Lisa Scottoline - Save Me

“No, not at all.” Rose wished she could say, it’s not your fault, it’s mine. “It’s okay to take a break, even if it’s during school, like ‘me time.’ We could get you an excused absence. You were in the hospital, just two days ago.”

Melly blinked. “Did Amanda die?”

“No.”

“Do you think she will?”

“I don’t know.” Rose looked at Melly, eye-level, because she was sitting on the bathtub. “I pray she won’t, and I didn’t leave her in the fire, no matter what Josh said.”

“I know, Mom.” Melly wrapped her arms around Rose’s neck, mashing John, but he didn’t protest. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, sweetie.” Rose swallowed hard, then released Melly and stood up. “Let’s go, okay?”

“Okay.” Melly brightened. “Are Gabriella and Mo gonna be there?”

“They sure will, and we’ll get to see them again. And we’ve never been up this time of year, so I bet all the leaves are pretty. There might even be foxes.”

“And owls!”

“And raccoons.”

“Yay!” Melly kicked off her sneakers, and Rose tested the bath water again.

“Good, then get yourself cleaned up. Call me when you’re finished.” Rose kissed her on the cheek, left the bathroom, and went downstairs with John, checking her watch. Five minutes to go. She went to the TV in the family room, dug the remote from between the couch cushions, and pressed POWER, then lowered the volume. The TV was large, forty-two inches built into a cherrywood entertainment center, and everything on the screen looked gigantic. A commercial was ending, and the massive face of a handsome male reporter appeared, his smile a canoe.

Rose sat down cross-legged on the rug, cuddled John on her lap, and offered him her index finger, which he brought to his mouth and gnawed on, teething. The TV screen segued from the male anchor to a huge picture of Tanya Robertson, her head larger-than-life and her lipsticked mouth big as a swimming pool. Behind her was a banner in pink that read MORE ON MOMS. Rose felt her heartbeat thunder.

“I’m Tanya Robertson, and I continue my ‘More on Moms’ report, which tonight examines the role of the parents who volunteer in our schools. You’ve heard the expression, ‘Who guards the guards?’ Well, we’re wondering, ‘Who guards the volunteers?’ Many schools rely on parent volunteers, sometimes even in emergencies, as shown in the recent fire at Reesburgh Elementary. The life of Amanda Gigot still hangs by a thread at Reesburgh Hospital, where she remains in Intensive Care.”

Rose’s mouth went dry as the screen behind Tanya changed to footage of the fire at school, with children running from the building.

Tanya’s expression turned to photogenic concern, writ large. “We’re asking, how much do you really know about the volunteers who serve as lunch moms, softball coaches, library aides, or chaperones on field trips? How much do you really know about the moms who take care of your child in a life-threatening emergency, like at Reesburgh?”

Rose watched appalled as the film of the school fire was replaced by her own Facebook photo, from before she’d closed her account.

Tanya continued, “If you watched my first installment of ‘More on Moms,’ you saw my expanded interview of Eileen Gigot, but today we focus on Rose McKenna, one of the lunch moms the day the fire broke out at Reesburgh Elementary. At first, Ms. McKenna seemed like a hero because she saved her child Melly from the fire. Then little Amanda Gigot was found injured in the same fire. The Gigot family alleges that Ms. McKenna was negligent in her failure to rescue Amanda, and the District Attorney is investigating the matter.”

Rose swallowed hard, aghast. The screen morphed to her at eighteen years old, in her mug shot. She was a mess, her dark hair disheveled and her eyes puffy from crying. Her expression was unfocused, her head tilted slightly. She looked drunk in the photo, but she was stone cold sober. She’d just had the worst moment of her life.

“We’ve discovered that Rose McKenna was arrested when she was eighteen years old and charged with suspicion of driving under the influence, after a fatal auto accident involving a six-year-old boy, Thomas Pelal. The accident occurred outside of Wilmington, North Carolina, and police determined that the little boy ran in front of her car and was killed. Though Ms. McKenna was arrested, the charges were later dropped. Ms. McKenna has declined any comment.”

Rose gasped. It was true, but it wasn’t the whole story, and the fact that she hadn’t commented made it worse, as if she were hiding something.

Tanya said, “Here’s what we’re asking, at ‘More on Moms.’ Don’t you have a right to know that information about Rose McKenna, if she were volunteering in your child’s school? Would you want her taking care of your child? Shouldn’t we do background checks on moms who volunteer? How about drug and alcohol testing? Some schools background-check paid aides, but why should we restrict it to paid personnel? Shouldn’t anyone who cares for your child be proven safe, in addition to being drug- and alcohol-free?”

Rose felt tears in her eyes, watching her photo fade on the screen, replaced by a black question mark. The whole thing was worse than she had imagined. Or maybe it was just seeing the face of that sweet little boy broadcast before her eyes, in high-definition. She didn’t need the photo to remember Thomas Pelal. What she had done haunted her, and she thought of him every day.

Tanya paused. “Don’t you have a right to know more about the parents who take care of your children at school, on the ball field, or at the field trip to the pumpkin patch? What do you think? Weigh in at our website. This series has produced a record amount of email and tweets, so give us your opinion. I’m Tanya Robertson, looking out for you .”

Rose clicked POWER, silencing the TV, but she could still hear the scream of little Thomas Pelal, just before she hit the brakes. It would echo in her brain, and her heart, forever.

Mommy!

Rose was packing in Melly’s room when she heard the front door close, downstairs. Melly was reading in bed, with Princess Google curled up on the pillow beside her. Leo was home, and she steeled herself, glancing at the clock on the night table. It was 7:30, so he’d booked it from the city.

“Leo!” Melly called out, looking up from Beedle the Bard. “Leo! We’re up here!”

“Shh.” Rose folded Melly’s pants in two and set them inside the open bag. “Don’t wake John.”

“Sorry.” Melly placed her bookmark into her book, set it aside, and climbed out of bed. She looked small and skinny in the oversized T-shirt, and took off for the stairway. “Be right back.”

“Okay, but make it fast.” Rose wanted Melly asleep by the time she and Leo started talking, and she hid her worry. She’d been hiding her worry all afternoon. Or maybe since Thomas Pelal.

“Leo, here I am!” Melly whispered, standing at the top of the stairs. Below was the sound of Leo’s heavy tread on the hardwood floor of the entrance hall as he walked to the coat closet, took off his suit jacket, and closed the door, then came to the stairs.

“Tater! How’s my girl?”

“We’re packing.”

“Packing?” Leo climbed the stair, chuckling. “Where are you going?”

“The lake house, to see Mo and Gabriella. And raccoons!”

Rose cringed. She hadn’t told Leo about the trip yet. She turned as Leo reached the landing and scooped Melly into his arms. Hurt flickered across his face, but it vanished when he let Melly go, replacing it with the suburban blank that parents reserve for their children whenever there’s trouble.