A local woman missing- Mary Kubica

MEREDITH
11 YEARS BEFORE
March
Dinner is in the oven. With classes to teach in the afternoon, I got a
late start. Josh comes home from work with Delilah and Leo in tow,
having picked them up from Charlotte’s on the way home.
“How’d everything go with the kids?” I ask. What I really mean is
how did everything go with Leo. Delilah would have been fine,
because she’s always fine when she’s away from us. She’s playful
and unreserved, always able to find a friend. But I want to know how
Leo was when Josh picked him up. Had he stopped crying after I
left? Of course he had. Charlotte would have called and told me if he
hadn’t, wouldn’t she? I would have canceled my classes, gone back
and picked him up. It would have broken my heart for him to cry at
Charlotte’s all day.
“Everything was fine,” Josh says. He’s nonchalant about it. I have
the disadvantage of dropping Leo off. Of seeing him cry. Of having to
push him into another woman’s arms for comfort. Josh gets to be the
one to pick him up and bring him home.
“What were they doing when you got there?” I ask.
“Playing outside,” he says. This week is springlike: sunny, warm.
Winter has left us, though maybe not for good.
“How long until dinner will be ready?” he asks.
“About thirty minutes,” I tell him, asking how the pitch went today.
It went well, Josh says, grinning from ear to ear. They landed the
client.
“I meant to call,” he says, “but the afternoon got away from me.
There was a lot of celebrating.” I imagine they cracked open a bottle
of champagne after the deal was finalized. I can see how thrilled
Josh is, and I’m thrilled for him as a result.
“It’s fine,” I say. I go to him, feeling terrible that I didn’t think to do
something more special for him tonight, knowing when he left this