Here She Lies

peep,” Julie said. “You can relax.”
    “Easier said than done. I haven’t felt really rested in weeks.”
    “Well, that’s no surprise, considering everything you’ve been through.”
    “We,” I told her. “You’re going through it with me.”
    “The Zara thing, yes. But not your separation. I’m not losing anything; I’m gaining.”
    I couldn’t bring myself to remind her that her gain of me and Lexy would be temporary, just for the spring and part of the summer.
    Julie went downstairs to make breakfast while I set up my breast pump in the downstairs bathroom (so as not to wake Lexy with the loud motor) and expressed a bottle of milk. It relieved my swollen breasts, which by this time of the morning had usually fed Lexy once. When I was finished I stowed the bottle in the fridge and joined Julie at the small table by the good kitchen window — the one whose alarm had not gone off last night. She had prepared a delicious breakfast of scrambled eggs and thick slices of toast slathered with strawberryjam from a local farmers market. Outside, flickers of light showed the sun’s struggle to break through the clouds. I hoped we wouldn’t have more rain.
    We ate our breakfast and, as Lexy slept in to compensate for last night’s rude awakening, Julie and I discussed the day, which largely involved reviewing last night. Detective Lazare had promised an official, forensic analysis of the window. The alarm company was sending someone over. And my wallet was missing, presenting a host of inconveniences, since I was leaving for New York (on the bus, I guessed, now that I was without a license) on Sunday night, just two days away, and there were preparations to be made. Simple but difficult preparations, for in many ways I was a reluctant participant in my own plan. Meanwhile, it was still up in the air if Bobby was coming this weekend — and now on top of everything else, if my wallet wasn’t at Gatsby’s, I would have to tell him that I was canceling our joint credit cards once again. Because it was a long trip from Kentucky, I knew he wouldn’t come until tomorrow if he came at all, so I would have a little time to straighten out as much as possible before delivering the news, if necessary.
    No one answered at Gatsby’s and a quick Googling on the Web told me that they didn’t open until eleven o’clock. So I would wait. Meanwhile, Ray the Forensic Specialist arrived at just past nine a.m. and introduced himself to us before hunkering outside the kitchen window to dust and brush and photograph surfaces for telltale fingerprints. He then dusted the inside window frame, thanked us and left. It took all of fifteen minutes, and another ten to clean up the chalky whiteresidue he’d left behind inside and out. No one seemed particularly worried about the malarm; in fact, I was getting the feeling from all the law enforcement guys — Mack and Gabe Lazare and Ray — that they dealt with misfired alarm systems on a regular basis.
    By the time we had scrubbed all traces of Ray from the window, Lexy was awake. Julie got dressed and I left them alone in the kitchen so aunt could give niece her bottle of expressed breast milk. I showered and dressed and from the Yellow Room heard another car pull up and stop outside the house. Looking out the window, I saw a van from the alarm company. Another guy carried another toolbox up the flagstone path and rang the kitchen doorbell. Then it was quiet; Julie must have let him in. The thought that she could navigate feeding a baby cradled in her arms while getting up to open the door encouraged me that my brief trip away would go smoothly. Julie was nothing if not competent and responsible and she loved Lexy.
    Later, while Julie played with Lexy in the living room, I headed outside with my camera, stopping to say hello to the malarm man. He was wearing a blue uniform, pacing the grass, staring at the ground.
    “Searching for a needle in a haystack?” I asked.
    He looked at me. Moss green eyes. A nice smile. “I just can’t figure out where that magnet went. Not inside, not outside. The new one’s going to stay in place, though. I made sure of that.”
    I realized he thought I was Julie and that we were continuing a conversation they had started earlier in the house — Julie with her hair now in a ponytail, wearing different clothes and pounds heavier. It was funnyhow often people failed to notice the details. But I went with it, stepping closer to take a look. On