watch Michael climbing and swinging on the equipment, while Molly sat on one of the benches and read the
They were about to cross Central Park West when Molly glanced up at the crowd massed on the other side of the street.
She broke stride and her heart went cold.
A tall woman wearing a T-shirt, shorts, and jogging shoes emerged from the park and ran toward them, weaving through the people surging in unison now to cross the intersection as the light flashed Walk.
The woman’s face wasn’t discernible because of her long hair bouncing and swinging with each stride. But her running style was familiar, the effortless way she kicked far out with her tan, muscular legs, the graceful, easy manner in which she swung her arms.
Molly panicked and froze.
Then the woman was almost on them, hair flying, face of an angelic teenager. A young Audrey Hepburn.
She saw Molly staring, smiled curiously, and veered to run around them.
Molly returned the smile.
Then she and her husband and child continued their Sunday walk.
