So that was how I came to leave my house, my husband, and my baby behind, possibly to struggle through a first feeding without me. I promised myself I would not call to check up on them or rush home to make the two P.M. nursing. I was a woman of the world, I had a job to do, and I would do it. I drove down the street without looking back.
Mrs. Halliday lived in a different part of Brooklyn, in a much smaller house than the Starks’. It took a turn around the block before I found an empty space, and then a brisk walk in the cold took me to her house. The tiny patch of grass in front of it had long ago been replaced with concrete, which had lifted unevenly over the years, probably because of the roots of the single tree planted there. I went up the front walk and rang the bell.
“You must be Miss Bennett. Come in.”
“Thank you. Please call me Chris. It’s nice and warm in here.”
“It’s an old house, built like a fortress. Let me have your coat.”
Mrs. Halliday wasn’t what I expected. She was tall and fairly slim, wearing dark brown pants, a white blouse, and a tan suede vest. Her hair was cut short and was still in a state of flux, turning from dark to gray in a very attractive way. There was nothing “little” or “old” about her. I could imagine this woman having a job or catching the eye of a good-looking man.
“Lunch is on the table,” she said, gesturing toward the kitchen. “I’m surprised to see you alone. I thought I’d have the pleasure of a baby’s company.”
I think I blushed a little. “I left him with his father. I’m not sure who’s more nervous.”
She smiled. “By the time you get home, no one will be nervous any more.”
I liked her. The smile was genuine, the voice sincere. If she’d been my teacher when I was ten, I would have wanted to keep her forever as Susan had.
We sat down at the kitchen table where two salads were waiting for us. Each was garnished with half a hard-boiled egg, slices of cucumber, and some lettuce that wasn’t iceberg. An array of salad dressings was clustered on the table and we each picked a different one.
“Where do you want me to begin?” my hostess asked, after offering me a choice of soft drinks.
“How did your friendship with Susan start?”
“She was my pupil when she was ten or eleven and I was correspondingly younger. She was a child of talent and depth and had great inner beauty. She was a little withdrawn perhaps, but with much inside that was trying to get out. She may have been overwhelmed by her parents, who are go-getters in their own right. Not that they neglected her; they didn’t. She was brought up in a house full of love and has developed into a spectacular young woman.”
“Do you know about her relationship with Kevin Angstrom?”
“Oh yes. We’ve talked about him.”
“I haven’t met her father,” I said. “Do you know anything about him?”
“I probably haven’t seen him since Susan was a pupil of mine. She’s very fond of him. I think he’s a good man.”
“And Mrs. Stark?”
“I talk to her from time to time. I think she’s a good mother and a good person.”
This was a woman of firm beliefs but I couldn’t judge how accurate her appraisals were. Much of what she thought about Susan’s parents could be a reflection of Susan’s own feelings. I thought it was interesting that she had expressed no opinion whatever about Kevin, only admitting she knew about him.
“How often do you and Susan get together?” I asked.
“Very irregularly. I think Susan feels I’m a lonely, retired schoolteacher, but she’s only half right. I retired a few years ago for a number of reasons we don’t have to go into, and I work at another job a few days a week. I’m far from lonely, but I appreciate Susan’s concern and I love seeing her. Whenever she drops by, I’m happy.”
“Do you have a family, Mrs. Halliday?”
“I do. I was married years ago, widowed, but left with one daughter. I have no complaints.”
“You said on the phone that you might be able to help me find Susan. I’d be very grateful for anything you can tell me.”
“I had second thoughts after we spoke, but Mrs. Stark is really so upset at Susan’s disappearance that I decided to tell you enough to give you a direction to move in. She seems to trust you, said you are a friend of an old friend.”
“That’s true.”
“Are the police involved?”
“Minimally. Susan is an adult and she has a right to go where she pleases and not tell her family or her boyfriend. She borrowed someone’s car and even though she hasn’t returned it when she promised to, the owner of the car wasn’t planning on using it this weekend anyway. So it adds up to Susan missing a New Year’s Eve party, returning a car late, and not calling home.”
“I think you mentioned fifty miles?”
“She told the car’s owner she might put a total of a hundred miles on the car.”
“Well, that would certainly be the range.”
“You know where she was going?”
“I know that Susan has been trying to find someone for many years. I can’t tell you who the person is because it would cause a great deal of consternation in her family, and I don’t know if this person even exists. But Susan believes that—” she paused, then said, “—this person exists.” She didn’t want to say “he” or “she.”
“It’s some time since I’ve seen Susan, a month or more,” she continued. “She told me last time we spoke that she had a good lead, that the place was upstate, up the Hudson somewhere. Maybe your fifty miles would get you there.”
“Do you have a name, a town, an address?”
“I do if I can coax it out of my mind.”
I sat quietly while Mrs. Halliday closed her eyes. After a moment she pushed her chair back and stood, walked to the kitchen window, and looked out at the snowy back yard.
“Something like Blazerville,” she said finally, and turned back to the window as though the inspiration might continue.
I wrote it down. The name didn’t ring a bell. St. Stephen’s Convent is “up the Hudson” and I’ve driven along both sides of the river for years.
“Blazertown?” she asked, as though I might have an answer.
“Now that I have a direction, I can look at a good map and find whichever town it is,” I said. “Do you have a name for the person?”
