Lisa Scottoline - Save Me

“You’d make yourself feel better, but not them. You’re the last person they want to hear from right now.”

Rose felt stung, if only because it was true.

“Plus anything you say can look like an admission of guilt, later.” Leo frowned. “Let it go. Can you let it go?”

Rose had been here before. She could never let anything go. She didn’t even know what letting go meant.

“Listen.” Leo rubbed her arms, and John stirred, but stayed asleep. “I got a bunch of calls from reporters today, and there are messages at work, too. We have to be smart about this. I realize that this trial comes at the worst time, but it’s out of my control.”

“Can’t you get an extension from the judge? You have a child in the hospital.”

“Melly’s coming home tomorrow, right?”

“Yes, around noon.”

“Then no.” Leo gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Look, I have to leave. Tonight, take John and go home.”

“I don’t have a car.”

“Yes, you do. I parked yours out front.”

“Thanks. How did you do that?”

“By cab. Listen, Melly will be fine tonight. I put her new book in the diaper bag, plus the DS. You can call her every hour. I’ll call if I can, too.”

“Leo, no.” Rose felt so confused. Her head thundered. “I can’t go home and leave her alone. She just went through a major trauma.”

“Then go home until one of the sitters frees up, and maybe you can come back.”

“I don’t want to leave her alone. She could have died. Amanda is dying. This is real, and it matters.” Rose felt herself get worked up. She flashed on the teddy bears in the ambulance. “These kids are real, not packages you can drop off. They live and they die.”

Leo blinked. “I know that.”

“Melly’s always accommodating John. It’s never the other way around.”

Leo frowned in confusion. “That’s because he’s the baby.”

“Or is it because he’s your baby?”

“What?” Leo’s lips parted. “Are you crazy?”

Mommy!

Rose blinked. Maybe she was. She felt it, a little. She was responsible for a child’s death. She couldn’t take anything back. She couldn’t replay anything. It was too late to make a different decision. Time wasn’t her friend, it had never been. It didn’t care about children, life, or death. It just ticked ahead, moving on, ever forward, always later.

“Ro, it’s not a choice between Melly and John, or between Melly and Amanda. You’re all over the place. Hang on to yourself.” Leo touched her arm, and John shifted, his nose bubbling. “I love both kids the same, you know that. Right now, the only family that matters is ours. Not theirs, ours. You, me, Melly, and John. Even Googie. That’s the family that means everything to me.”

“Is that why you’re going to work?”

“ What? ”

“You heard me.” Rose knew she was wrong, even as the words escaped her lips. She was digging herself a hole and she didn’t know why, but she couldn’t stop herself, either.

Leo’s eyes widened, a bewildered brown, the hue of earth itself. He shut his mouth, pursing his lips, and she could see he didn’t want to say anything he would regret. Without another word, he turned on his heel and strode back to the hospital room, where she knew he would put on a happy face and give Melly a good-bye kiss.

Rose remained frozen in the sunlight, and when Leo emerged from Melly’s room, she didn’t apologize or try to stop him.

She let him walk down the hall.

Away.

Rose began walking and rocking John, who was fussy and unhappy. He’d slept most of the afternoon, but his second dose of Tylenol was wearing off and he must’ve been hungry. She replaced his pacifier and sang him “Oh Susanna,” her go-to song, but it wasn’t working. She didn’t know what had happened to Amanda, and she felt cut off from the world, tense, and out of sorts.

John wailed, and Melly looked up from her Beedle the Bard book. “Mom, what does he want?”

“I don’t know. His ear must hurt.”

“Why don’t we tell the doctor?”

“They’re all busy, and he’s not their patient.”

“Why not?”

“That’s not how it works.

“‘Oh, don’t you cry for me.’” Rose sang and swayed, but John kept crying. She walked him to the window, but he wouldn’t be distracted by mere trees and a setting sun. She had to quiet him before the nurses got wise to their pajama party. She paced back to the bed. “Melly?”

“Yes?” She looked up from the book, pressing her oxygen tube dutifully into place.

“I’m going to go downstairs and get us some more food. I’ll be right back, okay?”

“Okay.”

“If you need anything, you can always ask the nurse.” Rose picked up her purse and slung it over her shoulder, then grabbed the remote control and tucked it under John. She wiped his nose with her sleeve, then slipped out of the room. An older nurse and a young intern looked up from behind their counter, and Rose flashed them a smile. “We’re going down for some food, and my daughter Melly will be alone. Can you keep an eye on her?”

“Sure,” the nurse answered. “Take the stairs, it’s quicker. The cafeteria is to the right, at the bottom, first floor.”

“Thanks.”

John cried, and the intern winced at the sound. “No lung trouble on him, eh?”

Rose faked a laugh and wished parenthood on him, then headed down the hall toward the stairs. Visitors and orderlies turned as she passed, and when she went through the stairwell door, John quieted abruptly, at the change in scenery. He sighed a baby sigh, his chest heaving, and he looked around in wobbly wonderment. The tip of his nose was red, his cheeks pink and chubby, and his curly brown hair damp where he had sweated. His brown eyes shone with tears, but were round and lively, like Leo’s.

Is it because he’s your baby?

“There you go, honey bun.” She rubbed his back between his tiny shoulder blades, and his sleeper felt warm and nubby under her palm. “It’s all right, honey. Everything’s all right.”

John smiled at her, and Rose felt her heart fill with love. She gave him a kiss, then climbed down the stairs, cradling him close to her chest. She adored John, and she adored Leo, and she felt terrible about what she’d said about him favoring the baby. It was a terrible thing to say, and it wasn’t even true. She must have been crazy.

Mommy!

She stopped on the stairwell, slid her BlackBerry from her pocket, and thumbed her way to the phone function. She didn’t think she’d screw up any cardiac monitors if she called from here, but there was only one bar left on the screen. She thumbed her way to the text function, texted I’M SORRY LOVE U, and hit SEND. But the text didn’t transmit, either because of the low battery or poor reception.

She hit the first floor, opened the door, and entered the bright, glistening lobby. It was an uncrowded, sleepy Saturday night, and for that she was grateful. She passed a sign for the cafeteria and followed it past bronze plaques that listed major donors and corporate sponsors, knowing she was getting closer to the cafeteria by the comforting aromas of grilled cheese and tomato soup. She kept going, and the hallway wound around to an institutional cafeteria signed THE GROTTO, where papier-mâché salamis and ersatz wheels of provolone hung above a stainless steel lineup of trays and silverware. She grabbed a red plastic tray and got in line behind a man and a woman, sliding the tray along with one hand and holding John with the other, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“Let’s see what they have, huh? Hot dog, grilled cheese, mac and cheese.” Rose talked to John all the time, like the narrator of their everyday life. She didn’t know why she did it, but she’d done it with Melly, and she knew he understood the gist. Science didn’t give babies enough credit, and every mother knew it.