Seven Minutes to Noon

soon disappear. And she lay there, searching her mind for avenues to Ivy, any thought or memory or clue that might help the police track the baby down. Was there anything, any small detail lodged in her mind — a memory, a remark — that might hint at such greedy brutality? Who could have done such an awful thing? Was it someone who knew Lauren? Or a random snare of evil she had stumbled into? Alice lay on her bed, wishing she had never left her dark bedroom this morning. Through the open curtains she watched a lush green tree juggle coins of sunlight outside her window. Only when the doorbell rang just before two o’clock did she get up.
    As soon as she opened the front door, Lizzie put down her suitcase and stepped inside. She had lost weight, cut her hair very short and bleached it white-blond in her quest to appear younger than her sixty-one years. She wore new calico rectangular glasses and bright red lipstick. But she didn’t look young; she looked like herself. Beautifully real and consistent under the layers of effort and California glitz.
    “Come here, babydoll.”
    Stepping into her mother’s arms, Alice smelled the familiar perfume and felt her face screw up reflexively. A lurching breath threatened more tears.
    Lizzie drew Alice against her, murmuring, “Come here, come here, come here.”

Chapter 12
    Nell and Peter were ecstatic to see their grandmother waiting for them outside school at three o’clock. Bypassing Alice, they flew at Lizzie, who fell to the knees of her white slacks and embraced both children at once. They doused her in a rain of chatter all the way to Sweet Matilda’s, where they were being treated to a “fancy snack.” Alice phoned Mike’s cell to let him know where to find them, leaving a message on his voice mail. She didn’t really mind that the delivery had taken longer than expected, but she had begun to miss him and to entertain a tiny, unfamiliar sense of abandonment at his decision not to stay with her that morning.
    High tea arrived on a tiered tray of crustless sandwiches, petit fours, droplet cookies, muffins and scones. Alice and Lizzie shared a pot of chamomile tea. The children snuggled on either side of Lizzie on the wall bench while Alice sat alone in a chair, facing them. In her heart, she wanted to be over there in her mother’s lap too. But this was good enough. Just being here together. Every now and then Lizzie sent Alice a kiss through the air.
    “How long are you staying, Gamma?” Nell asked. Lizzie was Gamma to both children, starting with Nell’s early attempts to say Grandma. When Peter learned to talk, he had automatically adopted the nickname.
    “Just two nights, sweets. Gamma’s got business inLA.” She kissed the top of Nell’s messy strawberry head, then stayed fair by kissing Peter’s chocolate mop.
    “Really, Mom?” Alice said, failing to hold back her disappointment. “You came so far.”
    “This is nothing,” she said. “I’d travel to China for just one meal with my family.”
    “Can’t you stay a little longer? You could help me look at houses,” Alice said, thinking a project might attract her.
    “How’s that going?” Lizzie nibbled off an edge of lemon poppy muffin, leaving a batch of crumbs stuck to her lower lip.
    “Two new businesses and now a new house,” Alice said. “If we’d kept our old jobs, it’d be a cinch to afford whatever we wanted. Almost.”
    “You two did the right thing, changing your lives.” Lizzie cleaned the crumbs off her lip with a napkin, leaving behind a lipstick kiss. “This tragedy with Lauren just proves it. It can all change in one second” — she snapped her fingers — “just like that.”
    Alice’s heart began to sink, again, at the thought of Lauren. Why had she mentioned the house hunt? There was no way she could traipse around looking at homes, chatting with brokers, running calculations through her mind for the perfect, winning numbers. Not yet. Mr. Pollack, owner, would have to understand.
    “What about that broker Maggie’s babysitter hooked you up with?” Lizzie asked. “You had such a good feeling about that one.”
    “Never mind, Mom.” Alice broke a corner off a scone, then returned it to the plate. “I can’t deal with it right now, anyway.”
    “How can you not deal with it?”
    “Mom—”
    “You have a family. Do not allow this to turn into yet another crisis.” Lizzie tilted her chin proudly up, the angle briefly magnifying her eyes behind