Left Neglected

“I don’t have to imagine the worst to go there. I can remember it. Sometimes kids survive. And sometimes they don’t.”

Sarah panics when she finds a bead in Linus’s mouth, thinking about how he could have choked on it. At this point, the reader does not understand the source of her tendency to imagine the worst in these situations or why she says that sometimes children do not survive. This passage foreshadows the most tragic event of Sarah’s life, the defining moment of her childhood: her brother Nate’s drowning death. His death emotionally scarred Sarah and makes her fear similar accidents with her own children.

“As I grope around for the phone, I touch my laptop, crayons, pens, my wallet, lipstick, keys, Goldfish crackers, a juice box, business cards, tampons, a diaper, receipts, Band-Aids, a Handi Wipes container, a calculator, and folders stuffed with papers.” 

The first chapters examine the chaotic nature of Sarah’s life, as she attempts to juggle her work and family life. The contents of her bag are a microcosm of her world, full of items that reflect both her work and parental duties. This passage also shows Sarah’s preoccupation with her phone, when she should be concentrating on driving, which foreshadows how she is on her phone when her accident occurs.

“I’m one of the only women playing at this level, and I don’t ever want to see that look in one of the partners’ eyes. There it is. She just banged her head on the ceiling. We’ve maxed her out. Go see if Carson or Joe can handle this one.”

Part of Sarah’s obsession with productivity is that she feels that, as a woman in a highly male-dominated company, she is under additional pressure to prove herself. It is especially difficult for Sarah, as a working mother, to prove that she does not need to be on a “Mommy track,” that she is capable of accomplishing just as much, if not more, than a man not expected to be responsible for parenting duties.