Queen Street. Unless you need me for anything.”
“No, honey. I’m fine.”
“You’re sure? ’Cause I can stay if you want.”
“No, sweetheart. You go. I’ll be fine.”
“You’ll call me as soon as Julia gets home?”
Cindy nodded, looked anxiously toward the front door.
“You know my cell number?”
“Of course.” Cindy pictured a series of numbers, realized they were Julia’s. “Maybe you’d better write it down.”
Heather walked into the kitchen. “I’m leaving it by the phone,” she called back as Duncan came barreling down the stairs.
“Julia home?” he asked.
“Not yet.”
He stared blankly at Neil, crossed one arm protectively over the other. “Are you a cop?”
Cindy blanched. Why would he ask that?
“He’s an accountant,” Heather said, reentering the room. “We should go.” She guided Duncan toward the front door. “Remember to call me when Julia gets home.”
Cindy nodded, watching them leave. “Do you think I should call the police?”
“If you’re worried, yes,” Neil said.
“It’s only been twenty-four hours.”
“That’s long enough.”
She thought of Tom. Probably she should wait for him to return her call, discuss the matter with him before she did anything rash. “I should probably wait a little longer.”
“Have you checked with the place where Julia had her audition, to make sure she showed up?”
“I don’t know who to contact,” Cindy admitted. “I mean, I know the audition was for Michael Kinsolving, but he’s probably just renting some space, and I don’t know the address or the phone number.” I don’t know anything, she wailed silently. What kind of mother am I, who doesn’t know anything? “Tom will know,” she said. “My ex-husband. Julia’s father. He arranged the audition. He’ll know.” All the more reason to wait until she spoketo him before calling the police, she acknowledged to herself.
Neil walked to the fireplace, lifted a Plexiglas frame from the mantel. “Is this Julia?”
Cindy stared at the picture of Julia that had been taken several days after her eighteenth birthday. She was smiling, showing a mouthful of perfect, professionally straightened and whitened teeth, elegant shoulders thrust proudly back in her new cream-colored Gucci leather jacket, a present from her father. Diamond studs sparkled from each ear, another present from Daddy. The night this picture was taken, Cindy had presented her daughter with a delicate necklace with her name spelled out in gold. Less than a month later, Julia had broken it while trying to pull a turtleneck sweater over her head.
I forgot I had it on
, she’d announced nonchalantly, returning the necklace to her mother to be fixed. Cindy dutifully had the necklace repaired, only to have Julia lose it a few weeks later. “That’s an old picture,” Cindy said now, taking the photograph from Neil’s hands and returning it to the mantel, one finger lingering, caressing her daughter’s cheek through the small square of glass.
“She’s a very beautiful girl.”
“Yes, she is.”
“Like her mother.”
The phone rang. Cindy raced to the kitchen, tripping on the large sisal rug in the front hall, banging her hip against the side of the kitchen door. “Damn it,” she swore, lifting the phone to her ear. “Hello?”
“Well, damn it yourself,” her mother replied. “What’s the matter, darling? Forgot to put on your makeup?”
Cindy raised a hand to her bare cheek, realized she hadindeed forgotten to put on any makeup. Still Neil had said she was beautiful, she thought gratefully, shaking her head as he approached, signaling the caller wasn’t Julia. “I’m fine, Mom. Just a little busy at the moment. Can I call you back?”
“You don’t have to bother. I’m just checking in. Everything all right? Your sister said you sounded pissy, and I’m afraid I have to agree with her.”
Cindy closed her eyes, ran her free hand through her hair. “Everything’s
“No, honey. I’m fine.”
“You’re sure? ’Cause I can stay if you want.”
“No, sweetheart. You go. I’ll be fine.”
“You’ll call me as soon as Julia gets home?”
Cindy nodded, looked anxiously toward the front door.
“You know my cell number?”
“Of course.” Cindy pictured a series of numbers, realized they were Julia’s. “Maybe you’d better write it down.”
Heather walked into the kitchen. “I’m leaving it by the phone,” she called back as Duncan came barreling down the stairs.
“Julia home?” he asked.
“Not yet.”
He stared blankly at Neil, crossed one arm protectively over the other. “Are you a cop?”
Cindy blanched. Why would he ask that?
“He’s an accountant,” Heather said, reentering the room. “We should go.” She guided Duncan toward the front door. “Remember to call me when Julia gets home.”
Cindy nodded, watching them leave. “Do you think I should call the police?”
“If you’re worried, yes,” Neil said.
“It’s only been twenty-four hours.”
“That’s long enough.”
She thought of Tom. Probably she should wait for him to return her call, discuss the matter with him before she did anything rash. “I should probably wait a little longer.”
“Have you checked with the place where Julia had her audition, to make sure she showed up?”
“I don’t know who to contact,” Cindy admitted. “I mean, I know the audition was for Michael Kinsolving, but he’s probably just renting some space, and I don’t know the address or the phone number.” I don’t know anything, she wailed silently. What kind of mother am I, who doesn’t know anything? “Tom will know,” she said. “My ex-husband. Julia’s father. He arranged the audition. He’ll know.” All the more reason to wait until she spoketo him before calling the police, she acknowledged to herself.
Neil walked to the fireplace, lifted a Plexiglas frame from the mantel. “Is this Julia?”
Cindy stared at the picture of Julia that had been taken several days after her eighteenth birthday. She was smiling, showing a mouthful of perfect, professionally straightened and whitened teeth, elegant shoulders thrust proudly back in her new cream-colored Gucci leather jacket, a present from her father. Diamond studs sparkled from each ear, another present from Daddy. The night this picture was taken, Cindy had presented her daughter with a delicate necklace with her name spelled out in gold. Less than a month later, Julia had broken it while trying to pull a turtleneck sweater over her head.
I forgot I had it on
, she’d announced nonchalantly, returning the necklace to her mother to be fixed. Cindy dutifully had the necklace repaired, only to have Julia lose it a few weeks later. “That’s an old picture,” Cindy said now, taking the photograph from Neil’s hands and returning it to the mantel, one finger lingering, caressing her daughter’s cheek through the small square of glass.
“She’s a very beautiful girl.”
“Yes, she is.”
“Like her mother.”
The phone rang. Cindy raced to the kitchen, tripping on the large sisal rug in the front hall, banging her hip against the side of the kitchen door. “Damn it,” she swore, lifting the phone to her ear. “Hello?”
“Well, damn it yourself,” her mother replied. “What’s the matter, darling? Forgot to put on your makeup?”
Cindy raised a hand to her bare cheek, realized she hadindeed forgotten to put on any makeup. Still Neil had said she was beautiful, she thought gratefully, shaking her head as he approached, signaling the caller wasn’t Julia. “I’m fine, Mom. Just a little busy at the moment. Can I call you back?”
“You don’t have to bother. I’m just checking in. Everything all right? Your sister said you sounded pissy, and I’m afraid I have to agree with her.”
Cindy closed her eyes, ran her free hand through her hair. “Everything’s
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