Barbara was forty-two now, and if she wanted to become a mom she would have to get a move on. She didnât want people to think she was her own childâs grandma on his or her first day at school!
She loved being in the field and getting around, being active rather than stuck behind a desk, but she figured she had already got everything she wanted from her career, and getting it had hindered her private life more than she could ever have imagined. She felt ready for a new chapter because she loved Robert and knew that sheâd never find another guy like him and would eventually end up alone. â A horrible, frumpy old maid. Thatâ s what would become of me!â Barbara thought to herself as she ran along West Drive before turning at the south end of Central Park and lengthening her stride as she headed toward East Drive. From there, she would exit the Park on 72nd Street and make her way to her apartment, where she would have time for a quick shower before packing her case for the weekend.
Chapter 6
R obert Brown had booked a table at Erminia, an Italian restaurant on the Upper East Side that had been in Eyewitness Travelâ s top ten for a while now.
Barbara had Italian roots and Robert knew that she would appreciate his choice of eatery, even though it was only her maternal grandmother who was Italian and Barbara herself had never been to Italy.
Robert was going to ask her to marry him in Maine, and he wanted everything to be perfect. He loved her and wanted her as his wife. He had told his dad as much in a phone call that morning before leaving the office, and his dad had responded by telling him it was the biggest load of crap heâd ever heard come out of his sonâs mouth: â Son, youâ ve done great so far and now you want to tie yourself down?â Robert chuckled to himself as he recalled his fatherâs words, spending several minutes flossing in front of the bathroom mirror. Robert was obsessed with his teeth. He brushed them at least ten times a day and flossed even after eating a couple olives with an apéritif. He never went anywhere without his faithful white box of floss. As a teenager, he had lost three teeth when he face-planted after coming off his bike having misjudged a bend at the bottom of a crazy descent. He had also broken an arm and his nose and had deep abrasions on both knees. He survived, fortunately, but having to look at himself without those teeth for three months was unbearable. Heâd lost one canine and two premolars, and for someone who was one of the three best-looking guys in college, with a smile that was irresistible to the ladies, that represented something of an existential crisis. He could have had them put back in earlier, but his dad wanted to teach him a lesson and make him see that weâre all just flesh and bones, nobody is indestructible. It was a lesson that had served him well. The boy who fell off his bike had gotten into several scrapes over the years, but that experience had straightened his head out and now he was Robert Brown, owner of one of New Yorkâs premier renovation firms and able to rely on the best carpenter around: his brother, James. The brothers and their team could turn a run-down apartment into a luxury home in a matter of weeks.
Chapter 7
W ith her voice like nails down a blackboard and eyes like a hawk, Miss Anderson always made Henry break out in a cold sweat; every time she looked at him, she seemed to be saying the same thing: â Youâ ll never pass your exams. No chance.â
Summer was in the air at Northfield Elementary School. The mating ritual of two flies buzzing their way irritatingly round the classroom confirmed as much. Henry flicked the flies away from his face with his right hand, sending them toward the middle of the room. The class was waiting for Miss Anderson to collect the test that had proved beyond Henry. He was more about words than figures.
The buzzer sounding on Miss Andersonâs desk was the cue for her to begin her sixty-second countdown, at the end of which the pupils would have to put down their pens.
âSixty, fifty-nine, fifty-eight, fifty-seven, fifty-sixâ¦â
That bitch loved counting down to zero. She had that smug look on her face, and it gave her a thrill when she caught the eye of a struggling student who seemed to be begging her for more time.
Henry had already put his pen down by the time sheâd reached thirty. He looked down casually at his paper, where aside from a square and a few multiplications, he hadnât managed to finish much - certainly not the divisions, which he found impossible once the numbers got too high.
Joanna complained that she just needed one more minute.
âYou canât cheat the clock! Eleven, ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one.....zerooooo!â
Miss Anderson got up from her desk and headed straight for Joanna to collect hers first. Joanna threw her arms over her sheet in a desperate but vain attempt to keep it from her teacherâs grasp.
âI want to see ALL pens on the tables. Is that clear?â the teacher said sternly, waving Joannaâs test in the air.
Joanna Longowa was of Polish origin. The prettiest girl in class, she had long blond hair, blue eyes, and fair skin that highlighted her rosy pink lips. Henry had liked her right from the third grade, when she and her family had moved to New Jersey. She was good at all the subjects, and her only flaw was her perfectionism. Henry was certain sheâd finished the test and got all the sums right, but figured sheâd just wanted to embellish her standard-issue paper with some doodles.
âHenry Lewis, what do you call this?â
âItâs my test,â Henry replied timidly. A few of the children couldnât stop themselves from smirking. Everyone knew that Henry was dumb at math, but no-one was brave enough to mock him in front of Miss Anderson, because sheâd mark you down or, worse, detain the entire class during recess for a whole week.
âSilence!â she yelled, reaching up slowly and clenching her fist around the two flies. She walked calmly to the open window and tossed the traumatized insects outside as if she were feeding the ducks.
There was complete silence as Miss Anderson finished collecting in the assignments, and only the bell at the end of the class restored the usual noise and commotion.
Chapter 8
cca
T ed Burton drove his old Wrangler out of Jimâs repair shop at midday, and within an hour he had arrived in Jersey City to spend a few hours with his friends from the Firearms Academy. Sat outside the entrance as usual, basking in the sun, was Leland Wright. Leland was well into his seventies, but he had the complexion and look of a man fifteen years younger. He wore a Marines beret over his close-cropped white hair, a blue t-shirt bearing the inscription â My girl is my gunâ, gray camouflage pants, and black tactical boots.
âI thought you werenât coming round here no more!â said Leland as Ted appeared before him.
âWhat do you say we have ourselves a little M4 battle?â replied Ted, grinning from ear to ear.
Leland looked at his friend and began to laugh as he stood up from his plastic chair.
âYou old son of a bitch....wait here while I ask Charlie to come
