“Thank you.”
“Is Kristen here?”
“She came and left. The school staff all came early, at the invitation of the families.” Mrs. Nuru pursed her lips. “I heard from Mr. Rodriguez that she told you what I said about the faulty wiring. That was imprudent of me, and of her. I trust you’ll keep it confidential.”
“Of course.”
“Kristen is young, and she has lots of growing up to do. She needs to learn judgment.”
“Do you really think so?” Rose asked, defensively. “I think she’s such a great teacher.”
“Experience tells, in my opinion.” Mrs. Nuru sniffed, glancing at the other teachers. “I should go, they’re waiting. Will Melly be in school tomorrow?”
“I’m not sure I’ll send her.” Rose remembered that Mrs. Nuru thought Melly was too sensitive, so she didn’t elaborate. “I haven’t decided yet.”
“If she’s well enough, I’d send her. If you decide not to, give her my best.”
“Will do, thanks. Bye now.” Rose turned and went back to the line, trying not to notice that people started whispering among themselves when they spotted her.
“Everything okay?” Annie asked, when Rose got back to the line.
“I guess. She’s upset. They all are.” Rose was troubled by what Mrs. Nuru had said about Kristen, and now heads were turning and people were talking about them. “Um, look around.”
“I know, I noticed before you did. And here comes the press.”
Rose turned to see Tanya Robertson approaching from the left. Her crew followed, switching on klieglights, and the cameraman started filming, his camera perched on his shoulder.
“Ms. McKenna, please.” Tanya thrust her microphone forward. “Can’t we chat for a moment?”
“No comment.” Rose put up a hand, though she knew it would make her look bad on TV. “Please, show some respect.”
“We’re on public property, and if we could speak one-on-one, as I did with Eileen, this would go much easier. Did you see my interview with her? Do you have a response to her allegations about you?”
“I said, no comment.” Rose didn’t look over. She didn’t know Eileen had made allegations against her. The women in front of her edged away, and other people in the line kept turning around, whispering, and staring at them.
Tanya held her microphone out. “Eileen alleges that you intentionally left Amanda because you think she teases your child, and you’ve even called her about that. Do you have animosity for Amanda?”
“Stop it!” Annie interrupted, stepping over. “Are you insane? If you knew this woman, you’d never say anything like that!”
“Annie, no, it’s okay.” Rose put a hand on her arm, but Annie wasn’t listening.
“This is harassment. I’m calling the cops. Where are the cops?” Annie looked around, then tried to flag down a funeral home employee in a gray suit, who was directing traffic. “Sir? Sir!”
“Annie, that’s okay, no.” Rose wanted to defuse the situation. Everyone was watching, and a short woman in a black pantsuit got out of line and stalked toward them, her forehead creased with anger.
“How can you show your face here?” the woman shouted, and people reacted with shock, chatter, and nervous laughter.
Rose edged away from the woman. The situation was getting out of hand, and she hadn’t counted on the press being there. “Annie, we should get—”
“Aren’t you ashamed?” The woman kept charging toward her, then pointed down the street. “Get out of here. You don’t belong here.”
“What?” Annie shouted at the woman, in disbelief. “What’s the matter with you? She didn’t do anything wrong, and she has every right to be here. What is this, Salem?”
Tanya held the microphone out, recording audio. The cameraman zoomed in, the large black lens telescoping forward and back.
The woman was yelling, “She abandoned a child in the fire, to burn alive!”
“You’re wrong!” Annie yelled back. “She tried to get the girl out, but she must have run back in!”
“How dare you blame that child? She’s a child! A little girl!”
“Ladies, please!” The funeral home employee came over, waving his hands. He was bald and on the slight side. “This is inappropriate at such a time. Please.”
“Sorry, we’re leaving.” Rose took Annie’s arm, but she pulled it away and pointed at the woman.
“This woman is insane!” Then Annie pointed at Tanya. “And this woman is harassing us to sell commercial time on TV, so a grateful nation can have enough toothpaste, beer, and deodorant!”
“Let’s go.” Rose hustled Annie away, but Tanya and her crew followed on their heels.
“Ms. McKenna, what do you say to the court’s denial of the emergency injunction? Do you think the school is reopening prematurely? Do you expect to be sued by the Gigots? Are you suing the school? Will you attend the candlelight vigil Monday night?”
