Lisa Scottoline - Save Me

It was a thicker nevus than most, and all the time, Rose had hated the message they were sending Melly. Their marriage cracked under it and other strains, mainly Bernardo’s partying, and they divorced when Melly was three years old. Bernardo was killed the very next year, crashing his Porsche, and around that time, Rose and Melly met Leo on the train. They’d fallen in love and married the next year, and she’d left the city to move to southeastern Pennsylvania, near where Leo had grown up in Worhawk. On her own, she felt free to help Melly accept herself, even after her fifth Halloween, when she wouldn’t take off her Dora the Explorer mask.

Mommy, I hate being me.

Rose stared at the ceiling, then closed her eyes, and her thoughts returned to the room above. She wondered if Eileen was holding Amanda right now, or if that wasn’t permissible in Intensive Care. She tried to put it out of her mind, but gave up. She eased Melly off her chest, rolled quietly out of bed, and left the room. The hallway was empty at this hour, and there was only one nurse behind the desk. Rose crossed the polished hall, and the nurse looked up.

“Oh my God, I know you!” The nurse’s eyes sparkled. She was young and tanned, with short, sunbleached hair and a line of gold studs in one ear. “You’re the mom who saved her daughter, aren’t you?”

“Well, yes.” Rose felt her face warm.

“I have a baby at home, and I give you so much credit. How’d you do it?”

“It’s a long story, but I’m wondering if you could help me.” Rose leaned on the desk. “There’s another little girl who was caught in the fire. Her name’s Amanda Gigot, and I was wondering how she’s doing. Last I heard, she was in Intensive Care with a head injury. Can you find out how she is?”

“Hold on.” The nurse turned to a computer keyboard and pressed a few keys. “She’s still in Intensive Care.”

“Is there any way I could get some details on how she’s doing, or maybe you can?”

“We’re not supposed to divulge that information.”

“Please?” Rose put her hands together in mock prayer.

“Let me see.” The nurse shifted her gaze down the hallway, then picked up a desk phone and hit a few buttons, turning slightly away. “Suz, what up? Can you give me some info on the girl up there from the school? Name’s Gigot?”

Rose waited while the nurse nodded on the phone, listening for a few minutes, saying only “uh-huh” from time to time. When the nurse hung up, her expression was unreadable.

“Well?” Rose asked, breathless.

“I’m sorry, I can’t really say.”

“Please?” Rose begged, but the nurse shook her head.

“Sorry,” she answered, looking away.

It was morning, and Rose had watched the light in the hospital room change from darkness to dawn, as the outlines of the TV, wooden chairs, and night table acquired definition in increments. She had barely slept, worrying about Amanda, and said more than one prayer for her.

Well, are you happy now?

Outside the closed door, there were sounds of people talking, metal carts rattling, and an unidentified beeping, something mechanical. She caught a whiff of breakfast being served, an eggy smell rather than the proverbial coffee aroma, and either way, she wasn’t hungry.

We could lose the house.

Melly was still asleep, so Rose leaned over carefully, slid a hand into her jeans pocket, and pulled out her BlackBerry, checking the time. 8:26 A.M. She wished she could call Leo, but the cell phones supposedly interfered with the medical equipment. Last night, she’d texted him, and the red stars on her phone meant that she had new texts, emails, and calls. She pressed the button to see if he’d texted back.

Babe, Hope Amanda pulls through. Call me. Love you.

Rose thumbed the rollerball to check her email and skimmed the list of senders. They were parents of kids in Melly’s class, who must’ve gotten her email address from the class list. She opened the first email:

You have a helluva lot of nerve acting like you’re a hero when you were happy with letting those kids die. All you did was save your own hide and child

Rose swallowed, closed the email, and opened the next.

I will never understand how some people can be so blind to the needs of others. God will judge what you did

She closed the email, and didn’t want to read the next one, but the sender’s name caught her eye. Barbara Westerman.Danielle’s last name was Westerman, so Rose clicked Open:

I am outraged that you would care so little about my daughter’s safety. She was terrified and had to run out of the building all by herself. She could have died or been gravely injured, like Amanda! We don’t need selfish people like you in Reesburgh, and you should go back to

Rose closed the email, shaken. She clicked over to her phone calls. The log showed new calls from Unknown Numbers, and she didn’t call her voicemail to listen to the messages. She had a sense of what they’d say.

Melly was shifting in bed, her eyelids fluttering and her oxygen tube slipping, so Rose readjusted the oxygen, forwarded the last three emails to Leo, turned off the BlackBerry, and slid it back into her jeans pocket. She turned to Melly and brushed a stray hair from her forehead, just as the door to the room opened and a young orderly stuck his head inside.

“Anybody hungry?” he asked, with a smile.

“Sure, come on in, thanks.” Rose motioned to him, then returned her attention to Melly. It was the first chance she’d had to get a look at Melly in the daylight, and she eyed her with more care than usual, like Dr. Mom:

Her eyes, large and blue, still looked bloodshot, and her skin, which was on the fair side, seemed reddish, whether from the antiseptic used to clean it or from the smoke’s irritation. Her nose was small and turned slightly up, but showed redness around the nostrils, which was to be expected, and her lips, also thin like Rose’s, looked dry and parched. Bernardo had always said that Melly looked exactly like Rose, except in a dark blond Bernardo wig, and Dr. Mom decided she looked fine.

“Hi, Mom.” Melly raised her arms and hugged Rose around the neck. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Mel. I hope you got some good sleep. You conked out.” Rose eased Melly back onto the bed. “Do you feel like waking up and eating a little breakfast? Or do you wanna rest?”

“I want to wake up.” Melly rubbed her eyes. “Can we go home?”

“Not yet, not until the doctor says.”

“Breakfast!” The orderly placed the tray on the night table, then blinked when he spotted her birthmark. He pointed at the scrambled eggs under their steamed-up cover of thick amber plastic. “Eat up. Help you grow up big and strong.”

“Thank you,” Melly said, raspy, getting into a sitting position as he left the room, closing the door behind him. She lifted the lid, releasing the smell of institutional eggs. “Is this all for me?”

“Yes.”

“My throat hurts. Do I have to go to school today?”

“No, it’s Saturday. You’ll feel better soon. Drink this.” Rose opened the water bottle, poured some in the flexible cup, and helped her sip some.

Melly swallowed, grimacing.

“It’ll be okay soon.”

“Do you have my Beedle the Bard book?”

“No. Sorry.” Rose had forgotten to ask Leo to get it in the car. There was another knock on the door, and she looked over. “Come in.”

The door opened, and Kristen Canton, the gifted teacher, popped her head inside the room. “Hello!” she called out, with a grin.