Perhaps it never would have had to go as far as it did.
5
When we biked home from Alexandra and Dino’s, the police cars were still at the school. It was frightening, that something like this could happen so close by. Apparently the body had been found at a playground by an early-bird mom who’d brought her small children to play. I shuddered at the thought.
Ulrika hopped off her bike in the driveway and hurried for the door.
“Aren’t you going to lock it up?” I called.
“Have to pee,” she mumbled, digging through her purse for her keys.
I led her bike across the paved path and parked it next to my own under the metal roof. I realized I had forgotten to cover the grill and found the protective casing in the shed.
When I came inside, Ulrika was standing on the stairs.
“Stella’s still not home. I called, but she won’t pick up.”
“I’m sure she’s working late,” I said. “You know they’re not allowed to have their phones on them.”
“But it’s Saturday. The store closed hours ago.”
That hadn’t occurred to me.
“I’m sure she just went somewhere with a friend. We’ll have another talk with her tonight. She needs to get better at keeping us in the loop.”
I put my arm around Ulrika.
“I got such a terrible feeling,” she said. “When we saw all those police. A murder? Here?”
“I know. It makes me feel uneasy too.”
We sat down on the sofa and I looked up the latest news on my phone, reading it aloud to her.
The victim was a man in his thirties, a local. The police were being very secretive about the incident, but one of the evening papers said that a woman who lived nearby had heard fighting and shouting outside her window during the night.
“This kind of thing doesn’t happen to just anyone,” I said, as if I, and not Ulrika, were the expert. “I’m sure it’s alcoholics or drug addicts. Or gang crime.”
Ulrika breathed calmly against my shoulder.
But I wasn’t saying this to relieve her anxiety. I was convinced it was true.
“I was planning to make carbonara.”
I stood up and kissed her cheek.
“Already? I don’t think I could manage to eat as much as a piece of arugula right now.”
“Slow food,” I smiled. “Real food takes time, honey.”
* * *
As the bacon sizzled in my carefully selected olive oil from Campania, Ulrika came thundering down the stairs.
“Stella forgot her phone.”
“What?”
She paced restlessly back and forth between the kitchen island and the window.
“It was on her desk.”
“Well, that’s odd.” The carbonara was at such a critical stage that I couldn’t look away from it. “Did she forget it?”
“Yes, didn’t you hear me? It was on her desk!”
Ulrika was nearly shouting.
It was certainly unusual for Stella to leave her phone at home, but there was no reason to overreact. I stirred the carbonara swiftly as I turned down the heat.
“Forget the pasta,” Ulrika said, tugging at my arm. “I’m seriously worried. I just called Amina, but she isn’t answering either.”
“She’s sick,” I said, just as I realized the carbonara was going to be a failure.
I slammed the wooden spoon down on the counter and yanked the pan from the burner.
“Maybe she left her phone at home on purpose,” I said, battling whatever was bubbling up in my chest. “You know her boss has been getting after her about it.”
Ulrika shook her head.
“Her boss hasn’t been getting after her. She gave the whole staff a warning about using their cell phones at work. Surely you don’t believe Stella would voluntarily leave her phone at home?”
No, of course that didn’t sound likely.
“She must have forgotten it. I’m sure she was in a hurry this morning.”
“I’ll call around to her friends,” Ulrika said. “This isn’t like her.”
“Shouldn’t you hold off on that?”
I rambled on, something about how we’d been spoiled by modern technology and constant access to our daughter, always knowing where she was. There was really no reason to get all worked up.
“I’m sure she’ll come flying through the door any moment.”
At the same time, I started to have a nagging feeling in my stomach. Being a parent means never being able to relax.
When Ulrika padded up the creaking stairs, I took the opportunity to slip into the laundry room.