mother and father as the sun slowly sank to the earth. Afterwards, lying in her bed while her mother stroked her hair, softly singing her to sleep.
Please Travis. Come home
.
10:00 A.M .
A nn stepped into the house and dropped to the floor. She and her husband had just given the press conference on their front lawn. Strangers and television crews alike had gasped when Richard announced a five hundred thousand-dollar cash reward for Travis’s safe return. Ann was grateful Richard had answered the reporters’ questions. She could barely keep the weight in her heart from buckling her knees, as it was.
Richard shut the front door and knelt beside her. What kind of mother would leave her child alone in the dark when a stalker had threatened to take him? The answer—a negligent mother—brought more tears to Ann’s eyes.
Her husband helped her up. Together, they moved toward the family room. On the sofa, Richard held her close, stroking her hair gently like her mother used to do when she was very young. “We’ll get him back, Annie. We’ll get him back.”
Ever since she met him, nineteen years ago, Richard was Ann’s rock. When she stumbled, he was there to lift her up. She remembered their early days together in Cambridge, after she graduated from Smith College. The one-bedroom apartment they shared on the ground floor of a rickety house off Mass Avenue. Early morning walks along the Charles river. Cozy nights snuggled in bed. Summer weekends in Maine, lounging on the beach or on their friends’ boat. When Richard accepted a position at a start-up in San Diego, they packed their few belongings and moved west. The adventure of life continued as they settled into a beachfront condo on La Jolla Shores. They could barely afford the rent but they had high hopes of earning more. And they did. Richard’s biotechnology company went public, netting them a small fortune. Ann’s reputation as an expert in classical art was growing. They bought a house, a fixer in a prime neighborhood. Over the years, they turned it into their dream home filled with natural light, wood, and marble.
Before Travis arrived, Ann’s vision of motherhood was limited to the fun things. She had never babysat as a teenager. No younger siblings tohelp with—she was an only child. She imagined herself cuddling with her baby, nursing him, dressing him, and pampering him with toys. She planned to stay home with her son until he started school. She didn’t expect to want to return to work after a year.
Her days before Travis was born had been filled with the buying and selling of Renaissance paintings and sculptures for well-heeled customers of the San Diego auction house where she worked. She had tried to fill her time at home by making new friends, but the young mothers, from the playgroups she and Travis had joined, bored her. For the most part these women were glad to be done with the working world, happy to be at home with their babies. The one close friend she made during that time moved to London with her family when Travis was two, leaving Ann feeling lonelier than ever. Her parents deceased, and Richard’s living in France, Ann felt there was no one she could turn to for help with Travis. The thought of leaving him with strangers only made her more anxious. Overwhelmed at finding herself in a situation for which she was ill prepared, she became depressed.
Richard had encouraged her to try a nanny service. “There’s nothing to worry about. They do background checks on these women,” he had countered when Ann resisted. “You’re driving everyone crazy. And don’t think Travis can’t sense your stress.” Still, Ann refused.
When Travis was four, it was Ann’s new friend, Nora March, who convinced Ann that her unhappiness was hurting her family. For some reason hearing the same from Richard hadn’t done the trick. “Why don’t you open that art gallery you keep talking about?” Nora had said. “You can make your own hours, and
Please Travis. Come home
.
10:00 A.M .
A nn stepped into the house and dropped to the floor. She and her husband had just given the press conference on their front lawn. Strangers and television crews alike had gasped when Richard announced a five hundred thousand-dollar cash reward for Travis’s safe return. Ann was grateful Richard had answered the reporters’ questions. She could barely keep the weight in her heart from buckling her knees, as it was.
Richard shut the front door and knelt beside her. What kind of mother would leave her child alone in the dark when a stalker had threatened to take him? The answer—a negligent mother—brought more tears to Ann’s eyes.
Her husband helped her up. Together, they moved toward the family room. On the sofa, Richard held her close, stroking her hair gently like her mother used to do when she was very young. “We’ll get him back, Annie. We’ll get him back.”
Ever since she met him, nineteen years ago, Richard was Ann’s rock. When she stumbled, he was there to lift her up. She remembered their early days together in Cambridge, after she graduated from Smith College. The one-bedroom apartment they shared on the ground floor of a rickety house off Mass Avenue. Early morning walks along the Charles river. Cozy nights snuggled in bed. Summer weekends in Maine, lounging on the beach or on their friends’ boat. When Richard accepted a position at a start-up in San Diego, they packed their few belongings and moved west. The adventure of life continued as they settled into a beachfront condo on La Jolla Shores. They could barely afford the rent but they had high hopes of earning more. And they did. Richard’s biotechnology company went public, netting them a small fortune. Ann’s reputation as an expert in classical art was growing. They bought a house, a fixer in a prime neighborhood. Over the years, they turned it into their dream home filled with natural light, wood, and marble.
Before Travis arrived, Ann’s vision of motherhood was limited to the fun things. She had never babysat as a teenager. No younger siblings tohelp with—she was an only child. She imagined herself cuddling with her baby, nursing him, dressing him, and pampering him with toys. She planned to stay home with her son until he started school. She didn’t expect to want to return to work after a year.
Her days before Travis was born had been filled with the buying and selling of Renaissance paintings and sculptures for well-heeled customers of the San Diego auction house where she worked. She had tried to fill her time at home by making new friends, but the young mothers, from the playgroups she and Travis had joined, bored her. For the most part these women were glad to be done with the working world, happy to be at home with their babies. The one close friend she made during that time moved to London with her family when Travis was two, leaving Ann feeling lonelier than ever. Her parents deceased, and Richard’s living in France, Ann felt there was no one she could turn to for help with Travis. The thought of leaving him with strangers only made her more anxious. Overwhelmed at finding herself in a situation for which she was ill prepared, she became depressed.
Richard had encouraged her to try a nanny service. “There’s nothing to worry about. They do background checks on these women,” he had countered when Ann resisted. “You’re driving everyone crazy. And don’t think Travis can’t sense your stress.” Still, Ann refused.
When Travis was four, it was Ann’s new friend, Nora March, who convinced Ann that her unhappiness was hurting her family. For some reason hearing the same from Richard hadn’t done the trick. “Why don’t you open that art gallery you keep talking about?” Nora had said. “You can make your own hours, and
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