The beach was unusually crowded for it being so late in the afternoon. Stuart let go of Anna’s hand and checked his watch. Any minute, the lifeguards would lower their stands and come in for the night.
“What if she’s not here?” Anna gasped.
From across the beach, Stuart could already tell the stand was vacant. Like Stuart, Robert was off for the day, so Stuart watched as two subs tipped the stand backward into the sand.
“Hey, guys!” he called as he made his way toward them. “You see a little girl this afternoon? Dark hair. Seven years old. She might have come around asking for me.”
“She was wearing a yellow-and-white gingham dress,” Anna offered.
The young men looked at each other, as if they were trying to do a quick inventory of the thousands of small children who had required their attention. One of them said, “The beach was packed today, so I can’t say for sure. But no one came asking for you.”
“Dear God,” said Anna, moving a hand to her mouth. “What if she went swimming?”
“She hates swimming,” Stuart reminded her matter-of-factly, and watched as Anna’s face brightened.
“Where else could she be?” he asked her.
Anna listed off several places: the incubator exhibition, the plant, Fannie and Isaac’s apartment—although she was sure Gussie didn’t have a key.
They made their way from one place to the next as quickly as possible. “Does she know Isaac’s gone?” Stuart asked Anna as they tried the door to the apartment.
“I think so,” she said. “Isaac came to talk to her before he left.”
“And he told her he was leaving?”
“He must have. She wouldn’t talk to me about it, though.”
“What about the train station?”
“Right, he took the train—”
“No, I mean, Gussie,” said Stuart. “Could she be at the train station?”
Anna stopped, looked at him, and took off down the stairs at a sprint.
By the time they arrived at the station, the sun was low in the sky, and Stuart’s heart was hammering in his chest. He paused in front of a newsstand to catch his breath and wait for Anna to catch up with him but when she did, she blazed past him, through the big front doors and into the station building. Stuart hurried in behind her and watched as she ran through the lobby to the waiting room. She scanned the wooden benches and luggage stands, then stopped to ask a depot agent if he’d seen a little girl matching Gussie’s description. Stuart scanned the room quickly, then yelled to Anna, “I’ll check the platforms.”
He jogged through the station building to the train shed, where several hulking trains sat, ready to board. At the sight of them, Stuart’s pulse quickened. The trains blocked his sight line, making it impossible to scan the platforms with any ease. He picked a platform and ran to the end of it, skirting waylaid luggage and clusters of passengers and standers-by. No Gussie.
Stuart tried another platform and was about to give up and turn around when he saw a small figure sitting on a bench at the farthest end of the platform. It was a girl, clad in a pale dress, clutching a leather valise. From this far away, he couldn’t make out her face but he knew she had to be Gussie. He looked for Anna over his shoulder but she wasn’t behind him.
“Harp-ave arp-I carp-aught yarp-ou arp-at arp-a barp-ad tarp-ime?” he asked when he had come to a complete stop, a few feet away from her. He gauged the distance between them—close enough to reach out and grab her, if the occasion demanded. She looked up at him in surprise and began to cry.
“I’m terrible at ARP talk,” she said, between sobs. Stuart sank to his knees beside her and grabbed one of her hands.
“Not to worry, Gus,” he said, switching to regular, old English. “You’re fine.”
She wiped her nose with the back of her free hand.
“I heard yesterday was a bad day.”
She nodded her head vigorously and snorted several times. “Look,” she said, staring over his shoulder. At the end of a nearby platform stood Anna. Her hair had dried in the late afternoon sun, and it hung in loose waves, which she pushed out of her face with her hand. God, she was glorious. Stuart and Gussie shouted and waved at her, and she waved back, excitedly, before disappearing behind a train and out of view.
“I bet she’ll make it over here in record time,” said Stuart. “She’s very eager to see you.”
“She is?”
“Sure, she’s been a wreck all afternoon.”
Gussie looked down at her hands, which were folded in her lap. She seemed embarrassed.
“What was your plan, Gus?” Stuart asked, glancing behind him to check on Anna’s progress. She was already halfway down the platform.
“I thought I’d go to Florida.”
“With your father?”
She nodded solemnly. “But it’s tricky to figure out which train to get on.”
“I agree, said Stuart. “That’s why I rarely leave town.”
Gussie looked ever-so-slightly amused. “That’s not why. Adults know how to take trains.”
Stuart stuck a thumb in his chest. “Not this one.”
Anna flew past Stuart, nearly knocking him over in her urgency to get to Gussie. When she reached her, she squeezed Gussie’s face between her hands and rested her forehead against hers. Together, they rocked back and forth, Anna muttering thanks to God and Stuart in equal measure.
“She was considering a trip to Florida,” said Stuart, when Anna had released Gussie and returned to herself.
“Oh, Gussie,” said Anna, stroking the child’s hair.
“I didn’t have enough for a ticket,” Gussie said, holding out a handful of change, wrapped in Anna’s handkerchief.
“I know this isn’t easy, but you can’t give up on Atlantic City,” said Stuart. “Not when so many people love you and need you here.”
“Nobody needs me,” said Gussie as she hugged the valise to her chest.
“That’s not true,” said Stuart. “I do. And Anna does,
