Julia stared at the screen. The call was lost, but for just a second, she was sure, it had connected. In fact, she was sure he had answered. With a rush of adrenaline, she tried again. That call failed. So did three more. Tears ran down her cheeks.
“Damn it,” she hissed.
Before the word even got out, her phone rang. Her hope lasted nothing more than a split second before her home number appeared on the screen. The phone continued to ring. She stared at that number, and that briefest glimmer of hope faded away. She felt empty and alone. She felt utterly defeated. Yet she answered the call, thinking of Evan and Thomas.
“Julia,” her mother said.
Hearing her mother’s voice brought everything back. She spoke quickly.
“He’s alive, Mom. Someone saw him. He used his credit card.”
“Are you serious?”
“I called him. I think it connected. I think he answered . . . before the call died. He’s on a bus going to Philadelphia.”
“Are you going there?”
“My car is across town. I won’t make it. I need to talk to the police, let them know.”
Julia heard talking in the background. Then her mother relayed what she had said to someone else. She heard a shuffle and then Evelyn was on the line.
“Oh, my God,” Evelyn said. “That’s great!”
“You’re still there?”
“I just brought the kids back. Tara’s taking them to the movies in half an hour. Look, you go talk to the police. I’ll head up to Philadelphia and be there when the bus arrives. What’s the number?”
“Evelyn, I can’t ask you to do that.”
“Shut your mouth. I’m doing it.”
Julia gave her the bus number. “You don’t even know where the bus station is.”
Evelyn laughed. “The Internet does.”
Julia paused. She felt so overwhelmed. It was hard to believe her friends would do so much for her. How could she ever repay them?
“Thanks,” she said. She meant so much more than that, but it was the only word that would come out.
Julia sat in a chair at a desk inside the police station at Newark Penn Station. A woman sat across from her, taking notes on a computer as Julia told her every detail.
“Are you okay?” the officer asked.
“Me?”
She nodded. “Have you slept?”
Julia shook her head.
“Eaten?”
“No.”
“Wait here,” the woman said.
She disappeared from the small office. Julia let out a breath. It left her feeling empty and exhausted. She had not thought about herself since the news broke the night before. That fact was not melodramatic. It was simply the truth. And the officer’s questions brought her needs to the front. In a way, she wished the woman hadn’t even opened that door.
Not five minutes later, the officer reappeared. She carried a cup of coffee and what looked like a cherry Danish. She placed it in front of Julia.
“I’m not sure if you like this sort of thing, but maybe you should eat.”
Julia didn’t, not before. But in that moment, it all looked like ambrosia to her. She dug in without even thinking about the fact that someone was watching her eat.
“We’ll have an officer at the terminal in Philadelphia before the Express arrives. I’ve faxed the picture you gave me to them. They’ll find your husband and get him home. I promise.”
“Thank you so much.”
“What about you?” she asked.
“Oh . . . I have to get my car. I think it’s at the police station in Weehawken.”
The officer smiled. Something about it seemed sad to Julia, and she didn’t understand that.
“I’ll drive you down there.”
“Thank you,” Julia said, and realized she’d said that a lot lately.