There was no good reason for this, but the sunlight that came through my windows looked cheerful and kind, and my heart was light. As I washed and dressed and made up my bed, I planned my day with something close to relish—a morning of work, a good lunch at the cafeteria, more work, then Vivian. The previous morning’s scene with Officers Peterson and Ten Brink seemed distant and small, unworthy of the agony it had caused, like a childhood illness. I had survived it, and as far as I knew so had my mother. It was survivable.And I did have a good day, though I was distracted while working by the sound of branches tapping insistently against the library windows, and by a restlessness I could not quite contain. I kept getting up, looking out at the lake, sitting down again, getting up. I left early for lunch. I bought a hot sandwich at the cafeteria, brought it down to the lake, and ate it on the dock. The wind had picked up and the waves were tipped white.Though it had begun to rain by the time I left to meet Vivian’s bus, I had enough of a good mood left not to mind that I was dressed poorly for the weather.