Rose and Annie broke into a jog toward their cars.
Chapter Twenty-five
Rose parked in Allen’s Dam, the public park outside of Old Town, its tall trees ablaze in rich reds, oranges, and golds, a conflagration of hues that only reminded her of the fire that had brought so much destruction and death.
Annie climbed into the car and sat in the passenger seat, having followed her in her car. “What a disaster!”
“I feel like such a screw-up.” Rose took off her sunglasses and tossed them onto the console. “I shouldn’t have gone.”
“Of course you should have. You’re a member of the community. The problem was, where were the cops? In the city, we would’ve had a swarm.”
“There are no cops. Only state police.”
“What?” Annie looked over, incredulous. “Of course there are cops.”
“No.” Rose shook her head. “Not every town in America has its own police force. I didn’t know that either, but it’s true. Most of the rural townships don’t have a police force, or they share. The area’s too sparsely populated, and when the economy tanked, they cut the funds for it.”
“For police?”
“Yes.”
“How about fire?”
“We have a fire department, and if there’s a crime, we’re supposed to call the state police. The realtor said they’d come, but it could take a while. She didn’t even know anybody who’d called them, except for hunting out of season.”
Annie shook her neat head. “I wouldn’t feel safe without cops.”
“I do, now. There’s no crime here. Most people don’t even lock their front doors. It’s paradise. At least it was, until recently.”
“Whatever, I’m sorry I lost it at that woman.” Annie frowned, and the corners of her mouth tugged downward, as if by strings. “I hope I didn’t make it worse for you. It’ll pass, it has to.”
“It’s okay.” Rose rubbed her forehead, thinking. Leo had a small cabin near Lake Harmony, which Melly loved, and their neighbors at the lake, Mo and Gabriella Vaughn, were like her honorary grandparents. “Maybe we should take a break, up to the cabin. Leo’s busy anyway, and we could all use a little R&R while it’s still hot, and Melly loves the Vaughns. What do you think?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I know you love the Vaughns, but it’ll all be here when you get back. You can’t run from this, Ro.”
“I’m not running,” Rose said, stung.
“I think you are.”
“What am I supposed to do? How can I send her to school on Monday? They’ll take it out on her.”
“I think you should send her. Tell you why.” Annie cocked her head, her expression thoughtful. “This whole thing, with the fire, the deaths, and Melly and Amanda, it’s all of a piece. Getting through it is going to be a recovery process. All grief is, and all trauma. That recovery process is starting at school tomorrow, with the memorial service.”
Rose set her ego aside, listening. Annie was honest, if blunt.
“If Mell
y’s not a part of that, she’s more on the outs than ever. She’ll be a step behind everybody else, and that sucks. Like when you start the day late, you know that feeling? You never quite catch up. You spend the day unsettled, off-balance, left behind. True?”
“Yes.”
“You say she has a relationship with this Kristen. She’ll look out for her.”
Rose mulled it over. “Mrs. Nuru thinks I should send her, but she’s mad at Kristen and thinks she favors Melly. It’s gotten political, all of a sudden.”
“Great.” Annie curled her upper lip. “I like the one who likes Melly. I’m Team Kristen.”
“Me, too.” Rose smiled. “I wish I could ask her about all of this. She said she’d look out for Melly, but that was before they came down on her. I’m not sending Melly, unless Kristen keeps an eye out for her.”
“So call and ask her.”
“I have her number somewhere at home.” Then Rose realized something. “You know what? Kristen’s apartment is two blocks from here. I dropped cupcakes off there once.”
“So why don’t you just go over? If she likes Melly that much, she won’t mind. You have the sitter until nine, you might as well use her.” Annie checked her watch. “I should go, too. Forget the chips for the boys. Mom’s tired.”
“Okay, it’s a plan.” Rose leaned over and gave her a hug. “You’re the best. Thanks so much for coming.”
“I’ll be in Philly all week. Call me if you need me. Give everybody kisses for me, would you?”
“Yes. Same to Simon and the boys. Love you.”
“You, too.” Annie opened the door and climbed out of the car, her eyes glittering with mischief. “By the way, I’m keeping this sweater. I’ll give it to the homeless lady on my corner.”
“No!” Rose smiled. “Gimme back my sweater.”
Annie laughed. “Why, you going to a funeral?”
