CHAPTER 43

I GOOGLED THE PARK, MOM,” Jenny says as they head through the Sixth Avenue entrance. “It opened in 1857. Before that it was open country. There were even some farms with cows. It has four lakes and two streams, and guess who lives here? Possums, raccoons, and skunks.”

“Now skunks are nocturnal, aren’t they, honey?”

It’s a lovely May afternoon, mild and blue-skied, and the park is filled with people of all ages and colors and persuasions strolling, running, biking, boarding, clutches of friends young and laughing, elderly on benches chatting, pigeon feeders and iPaders, artists and executives, the driven and the drifting, New York in all its glorious humanity—Erica simply can’t get enough. And being here with Jenny takes it all to another level, to a place that feels close to . . . happiness.

They walk past the park’s southernmost lake and head north toward the carousel.

“That party wasn’t much fun, was it?” Erica says.

“It was okay.”

“You’re a good sport.”

Jenny shrugs. “Greg is nice. Is he your special friend?”

“Well, maybe. Yes, kind of. I hope so. Do you like him?”

“He’s interesting. And cute.” Jenny smiles at her mom, and for a second they’re girlfriends talking about cute boys.

But they’re not girlfriends, they’re mother and daughter, and Erica wants to have a meaningful talk with Jenny, find out how she’s feeling, what’s going on inside her. At the same time, she dreads it.

She screws her courage to the sticking place and strokes Jenny’s head. “Can we talk about something serious, honey?”

Jenny nods.

“I know I hurt you when I was drinking. I’m sorry for that.”

“Why did you drink so much, Mom?”

“Well, I was probably working too hard. Putting a lot of pressure on myself. Your father and I weren’t getting along. And I’m one of those people who can’t stop drinking when they start.”

“An alcoholic?”

“Yes.”

“You did hurt me. I hated you.”

The words sting—but their honesty soothes. “I don’t blame you. I hope you can try to forgive me.”

“You hurt Daddy too.”

“I’m sure I did. When two people are married and it doesn’t work out, there’s a lot of pain. It takes time to get some perspective. I think your dad and I are on a more even keel these days. One thing that will always bond us is our love for you.”

“I’m glad I’m not a grown-up.”

Erica laughs. “You know, you will be one of these days.”

“Not too soon, I hope.”

“What do you think of New York City?”

“It’s big and there are a lot of people.”

“I find it exciting.”

“People look at you. You’re famous.”

“Do you like that?”

Jenny nods. “Do you like it?”

Erica looks around. People do recognize her—but she’s not a movie star like Reese Witherspoon or Anne Hathaway; she’s a newscaster associated with a national tragedy, so the response she gets is more muted and respectful. But it brings a sense of power nonetheless. “Yes, I do, honey. It’s a strange feeling, but I hope I’ve earned it. I work hard. Look, there’s the carousel.”

Jenny’s face lights up at the sight of the venerable old amusement ride with its brightly painted horses and calliope music. They sit on a bench and watch it go round and round, filled with excited children laughing and shrieking with joy. Erica feels a moment of envy. But it gives way to solace—with all the chaos and evil in the world, children still know how to laugh and play.

“How are things at school, honey?”

“I got an A in science.”

“Did you? I’m so proud of you. I don’t think I ever got above a C in science.”

“Why don’t you want me to live with you, Mom?”

This is the question Erica dreads most. “Oh, but I do, baby girl, I do more than anything. It’s just that, well . . .” She takes a deep breath and dives in, dives into the lies. No, they’re not lies, they’re fibs, temporary fibs, just until . . . until . . .? “I didn’t want you to have to switch schools in the middle of the year. And I sometimes have to fly out of town on a moment’s notice, so you’d be left alone—we’d have to find you a nanny. And my hours are so unpredictable, you’d be eating way too much cold pizza and microwave dinners.”

“My friend Bridget’s mother does it all alone. She’s busy too.”

Erica is at a loss as to how to answer. “Do you want to live with me?”

Jenny folds her arms and looks down. “I don’t know. I don’t trust you.”

Erica takes Jenny’s chin in her hand and gently raises her head. “Will you give me a chance to earn your trust?”

Jenny considers this. Then she nods. Erica wants to wrap her arms around her but resists. “I promise you that as soon as I can make it happen, we’ll be living together.” She runs her fingers through Jenny’s hair. “May I see what’s in your backpack?”

“It’s private.”

“Okay.”

“But you can look.”

Jenny hands her mom the backpack. Erica takes out the new iPod, crazy bands, a dog-eared Judy Blume book that she recognizes as her own old copy, a brush, and then . . . Mikey, the small stuffed monkey that Erica gave Jenny on her second birthday. The little fella looks threadbare but well loved.

“Mikey,” Erica says simply. Jenny reaches over and strokes his head. They sit quietly for a little bit as the excited city swirls around them. Then Erica puts everything back in the pack, hands it to Jenny, stands up, takes her hand, and gestures toward the carousel. She’d ask Jenny if she wants to take a ride, but the lump in her throat would make it difficult to speak.

They ride around, Jenny happily bouncing on her horse. Just as they get off the carousel, Erica’s phone rings—it’s Detective Takahashi from LA.

“I have some news on the Barrish murder. We’ve found the probable car that picked up Yanez at the bus stop. It’s a Lexus rental stolen from a beach parking lot in Santa Monica. It was abandoned on the street in Covina. It’s being taken to the lab for analysis. There’s copious blood in the trunk, including splatters consistent with a single gunshot wound. A jacket matching the one Yanez was wearing was also found in the trunk.”

Erica puts her phone back in her purse.

“Who was that, Mommy?”

“A detective in Los Angeles. There’s a new development in the Barrish murder.”

“Breaking news?”

“Yes.”

“Well, come on then, we have to get you to the studio!” Jenny grabs Erica’s hand and starts to run.