Lucy caressed the creased piece of paper in her lap.  She shifted a bit to take pressure off her aching joints and relieve the persistent protest of her aging bones against the unyielding hardwood bench.  After settling into a slightly more comfortable position, she reread the short bedraggled note in her hand.

Mom,

I just wanted to let you know I’m planning on coming home for New Year’s Eve this year…so you’d get enough champagne to go around.  My train gets in at 4 pm so I’ll probably be feeling a bit puckish so you might want to plan some snacks for after you pick me up.  I know you like a late dinner on the holiday.

Yours,

Sarah

            Lucy forced herself to relax, smoothing the edges of the paper where it had started to wrinkle in her white knuckled grip and turning her attention resolutely back to the tracks.  She carefully folded the note and slipped it back into her purse, pulling her shawl tighter around her thin shoulders.  Her body was starting to ache again and she shifted self consciously.  She had to remind herself that a temporary way station such as this bench was not meant to be a permanent resting place for an old woman’s bones.  It wasn’t the bench’s fault her joints were sore.

            A light touch on her shoulder startled Lucy out of her reverie.

            “Mom, are you ready to head home yet?”  Mark slide into the empty space on her right and gave her a concerned look.  He’d driven her to the station at three thirty and had been stoic enough to keep his misgivings to himself for more than four hours.  Shortly before eight o’clock, when the third train from New York had already come and gone, he had decided to voice his first concerns about the reliability of his sister’s note.  That had been two hours ago.

            “No.  Not yet.”  Lucy shook her salt and pepper head and peered into the tunnel as if she could summon the proper train out of the darkness by sheer force of will.  “It’s only just ten o’clock now.  There’s still a chance she’ll catch the last train out and what would she think if we weren’t here to meet her.”

            “We’ve already waited six hours, Mom.  And you’ve called home twice to check the messages.  Don’t you think we should have heard something?”  Mark’s warm brown eyes were shadowed and his face was lined.  He’d been helping refinish the floor at the paper mill while it was shut down over the holiday weekend and had finished with just enough time to shower before picking her up this afternoon. 

            “Just a little longer,” Lucy persisted “after this next train we’ll go.”  She pulled out her purse.  Years of long habit had ingrained in her that the best possible method of distracting her children was this; she handed her son a five dollar bill.  “Here.  Be a sweetheart and run and get me a diet coke please.  Get yourself something nice as well.”

            Mark sighed and accepted the money.  Lucy watched his back as he walked away, broad and stable, like his father’s.  Sarah had always been the more precocious of her two children.  Always on her way somewhere, doing something grand and making her presence known.  Mark had been content to bring home good grades and take the occasional fishing trip with his father.  Sarah had been the adventurer running off to summer camps and sleepovers; signing up for various clubs and events.  She’d gone out for track in high school and soon discovered she loved cross country the best.  She’d starred as Peter Pan in her first play when she was still in junior high and hadn’t left the stage since.  Theater had drawn her to New York fresh out of college and Lucy, who had been to ever single event Sarah ever participated in, could understand her daughter’s need to follow her dream.  She could not, however, fathom what it was that had prevented Sarah from visiting, calling, or even writing for the past four years. 

            Mark returned and handed Lucy her Diet Coke.  He sank back onto the bench with a soft thud and set about polishing off the hot dog he’d picked up for himself.  It dawned on Lucy that neither of them had eaten since they’d gotten to the station.  “Oh honey.  I’m sorry we missed dinner.  Did you want anything else?”  She started to reach for her purse again, but Mark’s hand stayed hers.

            “It’s ok Mom.  This is fine for me.”  Mark looked like he wanted to say something else; however the rumble of the ten thirty train cut him short.

            Lucy perked up.  “Here she comes.  I just know it.”  She reassured herself under her breath.  She could already see Sarah in her mind, stepping down from the train with apologetic eyes as she’d start to explain.  I couldn’t get away any sooner.  I can’t believe you waited.  Six hours.  Have you been here the whole time?  I would have called but… Even in her own mind any excuses she could concoct for her wayward daughter fell apart.

            The train doors opened and Lucy leaned closer.  She studied each new face to pop specter like into the doors, scanning for familiar features among the weary passengers.  Every now and then someone with call out in happy recognition and Lucy would startle, turning as someone would step out of the patient throng of friends and family and embrace a much missed traveler.  She slowly slid back onto the bench and seemed to shrink into herself as the station started to empty and the last few passengers made their way out the doors.

            Something light settled onto Lucy’s head.  When she reached up her hand found a cardboard crown positively covered in glitter.  She glanced up as Mark’s hand settled on her shoulder and gave her a slight squeeze.

            “Happy New Year’s Eve, Mom.”  Mark’s voice was gentle.  He held out his hand.  “Let’s go home.  Dinner’s waiting.”

            After a moment Lucy settled the crown back on her head and took his hand, pulling herself up.

            “Alright, let’s see how well your father managed dinner by himself.”  Lucy readjusted her shawl and forced a smile as she stood.  “We can’t disappoint him and miss the champagne.”

            As Lucy was sliding her wallet back into her purse she noticed Sarah’s note.  She paused for a moment and Mark looked down at her curiously.  She gave a little shrug, then tucked her wallet in next to it and closed her purse resolutely.  She took her son’s arm and set a determined stride for the parking lot and home.