Together Alone by Barbara Delinsky Read Free Book Online

behind the overall shorts that hung loose from her shoulders, stepped into a pair of sneakers, and slipped out the door.
    The neighborhood was still. From the front gate, she looked down the chain of neat picket fences. No two segments were exactly alike in style, height, or state of repair, but they coalesced to form a ghostly trail that beckoned in the inert night air.
    She started down the street, leaving behind Myra’s house with its tiny nightlight glowing from an upstairs window, then the Wilsons’, the LeJeunes’, and the Hinkleys’. She studied the shadows as she walked—front yards, side yards, wooded thickets between—but nothing moved, nothing cried.
    At the end of China Pond Road, she turned right onto Walker, then left onto Sycamore until she came to LaGrange, where, at the high stone wall of the Berlo estate, she turned right again. A light mist had begun to fall, but her feet knew the way and weren’t stopping. Her eyes slipped between the elegant old Victorians she passed. She counted down as she had, pushing carriages so long ago—eight, seven, six, five—until she passed the last house and reached the corner.
    To her right, on the next block, was the hulk of the fire station, and tucked beside it, like a holstered weapon, the police station. She passed it by, then passed two blocks of stores. At the curb, heart pounding, she stopped.
    The post office was ahead, a pretty brick building that glittered in the mist, with a parking lot so roomy and open as to invite patrons to visit, and beyond the post office and the block of stores used by all yet considered no man’s land, was Grannick’s college half.
    Turn back , came a cry from inside, but her feet wouldn’t move. She was riveted to the sight of the students who, even in the mist, came from the campus for a late night cappucino or pizza.
    With a cry of raw envy and an even deeper sorrow, she whirled around and half-ran, half-walked back in the direction from which she’d come. She distracted herself by ticking off the stores she passed, one after another, one block, then the next. She was approaching the police station when a cruiser came from behind her and drew to a stop just ahead. She slowed as she reached it, then, with a breathless little sigh, stopped.
    “Hi, sweetheart,” came a kindly voice from the driver’s window.
    “Hi, John.”
    “Out for a walk?”
    She tucked her hands behind the bib of her overalls, looked out across the street, and shrugged. “Guess so.”
    “Startin’ to sprinkle,” he said in that same kindly voice, more friend than cop, more father than friend. “Climb in. I’ll give you a lift home.”
    Brushing the dampness from her eyes, she rounded the cruiser and slid into the front seat. Once they were on their way, she said, “It was too quiet at home. It made me think.”
    He drove slowly down the street. The wipers arced intermittently, allowing for a blurring before reality came clear.
    “Hard, with the girls gone,” he said.
    “Mmm. The days before they left were so busy. Now, nothing.”
    “Where’s Doug?”
    “Chicago.”
    “When’ll he be home?”
    “Thursday night.” The cruiser turned left off LaGrange at the Berlo estate, onto Sycamore. John studied the road ahead. Emily studied him. He wasn’t in uniform. “Why are you out so late?” she asked. He normally worked days, leaving nightly rounds to his deputies. “Is something wrong?”
    “No.”
    “Are you sure?”
    “I was restless. My place was quiet, too.”
    “What’s Kay doing?”
    “Reading.”
    Emily smiled fondly. “I shouldn’t have asked.”
    John made a right onto Walker and drove along at an exemplary pace. “She likes to read. Says it’s important. For school.”
    Kay had a successful career. Emily didn’t envy it exactly. But there was something to be said for having a whole other life. “She’s very good at what she does.”
    “Huh.” He turned left onto China Pond and cruised until he reached the house