“Susan never told me.” She was facing me now, her back against the sink. “But it’s an old farmhouse that no one’s living in anymore. Except this person, of course.”
“Do you have a street name, the name of a neighbor, anything that would get me closer than the town?”
“The name of the farmer. Remember the old song?” She sang, “ ‘Old MacDonald had a farm, Ee-i-ee-i-o.’ It wasn’t MacDonald but it was something like that. I can’t remember much else. I only remember this ‘Blazer’ because she let it slip once. She never said it again. I’ve known for most of the years of our friendship that something was bothering Susan, that there was someone she needed to find. She said several times that her life was a jigsaw puzzle with one huge piece missing. That’s the piece she’s been searching for, but she’s never come out and said something like, ‘I’m going to meet Aunt Margaret if it’s the last thing I do.’ ”
“Mrs. Halliday, I’ve been told by someone who knows Susan very well that she thinks she’s adopted.”
She smiled. “That’s pretty foolish, isn’t it?” she said.
“I think so. Her friend thinks so.”
“So what is it that makes Susan believe that? That’s what you should be asking.”
“So you don’t think she’s off visiting her natural mother?”
“I think her natural mother lives with her natural father where Susan grew up. As to whom she’s visiting, I don’t really know, Chris, and anything I suspect I’ve gleaned from years of listening.”
I heard her say “whom” and was reminded I was in the presence of a teacher, one old enough to make distinctions that my generation had all but abandoned. “Then she’s never really told you?”
“Not in so many words.”
“Do you think her mother would have any idea if I could think of a good way of putting it to her?”
“I think if you talk to Mrs. Stark about the possibility that Susan is adopted, she’ll be very distressed, especially at this time. It will mean to her that her child missed something in their relationship. And I’m sure she feels that nothing is missing.”
“From what I’ve heard, Susan has a very good relationship with her parents.”
“I’ve heard the same. And I’ve heard it from Susan herself.”
“I have a feeling I’m more confused now than when I came in.”
“Why don’t you just wait a day or so? Susan isn’t expected back at work till Monday. Maybe she found this person and needs some time to think about things. Maybe she didn’t find anyone, and that’s given her more to think about. She borrowed a car, she said she was driving a hundred miles round-trip. She may just want to be alone for a day or two.”
“She had a date with Kevin for New Year’s Eve,” I said.
“Ah yes, Kevin.”
There it was again, the feeling that she was avoiding saying something negative. “Do you know much about him?”
“Only what Susan’s told me. He sounds like a very nice young man. Perhaps ‘young man’ is a bit inaccurate. He’s in his thirties, I believe.”
“I think so. I met him yesterday. He seemed almost frantic at Susan’s disappearance.”
“Why didn’t she tell him?” Mrs. Halliday mused. “They have a close relationship. I expect they’ll marry. Is there something about him that kept her from telling him her secret?”
“Why didn’t she tell you?” I countered.
“You’re right to ask. In many ways I’m the perfect person for her to have told. I’m not family. I’m not judgmental. I love her dearly.”
It was a question I would ask myself.
I walked through the cold to my car. It was too late to attempt to get home for Eddie’s two-ish nursing, and although I was still nervous about leaving father and son alone, another part of me was glad. I would take my time, stop to do some shopping on the way. I had witnessed Dr. Campbell cutting the physical cord; now I would take Step Number One toward cutting the deeper, emotional one that bound me to my sweet infant son. I had the sense that something momentous was happening, something only I was aware of in this great world where people were going their own ways on a sunny winter Saturday. I passed a woman with two young children, one in a stroller. Had she been as affected as I the first time she left them? I waved to the little girl, the older one, and she smiled and waved back. I pulled my keys out and let myself into my car. I was a wife, a mother, and a free woman. I felt very good about all three.
I thought about Mrs. Halliday on the way home. She probably knew or suspected more than she had told me but unless there was an indication of foul play, it wasn’t likely she would open up further. I had a direction, a possible town, the name of a farmer—although I didn’t quite understand what role he played in all this. Jack would help me find the town and a phone book might do the rest.
I got home a little after four with a bag of groceries. I went around to the front of the house to check on the mail and let myself into the living room through the front door. Since we built the addition, we don’t use the living room much. There wasn’t a sound, so I kept quiet. I hung up my coat, dropped the bag in the kitchen, and went on to the family room, which is a couple of steps down from the kitchen. It was perfectly silent and I looked around, seeing my husband stretched out on the leather sofa, fast asleep. A little sound made me turn my head. Eddie was sitting in his baby chair on the floor near the sofa. I walked toward him, and he gave me the biggest smile of his life.
“Hi, little sweetheart,” I said with absolute joy. “You recognize me, don’t you? It’s Mommy.”
The smile lingered and he moved his arms and legs as I bent to pick him up.
“Chris?” Jack’s sleepy voice said.
“He knows me, Jack,” I said. “Look how happy he is to see me.”
“Oh boy. I must’ve dropped off.”
I sat down next to Jack with Eddie on my lap. His little hands were waving. “Did Daddy take good care of you?” I asked.
“He ate like a horse, burped like a champ, slept for an hour, and then I couldn’t keep him quiet. He wore me out.”
“Go back to sleep, honey. I’ll keep him company.”
“Were you worried?”
“Me? I knew I’d left him in good hands.”
“I mean about me. This was a first, you know?”
I took a deep breath. “I knew you could handle it.” Then I sat back and relaxed.