mom, can you believe it? I don’t want to jinx myself, but I feel so lucky. It’s like it’s too good to be true. Can you believe that I might get a role, maybe even the lead role?”
“Calm down before you have a heart attack,” Rosemary cautioned, “and then you won’t get any role.” Rosemary smiled and pictured her daughter, energy exuding from every bone in her body, twisting her fingers through her long blond hair, those wonderful blue eyes shining.
The semester’s almost over, she thought. If she did get a part in this movie, it would be a great experience. “Dad will certainly understand, Susan, but be sure to call him back.”
“I’ll try, but, Mom, I’m meeting Edwin in five minutes to go over the tape with him and rehearse, because he says Frank Parker will want me to read for him. I don’t know how late it will be. You’ll be having the party, and you’ll never hear the phone. Why don’t I call Dad in the morning?”
“That might not be a bad idea. The party is from six to ten, but most people linger on.”
“Give him a birthday kiss for me.”
“I will. Knock that director off his feet.”
“I’ll try.”
“Love you, sweetheart.”
“Love you, Mom.”
Rosemary had never become used to the sudden silence that followed when a cell phone disconnected.
When the phone rang the next morning, Jack popped up from reading the newspaper. “There’s our girl, bright and early by a college student’s standards for a Sunday.”
But the caller wasn’t Susan. It was the Los Angeles Police Department. They had difficult news. A young woman had been found just before dawn in Laurel Canyon Park. She appeared to have been strangled. They didn’t want to alarm them unnecessarily, but their daughter’s driver’s license had been retrieved from a purse found fifteen yards from the body. A mobile phone was clutched in her hand and the last number dialed was theirs.
4
Laurie Moran paused on her way to her office at 15 Rockefeller Center to admire the ocean of gold and red tulips blooming in the Channel Gardens. Named after the English Channel because they separated the French and British Empire Buildings, these gardens were always brimming with something lush and cheerful. Tulips were no match for the plaza’s Christmas tree, but the discovery of new plantings every few weeks in spring always made it easier for Laurie to say good-bye to her favorite season in the city. While other New Yorkers complained about the throngs of holiday tourists, Laurie found cheer in the brisk air and festive decorations.
Outside the Lego store, a father was photographing his son next to the giant Lego dinosaur. Her own son, Timmy, always had to loop through the store to inspect the latest creations when he visited her at work.
“How long do you think it took them to make this, Dad? How many pieces do you think there are?” The boy looked up at his father with a certainty that he had all the answers in the world. Laurie felt a pang of sadness, remembering the way Timmy used to gaze at Greg with the same anticipatory awe. The father noticed her watching, and she turned away.
“Excuse me, miss, but would you mind taking our picture?”
Thirty-seven years old, Laurie had learned long ago that she came across as friendly and approachable. Slender, with honey-colored hair and clear hazel eyes, she was typically described as “good-looking” and “classy.” She wore her hair in a simple shoulder-length bob and rarely bothered with makeup. She was attractive but unthreatening. She was the type of woman people stopped for directions or, as in this case, amateur photography.
“Of course I don’t mind,” she said.
The man handed her his phone. “These gadgets are great, but all our family pictures are from an arm’s length away. It would nice to have something to show besides a bunch of selfies.” He pulled his son in front of him as she stepped back to get the entire dinosaur in view.
“Say cheese,” she urged.
They complied, flashing big, toothy smiles. Father and son, Laurie thought wistfully.
The father thanked Laurie as she returned his phone. “We didn’t expect New Yorkers to be so nice.”
“I promise, most of us are pretty nice,” Laurie assured him. “Ask New Yorkers for directions and nine out of ten will take the time.”
Laurie smiled, thinking of the day when she was crossing Rockefeller Center with Donna Hanover, the former first lady of New York City. A tourist had touched Donna’s arm and asked if she knew her way around New York. Donna had turned and pointed and explained. “You’re just a couple of blocks from…” Smiling at the memory, Laurie crossed the street and entered the Fisher Blake Studios offices. She got off the elevator on the twenty-fifth floor and hurried to her office.
Grace Garcia and Jerry Klein were already busy at their cubicles. When Grace saw Laurie, she sprang up from her seat first.