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“This is so difficult for me to write … , ” the letter began. “I have to go back home.”
Back home. Roxanne was dumbstruck. She was certain Lauritzia didn’t have any family there anymore. She had never completely spelled out the details, but she always said there was nothing for her back home anymore.
“You and your kids, you have been like a true family to me … You spoke of this after the terrible thing we witnessed the other day. But it is I who can never repay you, not …”
“Oh, no, no, no, Lauritzia …” Roxanne felt herself almost start to cry.
She didn’t know what could have caused Lauritzia to panic so. Obviously it was connected to what had happened at the mall. That had triggered something. She and Harold had noticed that Lauritzia hadn’t seemed herself since. But to leave like this. Out of nowhere. Without even saying good-bye. And to go where? Back home … back to a place where she had nothing. Running away as if she was in fear. Running from what? The kids would be brokenhearted.
The note made it seem as if she felt she had no options. But she did. She did have options.
Roxanne ran into Lauritzia’s room. The bed had been made, her textbooks piled neatly on the night table. How proud she had been the day she came back with them! The closet was cleaned out. Roxanne checked the bathroom. Empty. She sat sadly on the bed.
Oh, God, Lauritzia. Why?
It was clear she could only have left just a few minutes earlier. She had driven the kids to school. And the Ford Escape, the car she always used, was still in the driveway, so she must’ve called a cab.
Roxanne punched in the number, already sure where Lauritzia would head. She glanced at her watch. She knew she only had minutes.
“Riverside Cab.”
“Hi, this is Mrs. Bachman, at 230 Brookside. I think our nanny just left in one of your cars?”
“Yes, Mrs. Bachman.” The dispatcher paused, checking. “She should be just arriving at the station now.”
“Can you raise the driver? Can you tell him to tell her to wait for me? Tell her not to get on that train. I’ll be right there!”
She ran back into the kitchen and pulled off the Metro-North schedule that was pinned to the bulletin board. It was 9:32. The next train to New York was 9:45. Thirteen minutes. That didn’t give her much time.
Grabbing her bag, Roxanne jumped back into the Ranger Rover and backed out of the driveway. It was ten minutes to the station. If she didn’t get there, Lauritzia might well be gone, out of their lives forever.
She couldn’t let that happen. Not without letting her know, whatever it was, whatever had suddenly scared her, that she did have options.
She drove on Riverside, heading toward the station, and punched in Lauritzia’s cell on the Bluetooth.
No answer. She wasn’t picking up. Roxanne wasn’t surprised. The voice mail came on. “This is Lauritzia …”
“Lauritzia, this is Roxanne. Hon, I know you’re at the station. I’m headed there right now. I read your note. I know you feel you have to go, but whatever it is, I want you to wait for me. Just to talk, before you go. Will you wait for me, please! I’m on my way.”
She drove a little crazily, barely stopping at the signs on Riverside Avenue and Lake, then wound around the traffic circle into the station.
She drove up to the southbound tracks, just as a city-bound train was pulling in. She threw the car into park and ran up onto the platform. She looked in both directions, saw about a dozen people moving toward the opening doors. She didn’t see Lauritzia anywhere. Where the hell was she? Could she possibly have made it there ahead of time and gotten on a delayed, earlier train?
She threw her arms in the air and blew out a breath in dismay.
Then she saw her. At the far end of the platform, lugging her bags, just as the train came to a stop.
“Lauritzia!”
The nanny turned. There was something anxious and unhappy in her reaction, being spotted. Whatever it was, it wasn’t joy.
Roxanne sprinted down the platform, begging the doors not to close. “Lauritzia, please!”
Passengers got on. A conductor stepped out. “Nine forty-five to Grand Central! In or out, ma’am,” he said to Lauritzia.
She steadied her suitcases. Roxanne could see the conflicting emotions in her eyes. Hesitating …
Roxanne stopped about ten feet away. She just stood there. “Lauritzia, please … there’ll be another train. Please!”
The girl was tough as nails and 100 percent determined, but standing there, unsure what to do, she had the appearance of a frightened child. She took a step back onto the platform.
The train doors closed.
“I don’t want you to go,” Roxanne said, the train pulling away beside them. “I don’t know what happened. I don’t know why you feel you have to leave. But whatever it is, Harold and I want you to stay. The kids want you to stay.”
“I can’t …” Lauritzia shook her head. “I have to go.”
“We can help. You’re like family to us. You’re not alone, Lauritzia. Whatever it is, we’ll be there for you.”
“You can’t help.” Lauritzia’s eyes flashed defiantly. “You may think you can, but you can’t. And I didn’t save their lives. I didn’t. It was I who put them at risk.”
“What are you talking about?” Roxanne asked her.
Lauritzia grabbed her bags. She attempted to move away. But then one fell out of her grasp. She stopped. They were the only ones left on the platform.
“Tell me what it is. The kids love you. They’ll be heartbroken. We’ll be heartbroken.”
“And I love you all too. Don’t you understand?” Lauritzia put her bags down. “It is precisely because of that that I have to go.”
Roxanne went up and grabbed her. She put her arms around her and hugged her, feeling the tremor of the girl’s conflicted emotions. Until Lauritzia’s resistance began to wane, and her cheek fell wearily onto Roxanne’s chest, and she began to weep, her words falling off her lips like tears, tears of hopelessness and futility. “It will only bring bullets and tragedy. Please, Mrs. B, let me go.”
“Why?” Roxanne looked into her eyes. “Why do you have to run?”
“Don’t you understand, I didn’t save your children at the mall. I am the one who put them at risk. Those bullets weren’t meant for those other people who were killed.” Her eyes filled with terror. “They were meant for me!”