“Fearful, unable to concentrate, I put reading aside and haul out two yellowing photo albums from Mother’s slovenly bookshelf. I look at baby pictures of Isaac. In them, I never fully face the camera. I focus down on the baby, or away, at some off-site distraction. There are several of Fowler and Isaac sitting in the chair I sit in now, and there is one of the three of us, a momentary family, with the rock and castle background of the Delacorte Theater in Central Park. We’re warmly dressed, but ...the ground is free of snow. It must have been March, a week or two before Fowler left me in the lurch. I show no signs of suspicion that this is about to occur.Even in the best moments, since before the births of my children, there has been fear. I don’t remember, even in the whirlwind of finding Simon, a minute without it. Mother and Daddy are edgy people, so I’m sure I became afraid at a young age. I’m not sure I knew the safety others may have known, the ones with parents glued together throughout the years, in all the Christmas photos, at the school plays and Saturday birthday parties.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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