“And what did you do after you finished Michigan?”
“After I graduated, I realized I wanted to work in criminal justice. I got a master’s at John Jay in Manhattan. I was on the police force in Waldwick for a couple years before I got the position in the Prosecutor’s Office. This past June I finished a grueling four years of going to Seton Hall Law School at night.”
“You sound very ambitious. What are you going to do with your law degree?”
“The first thing I’m going to do is try to pass the bar exam. After that, I’m not sure. But if I want to move up the ladder in police work, having a law degree will be very helpful.”
“Have you worked with families like mine, where a family member was murdered?”
“In the six years I’ve been at the Prosecutor’s Office, unfortunately, many times.”
“As a guidance counselor, I’m supposed to be a bit of an expert on coping strategies. I know how bad it is for me, but I can see that my father and mother are torn apart. I wonder if anything will ever bring them peace.”
“When the trial is over and justice has been served, that’s when the real healing will start.”
“I hope so,” Aline said. “They certainly helped me when I was going through hell.”
At the query on Mike’s face, she told him about losing Rick to a drunk driver.
“What happened to the driver who killed him?”
“He was found not guilty because a friend lied for him. Nobody saw the accident. We really believe that his passenger, who was his friend and who hadn’t been drinking, switched places with him before the police arrived. Other witnesses who were at the party said that when he left, and this was just a few minutes before the accident, he had been drinking heavily and he had been driving. And it was his car. But I guess the jury just wasn’t sure, and they let him off.”
“Sometimes those things happen.”
Aline hesitated and then said, her voice quivering, “Right now he’s married, has two kids and a good job on Wall Street, and is living happily ever after.”
“How have you been able to cope with that?” Mike asked gently.
“At first, I was terribly angry and resentful. That was why I took the job in London, at the International School. I wanted to get away. For a long time I was completely bitter. But one day I woke up and realized I was ruining my life by not accepting what happened. And then I realized my being angry and bitter wasn’t going to change anything. As hard and unfair as things can be, I had to move on or else I’d go crazy.”
“I’m glad you made that choice. I’m sure that’s what your fiancé would have wanted you to do.”
“I agree.” For a moment Aline was lost in thought. Then her expression brightened. “I just realized something. I was sure you looked familiar the first time I saw you at my parents’ house. In my freshman year in high school my girlfriends and I went to see the spring play at St. Joe’s. They were doing West Side Story. By any chance were you in it?”
“I’ve just met a girl named Mah-REEE-ahh,” Mike began to sing softly.
“It was you! I love that song. You were so good. I’m a pretty good soprano. I’d sing it along with you, but I don’t want us to get thrown out of the bar.”
“If they don’t like that one, we could do ‘Danny Boy’ instead.”
Aline laughed, a genuine laugh. It made her realize it was the first time she had felt really good in a long time.
40
The morning after his arraignment Alan woke up groggy with sleep. He had had a vivid dream involving Kerry and the last minutes he was with her. For a moment he had hesitated after he walked around the house. Kissing her goodbye. The funeral. Kerry asking him, “Alan, why are you wearing handcuffs?” Reporters. Questions shouted at him.
When he opened his eyes, it was 7:45. As his brain cleared, the reality of what had happened leapt into his mind. What will happen next? I’m supposed to go to Princeton tomorrow.
He looked across the room at his half-packed suitcase. Will I be able to finish packing? he wondered as he headed for the shower.
When he went downstairs, his mother and father were sitting at the kitchen table having coffee. They both looked as though they’d had a lousy night’s sleep. Worrying about me, of course, he thought bitterly. His father’s laptop was open in front of him.
Looking up from the computer, he greeted him with a question. “Alan, have you checked your email this morning?”
“No, why?”
His mother and father looked at each other. She said, “Alan, your father and I received an email from Princeton. You were copied on it. It was from the dean of admissions. They urgently need to schedule a teleconference with the three of us today.”
“Today?” Alan said. “So that means they want to talk to us before we drive down there tomorrow. They’re probably going to say they changed their minds and are rejecting me.”
“Alan,” his father said, “let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I replied that we will speak to them at nine this morning.”
“Should we ask Lester Parker if he should be on the call?” June asked.
“Let’s see what they have to say before we start getting lawyers involved,” Doug said.
Alan was sure he would not be driving to Princeton tomorrow. He did not voice that to his mother or father, although he could tell from their faces that that was what they thought too. He remembered how they had hammered into him the need to have good marks. All because they believed graduating from an Ivy League school sets you up for life. Now Princeton is going to tell him to stay home.
His mother suggested making him French toast, his
