Seven Minutes to Noon

motherhood dragged her forward until night. She wondered now if she should have stayed in the air-conditioned store, unpacking the latest shipment of autumn shoes. She should have confirmed with Lauren before heading out early into the scalding afternoon. The heat felt like a woolen blanket cinched around her, dark and suffocating. Six months into her third pregnancy — with twins, double the trouble,double the fun — she could already feel the babies pressing against her lungs.
    She tried to remember what Lauren had said yesterday about her plans for today: morning errands, then her Pregnant Pause Pilates class at noon in Park Slope. Lauren loved the class and had been urging Alice to join, but she felt she didn’t have the time; between work at Blue Shoes and obligations at home, she couldn’t squeeze in one more thing. But Lauren was devoted to her Pilates class and always went. Still, she was more than eight months pregnant with her second child and the heat wave may have dissuaded her.
    Alice found her cell phone at the bottom of her purse and speed-dialed Lauren’s cell. When her voice mail came on, Alice left a message. Then she called Lauren at home and left another message on the machine.
    She dropped the phone back into her purse and pulled out the folded, now crumpled letter she was eager to share with Lauren. Flattening it across her lap, she read it again, with its bold, blunt title: THIRTY DAY NOTICE OF EVICTION. She had been served the summons at the store just an hour ago, feeling betrayed that her landlord, Joey — former landlord, as of the sale of his brownstone two days ago — had supplied the new owner with her work address. The letter was signed Julius Pollack, owner. Why hadn’t Mr. Pollack, owner, contacted them first? Discussed it? Found out how diligently Alice and Mike had been house hunting lately? Lauren and her husband, Tim, had received a similar notice earlier in the summer — hers signed by a managing agent for Metro Properties — giving them the same thirty days to vacate their apartment before eviction proceedings would begin. Both lawyers, they were fighting it; but they lived in a multiunit dwelling, the litmus test of responsibilities and rights that apartments in private homes, like Alice and Mike’s — no, Julius Pollack’s — lacked. Their lease with Joey had expired and Pollack was under no obligation to renew it. Alice and Mike had hard decisions to make now: should they undergo the exorbitant and exhaustingproject of moving twice, first to a rental, then to a house they owned? Put the kids, and themselves, through all that? Or dig in their heels and demand the time they needed to move just once to some place they could rightly call their home? Alice needed facts. Where was Lauren? Surely she could offer sage legal advice and also commiserate over the shock and humiliation of being summarily tossed out of your home.
    As the minutes ticked by, Alice’s disappointment grew at the missed opportunity to quietly dissect the new development with Lauren. It would be hard to discuss the notice in front of the kids. She had already spoken with Mike on the phone and they had agreed not to worry the children until it was figured out. Alice and Lauren would have to break their conversation into bits, fitting it into random pockets of privacy during the children’s after-school playground time. It was better than nothing.
    She carried Lauren’s soggy cup of iced decaf with her, just in case she did come soon, and walked across the street to the entrance of P.S. 58, where parents and babysitters had gathered in force. The kindergarteners came out first, led single file by their teacher. Peter and Austin were at the end of the line, holding hands; they had been best friends almost from birth and were said to be inseparable in class. Alice knelt down to their eye level and kissed both boys hello.
    “How was school?” she asked Peter, shifting forward to plant an extra kiss on her son’s irresistibly soft cheek.
    “Good.”
    “How was school for you?” she asked Austin. He had Lauren’s light brown hair, cut short, and tufted after a day at school.
    “Good.”
    “What did you guys do today?”
    “Good,” Peter said, drawing giggles from Austin.
    Alice stood up and scanned the crowd for Lauren. It was chaotic; she could easily be missed. Alice didn’t see her but there was no point sending up alarms quite yet. She would just stand here until Nell came out, and