Free Shadows on the Ivy by Lea Wait Page A

Center, a day-care center for the children of students and members of the college staff, was a small, bright green building near the gym. Its grassy playground, now browned by November cold, was surrounded by a high fence, giving it the appearance of a secure army base, with swings and slides added for attempted camouflage. Inside the rooms were warm and bright, the walls painted in primary colors and covered by children’s crayoned drawings.
    Maggie gave her name at the reception desk just inside the front door. Her college identification card got her inside, but she knew it wouldn’t be enough to let her take Aura home. Each parent had on file a limited list of people who could, after showing their identification and signing, take their children out of the building. The parents at Whitcomb House had made arrangements so that any of them could drop off or pick up any of their children. Other than that, pickups were limited to biological parents and perhaps one trusted neighbor or older sibling. Too many national newspaper reports of kidnapped or missing children had resulted in security here being far tighter than anywhere else on campus. Too bad security hadn’t been as heavy as this at the Whitcombs’ house last night.
    “Professor Summer? Welcome. Aura is in the Bunny Room, on the left, but most of the children there are taking naps now. Let me check with one of the aides.”
    Maggie nodded, looking at the rows of brightly painted lockers that lined the hallway, their owners’ names pasted in large block letters on colored poster board. Aura’s locker was red, with her name in yellow. A small, pink fleece jacket hung inside it.
    The receptionist was back in a few minutes, holding Aura by the hand. Kayla and Tiffany had done their job well. Aura was dressed neatly in denim overalls with a long-sleeved, orange T-shirt. Her curly hair was mussed, as though she’d been rolling on it.
    “Look who wasn’t sleeping after all! Aura, do you remember Professor Summer?”
    Aura nodded. “Hi.”
    “Hi, Aura.” Maggie knelt down so that she and Aura were on the same level. Aura smelled of baby shampoo and breakfast cereal. Maggie resisted the impulse to smooth her unruly curls. Aura was a beautiful child. And one with a bigger problem than any four-year-old could imagine.
    “Did you come to take me to Mommy? Kayla said Mommy was sick.”
    “Yes. She is sick, Aura. But the doctors are taking care of her. I can’t take you to see her right now. I promise to tell her that I saw you and that you have a beautiful smile.”
    Aura smiled a little back. “When can I see Mommy? When can Mommy come home?”
    “Soon, I hope, Aura. Very soon. But Kayla and Tiffany and the other people at your house will be with you after school.”
    A tear straggled down Aura’s face. “I don’t want them. I want Mommy.”
    Maggie reached out, and Aura stepped into her arms. “I know, Aura. I know. And Mommy wants to come home to you, too. But she has to get better first. It’s going to take time.”
    The girl’s arms around her neck felt warm and trusting. Maggie wanted to hold her forever, to keep anything else from hurting her.
    Aura stepped back. “Mommy misses me, I think. She always misses me when she’s away, even when the away is just a little.”
    “I’m sure she does. But you have to be big and brave for her and know she loves you, even if she isn’t here to tell you herself.” Maggie felt her eyes filling. It wouldn’t help for Aura to see her crying. She stood up.
    “That’s what Kayla said. That I should be brave.”
    “Kayla was right. Now, you go and take your nap with the other boys and girls, and I’ll do everything I can to bring your mommy home.” If only she could. How could anyone have done something to separate this little girl and her mother who had only each other? Maggie’s anger almost took over her voice. “I promise.”
    “I’m going to lie down, then. Mommy’s lying down, too, isn’t she?