“How have you been able to cope with that?” Mike asked gently.
“At first, I was terribly angry and resentful. That was why I took the job in London, at the International School. I wanted to get away. For a long time I was completely bitter. But one day I woke up and realized I was ruining my life by not accepting what happened. And then I realized my being angry and bitter wasn’t going to change anything. As hard and unfair as things can be, I had to move on or else I’d go crazy.”
“I’m glad you made that choice. I’m sure that’s what your fiancé would have wanted you to do.”
“I agree.” For a moment Aline was lost in thought. Then her expression brightened. “I just realized something. I was sure you looked familiar the first time I saw you at my parents’ house. In my freshman year in high school my girlfriends and I went to see the spring play at St. Joe’s. They were doing West Side Story. By any chance were you in it?”
“I’ve just met a girl named Mah-REEE-ahh,” Mike began to sing softly.
“It was you! I love that song. You were so good. I’m a pretty good soprano. I’d sing it along with you, but I don’t want us to get thrown out of the bar.”
“If they don’t like that one, we could do ‘Danny Boy’ instead.”
Aline laughed, a genuine laugh. It made her realize it was the first time she had felt really good in a long time.
40
The morning after his arraignment Alan woke up groggy with sleep. He had had a vivid dream involving Kerry and the last minutes he was with her. For a moment he had hesitated after he walked around the house. Kissing her goodbye. The funeral. Kerry asking him, “Alan, why are you wearing handcuffs?” Reporters. Questions shouted at him.
When he opened his eyes, it was 7:45. As his brain cleared, the reality of what had happened leapt into his mind. What will happen next? I’m supposed to go to Princeton tomorrow.
He looked across the room at his half-packed suitcase. Will I be able to finish packing? he wondered as he headed for the shower.
When he went downstairs, his mother and father were sitting at the kitchen table having coffee. They both looked as though they’d had a lousy night’s sleep. Worrying about me, of course, he thought bitterly. His father’s laptop was open in front of him.
Looking up from the computer, he greeted him with a question. “Alan, have you checked your email this morning?”
“No, why?”
His mother and father looked at each other. She said, “Alan, your father and I received an email from Princeton. You were copied on it. It was from the dean of admissions. They urgently need to schedule a teleconference with the three of us today.”
“Today?” Alan said. “So that means they want to talk to us before we drive down there tomorrow. They’re probably going to say they changed their minds and are rejecting me.”
“Alan,” his father said, “let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I replied that we will speak to them at nine this morning.”
“Should we ask Lester Parker if he should be on the call?” June asked.
“Let’s see what they have to say before we start getting lawyers involved,” Doug said.
Alan was sure he would not be driving to Princeton tomorrow. He did not voice that to his mother or father, although he could tell from their faces that that was what they thought too. He remembered how they had hammered into him the need to have good marks. All because they believed graduating from an Ivy League school sets you up for life. Now Princeton is going to tell him to stay home.
His mother suggested making him French toast, his favorite. Her tone reminded him of the time she offered him ice cream after he had his tonsils out. Despite everything, he was hungry.
“Okay, thanks,” he said.
They had breakfast in complete silence. At one minute before nine, his father dialed into the teleconference number provided in the email. He put the phone on speaker.
David Willis introduced himself as Princeton’s director of admissions. “I also have on the call with me Lawrence Knolls, chief counsel to Princeton University.”
Perfunctory greetings were exchanged before Willis came to the point.
“Alan, we are aware of the unfortunate circumstances in which you find yourself. We have come to the conclusion that it would be in the best interest of all parties if you were to defer enrollment until your personal situation is satisfactorily resolved.”
June said, “But we are planning to drive him for freshman registration tomorrow.”
“I know that Mrs. Crowley. That is why we are speaking today.”
Doug jumped in. “You said, ‘if you were to defer enrollment.’ Is this Alan’s choice, or are you telling us this is what he has to do?”
“I’m sorry if I was not clear. It would be awkward under the present circumstances for Alan to take his place in the freshman class.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” June demanded.
This time it was the attorney who responded. “It means when all of the charges against Alan have been dismissed, he can apply for readmission.”
“I told you we should have had Lester Parker on this call,” June interrupted, glaring at Doug.
“We will refund to you the money you have sent to date,” Willis added.
Alan asked, “How did you find out about what happened to me?”
Lawrence Knolls answered, “We make an effort to keep track of our incoming freshmen, but I will not answer more specifically than that.”
? ? ?
When the call ended, Knolls dialed Willis, who picked up immediately. He said, “David, I guess that went as well as could be expected.”
“Do you think they’ll challenge our decision?”
“I doubt it. Any lawyer who reviews our terms of acceptance will see that our moral turpitude clause gives us wide latitude regarding whom we allow to enroll.”
“By the way,” Willis added, “our news monitoring service appears to have worked. I got an email from the PR firm this morning. They attached the article from a northern New Jersey paper about ‘Princeton-bound’ Alan Crowley being arrested for murder.”
“Well, that’s reassuring that they picked it up,” Knolls said.
“Yes, it is,” Willis agreed.
In this case the monitoring service had not been necessary. Two calls about Alan Crowley had already been made to the university’s Office of Admissions. The first was polite, almost apologetic. The second was a very angry caller who questioned the type of student Princeton was admitting nowadays.
41
As the days passed, Marge became more and more concerned about Jamie. Usually sunny in the morning and looking forward to going to work, he had become very silent. In her attempts at conversation, he invariably brought up Kerry’s name. “Kerry’s in Heaven with Daddy. I want to go there too.”
“You will someday, but not for a long time. I need you here with me, Jamie.”
“You can come up with us too.”
Another time out of the blue he asked, “In Heaven, do people go swimming like Kerry did?”
“Maybe.” Dear God, please don’t let him keep bringing up Kerry’s name, Marge begged. She tried to change the subject. “Now that football has started again, are you looking forward to going and watching the practices?”
“They’re big guys too.”
“Does anyone call you Big Guy, Jamie?”
“Daddy did.”
“I know. Anybody else?”
Jamie smiled. “I call myself the Big Guy.”
Despairing, Marge thought, It’s only a matter of time before he talks to somebody and gets himself in trouble.
42
Aline began to fall into the welcome pattern of busy days at school. True to her promise to Mike, she tried to make a point of meeting the seven girls who had been at the party but had not spoken to the police. She was making slow progress before help came from an unexpected source, Pat Tarleton, who stopped into her office one morning.
“Good morning, Aline. How are things at home?”
Aline sighed. “Okay, I guess.”
“Anything wrong?” Pat asked.
“Last night at dinner my mother and I got into a,” she paused, “let’s say we had a frank exchange of viewpoints.”