Danielle Steel - Southern Lights

Savannah had a map of the campus that she used to tell her mother where to go, once they got to Princeton. They had to leave the van in a parking lot. And Savannah used Nassau Hall, the oldest building on campus, and Cleveland Tower behind it, as their main landmarks to figure out the rest. Her room was in Butler Hall, and they found it after walking around for a few minutes and asking people where it was. Her room was on the second floor. And it took them two hours to get everything into her room and organized. They still had to hook up the stereo and the computer, but all else was in place, and the roommate’s parents were doing the same thing. Her father helped Alexa with the computer. And the girls were going to share a microwave and tiny refrigerator they rented for the room. Each girl had a phone line, a bed, a desk, a chair, and a chest of drawers. The closet space was minimal, and as Alexa struggled with it all, the two girls walked into the hallway to meet other students. In another hour, Savannah had been absorbed into dorm life and told her mother she could go.

“Don’t you want me to hang your clothes up?” Alexa asked, looking disappointed. She had just made the bed. They had brought some snacks too, and she thought they should buy more groceries. But Savannah was impatient to move on now, and meet the other students in the dorm and on campus. Her new life had just begun.

“No, Mom, I’ll be fine,” she said as the other girl did the same with her parents. “Honest. You can go.” It was a polite way of telling her to leave. Alexa hugged her close for a minute, and forced back tears.

“Take care of yourself…call me…”

“I will, I promise,” Savannah said as she kissed her, and Alexa smiled bravely as she left, but there were tears rolling down her cheeks when she reached the parking lot, and she wasn’t the only mother crying. It was wrenching, leaving her there. It was like setting a bird free after loving it and nurturing it for eighteen years. Were her wings strong enough? Would she remember how to fly? How would she feed herself? Savannah was ready for it, but Alexa wasn’t. She got into the van and started it, and cried all the way home. It was the final severing of the umbilical cord and felt like the worst day of her life.

Alexa felt as though someone had died when she dressed for work the next day. Her cell phone rang just before she left the apartment, and she thought it was Savannah. She had forced herself not to call her the night before. The number that showed up on her cell phone was blocked, and when she answered it was Sam Lawrence, not Savannah. She hadn’t talked to him since July and was pleased he was calling.

“That’s a surprise,” she said pleasantly. “How are you?”

“Pretty good.” He sounded busy and in good spirits. “Will you have lunch with me today?” he asked her. She really wasn’t in the mood.

“To be honest, I feel like shit. My kid left for college yesterday. I feel like my life is over. I suddenly became obsolete. I hate this. How about lunch next week? I’ll be in a better mood.” She didn’t want to see anyone right now. She was mourning Savannah’s childhood, a huge loss for her.

“Let’s have lunch today anyway. I can cheer you up.” She hoped this wasn’t a date of some kind, because she was even less in the mood for that, and they were work buddies, and that was all she wanted with him. She tried to weasel out of lunch some more, but he wouldn’t let her.

“Okay. I’ll meet you at the deli across the street. Maybe the food will kill me and I won’t have to worry about being depressed anymore.”

“You’ll feel better in a couple of weeks. You were fine when she was in Charleston during the trial,” he reminded her.

“No, I wasn’t. I missed her like crazy. But I was busy. I don’t have a hell of a lot going on right now.” He didn’t comment, but they agreed to meet at twelve-thirty.

He was there when she arrived, and he could see that she was miserable. Her hair was pulled back in a barely combed ponytail, and she hadn’t worn makeup, and had put on jeans for work. She looked like she was convalescing from an illness. She was pining for her child.

Sam made small talk with her for a few minutes, as they talked about how bad the food was, and then he smiled at her. “Maybe I have something to cheer you up,” he said hopefully. He hoped he wasn’t making a mistake meeting with her when she was in such low spirits. “I have a proposition for you,” he said mysteriously, as she looked at him with both curiosity and suspicion.

“What kind of proposition?”

He took a breath and said it. “A job.”

“What kind of job?” She frowned at him. “Like a case?” And then she laughed. “You guys have a case you want my help on? Now, that is a compliment!” She was very flattered that the FBI wanted her help, but they had worked well on the Quentin case together.

“Not a case, Alexa.” He smiled at her. “A job. We want to offer you a job with the OCG, the Office of the General Counsel of the FBI. It’s a desk job, not a field job, so you’re not going to be shooting bad guys. You know what the OCG does. They were all over our asses on the Quentin case. Only now you’d get to be the one bugging everyone else, watching everything, or taking the cases on yourself and kicking ass. They’re going to make you an official offer, but I wanted to talk to you about it first. I’ve been wanting this to happen since we worked together on the Quentin case. I think you’ve done it in the DA’s office. This could be a really exciting career move for you. The benefits are great, it’s interesting, and hell, it’s the FBI.” She’d never even thought of that before. Not once. She assumed she’d be in the DA’s office till she retired.

“Here? In New York?” she asked, still looking amazed. It was definitely a prestigious job, and a huge compliment to be asked.

“No,” Sam said awkwardly, “in Washington, D.C. But your kid is gone, Alexa. As far as I know, you don’t have a guy in your life. Why not Washington, D.C.?”

“My mother is here,” she said, looking distracted and confused. It was a lot to absorb all at once. New job, new city, new life.

“New York is three hours away by train. It’s not a big deal. It’s not Venezuela, for chrissake.”

“No, it isn’t. What’s the money like? Better than what I make now?”

“Yes.” He smiled at her. “You can’t lose on this one. And if you hate it, you can always come back here. But you won’t want to. You’ve done this. It’s over for you. You’re burned out, and you know it.” She had been feeling that way before the Quentin case, and that had spiced things up for a while. Now she was back to robberies and shoplifters, drug busts, and the occasional murder. She missed having something more important to do. “Will you think about it?”

“Yes.” She nodded, smiling, and feeling a lot less depressed than she had an hour before. She was scared but excited. “I thought you were asking me out on a date.” She laughed then.

“I can do that too.” He grinned at her. “I didn’t think you’d go out with me if I asked, or I would have.”

“I wouldn’t. I don’t go out with guys I work with. I did that once. It was stupid and a mess, so I don’t.”

“I figured.” He had guessed correctly from the vibes she put out that she was only interested in being buddies while they worked together. And he saw her treat Jack that way too. “Just take the job. They want you, and you’ll love it. You need something new in your life. Maybe a guy too.”

She shrugged. “You sound like my mother. And my daughter.”

“Maybe you should listen to them.” She laughed again, and they spent the rest of lunch talking about the OCG.