A/N: So this was inspired by It's Quiet Uptown from Hamilton which I ugly cry to on a regular basis because not only does it give me sad Hamilton feels it also makes me think about the Lyman family after Joanie's death. I'm sure there are an embarrassing number of mistakes but it's almost 3:30 am and I've sort of stopped caring about things. I might come back and edit this when I'm not running on fumes ^_~

November 18, 1969

It was Noah Lyman's first day back at work since his daughter's death.

The firm had been extremely sympathetic, had told him to take as much time off as he needed. They'd promised to farm his cases out, everything would be taken care of.

His colleagues felt guilty despite Joanie's death being no fault of theirs; Noah and Ada had been at a dinner party for the partners and their wives the night it happened after all. They'd all been there to witness when Noah and Ada received a phone call from Ada's father. Jacob Strauss lived in Hartford, a good hour away from Westport, but the terrible news had been relayed to him because the neighbors hadn't known where to reach Noah and Ada but had been certain that Ada's father would know where to find his daughter and son-in-law.

Everyone in the room had turned away awkwardly, not knowing what to do or how to help, when Noah had to explain to his wife for second time what had happened to their home and children. The only person who had found himself able to act had been Abe Hoffman, one of the senior partners; he had begun giving orders the moment Noah began to fish for his keys in his pocket and with strained voice had told them what the call had been about.

Abe gently removed the keys from Noah's grasp, had turned to two other partners in the firm, Chambliss and Bonetto, told them that he'd be driving Ada and Noah back to Connecticut and that they would be following him.

Noah was back at work in a flash, only gone long enough to sit Shiva. He felt a little guilty of course, being able to get away when his wife was forced to stay with her in-laws virtually all day.

Ada had started shutting everyone out, it wasn't particularly difficult. Her father and only cousin lived far enough away that it was easy to keep them at arm's length. Her father-in-law, David, though a kind man who she had a great deal of affection for, was not demonstrative so ignoring him had not presented much of a challenge for Ada. And Miriam, well aware of how meddlesome she could be, tried to remain invisible as she tried to lighten Ada and Noah's heavy load. Nothing Noah said seemed to be getting through to her, seven days since the funeral and all she could do was alternate between crying and stony silences whenever her husband would try to comfort her. Even eight year old Josh wasn't immune to Ada's attempts at distancing herself from everyone.

Josh had gone back at school the day before Noah had gone back to work, the boy needed to get back to something resembling normalcy. Noah had hugged his son too hard the morning he returned to school. He'd let him go when he'd felt Josh struggle against him, trying to keep his cheek away from Noah's unshaven face. Noah felt a pang in his chest as he released him and watched Josh rush over to Mr. Casper who was outside, standing beside his car, waiting to take Josh to school along with his boys.

Noah found his first gray hair shortly after that, while shaving nearly 8 days worth of scruff. He was surprised it had taken so long to start going gray, he was forty four and his curly hair had already started thinning but up until that morning he hadn't found a single gray hair.

Noah felt lost in his own home, there was no one for him to turn to and he had no idea how to help his wife and son. There was nothing left for him to do but to head back to work, so that was what he did.

But going back to work wasn't the balm he had hoped it would be.

The sad glances he had gotten, from the senior partners to the lowliest of paralegals, were suffocating and there was hardly any work on his desk for him to throw himself into. The people that had taken over Noah's cases were reluctant to hand the reins back over to him, they all thought he was back far too soon and they were afraid he wouldn't be able to manage his usual workload.

Only four hours in the office and Noah found that he couldn't take it anymore. He grabbed his coat and walked out of his office without a word to his secretary; he had no idea where he was going or when he'd be back.

North on 3rd.

West on E 58th.

Past buildings that contained the Spanish consulate, a Sephardi synagogue, and the 58th street library.

Up Park Avenue.

Left on E 61st, Loew's Regency.

One block and then right on Madison Avenue.

A cold gust of wind swirled around Noah, he hunched his broad shoulders and tugged at the collar of his wool coat that he'd left unbuttoned when he'd walked out of the skyscraper that housed Debevoise & Plimpton LLP.

Four blocks and left again, passing another consulate and another synagogue, this time the far more imposing Temple Emanu-El, heading straight for Central Park.

But instead of continuing straight he rounded the synagogue and continued up 5th Street.

He walked and he walked and he walked. Noah wasn't sure how many blocks he'd walked up 5th, couldn't even recall which block he turned on despite the large Romanesque Revival temple that marked the corner.

All he could think of was how much Joanie had loved coming into the city. He remembered her first concert, how she'd squealed when he'd told her that they would be going to see Leonard Bernstein in New York, how she'd fallen asleep on the train ride back to Westport; her record collecting had begun in earnest after that trip. He remembered the first time he had brought Joanie to Central Park after Josh had been born. She'd conducted the whole outing as if it was a tour and she was the guide, telling her toddler brother every little thing about the park, her dark pigtails bouncing as she trotted down the paths, shouting for her parents to push her brother's stroller faster.

Noah forced down the sob he felt coming and shoved his hands into his pockets. His fingers brushed against the torn piece of fabric he had forgotten was there.

He was so absorbed by the feeling of the rent cloth against his fingers and by the reason it was there that he nearly collided into someone. A startled Noah looked up and saw a man not much older than himself carrying a girl who must have been a year or two younger than Noah's son. He finally got a proper look at his surroundings and realized that he was standing outside of Mount Sinai Hospital.

Noah tried to form an apologetic smile and muttered an apology, hoping that he hadn't nearly bumped into what was considered the stereotypical brash New Yorker.

The man appeared to have taken no offense and returned Noah's smile. The little girl pulled out the lollipop that had been in her mouth and chirped "it's ok" and had even waved at Noah as her father carried her away.

At the sight of the child's smile he felt another sob rising but once again he forced it down.

Noah continued his march up 5th avenue, letting himself sink further into a sea of memories.