Rose blinked, caught up short, thinking instantly of Amanda.
Annie’s smile faded. “Oops, sorry. I just stuck my foot in my mouth, didn’t I?”
“Nah, and keep the sweater.” Rose tried to rally. “Then maybe I won’t need it, right?”
“Right!” Annie said, closing the door.
Chapter Twenty-six
Rose walked up the brick walkway to Kristen’s house, a boxy duplex on a street of older rowhouses. A man in a white undershirt and jeans was washing a red Ford pickup in the driveway, and he shut off the hose when he saw Rose.
“Whoops, didn’t mean to spray you,” he said with a grin. “Hi.”
“Hello, I’m here to see Kristen. I’m a parent of one of the kids in her class.”
“Jacob Horton. I live on the first floor. Just a heads-up, Kristen came home, upset. She was over at Fiore’s.”
“Thanks, bye.” Rose went to the set of exterior steps, climbed to the second floor, reached the wooden landing, and knocked on the screen door. “Kristen!” She waited but there was no answer, so she knocked again. “Kristen?”
The door opened, and Kristen stood in the doorway, dressed in a black cotton dress, wiping tears from her eyes. “Rose?”
“Can I come in, for a minute?”
“Okay.” Kristen sniffled and stepped aside, and Rose entered and gave her a big hug.
“I know it’s a hard time for you and the other teachers.”
“It’s so awful, everything’s so awful.” Kristen hugged her back, then released her, wiping her eyes. “The wakes were so sad, and Mrs. Nuru and Mr. Rodriguez are so angry, and there were even reporters there, asking me a zillion questions, like how Melly and Amanda got along.”
“I know. I was there.” Rose looked around, her eyes adjusting to the light in the small living room. A black suitcase rested on a red-checked couch, and T-shirts and shorts sat stacked in a pile on top of a painted bookshelf, ready to be packed. “Are you going somewhere?”
“I’m sorry, I’m leaving. I can’t take it anymore. I quit.”
“What?” Rose asked, aghast. “When? Why?”
“It’s all too much. I messed up here, I talk too much, and I can’t work here, watching everything I say, walking on eggshells.” Kristen’s eyes welled up again, her freckled skin mottled with emotion. “Mr. Rodriguez said I have bad judgment and loose lips sink ships. I give up. I’m not cut out to be a teacher, at least not here, not anymore. I’m going.”
“Wait, slow down.” Rose thought of Melly. “I was just saying this will pass, it has to.”
“No, it won’t, and it doesn’t have to.”
“Yes, it will, Kristen. You’re young and you don’t realize. Time changes things. Things you don’t think you’ll survive, you do. I know, I’ve lived it.”
“Sorry, I’ve made my decision. I’m leaving. I’m sorry.” Kristen turned on her heel, picked up two T-shirts, and tossed them into the suitcase, startling a white cat that bounded out of the room, his tail high.
“But what about Melly? And what about the other kids in the program? They just went through a trauma, and Amanda’s still in the hospital. They need you, now more than ever. Melly needs you.”
“I’m just the gifted teacher, and not that experienced, as Mrs. Nuru keeps reminding me.”
“But the kids love you. Melly loves you.”
“I have your number, I’ll call her.” Kristen placed a quilted toiletries case into the suitcase. “I’ll stay in touch with her.”
“It’s not the same.”
“Don’t you think I know that? Don’t you think I feel guilty enough?” Kristen picked up some socks and wedged them into the case. “I have to live my own life.”
“Kristen, please stay. Please.”
“Don’t you see, if I stay, I make it worse for her?” Kristen turned, stricken. “They think I favor her, and now they’ll be looking for it in everything I do. It’s best for her if I go.”
“That’s not what’s best for her. I know what’s best for her.”
“Look, I’m sorry, I really am, but this is messing up my life, too.”
“Then why don’t you slow down, see how you feel in two weeks?”
“No. I emailed Mr. Rodriguez my resignation. I said to tell people I had a family emergency. It’s a done deal.”
“You’re really leaving now?” Rose asked, incredulous.
“Yes. I’m going to my parents’, and I’d appreciate it if you’d keep it confidential. I don’t want any of these crazy parents emailing me or posting any more crap on my Facebook wall. No more reporters, either.” Kristen’s pretty features softened, and she became her old sweet self. “I really am sorry, so sorry, for everything, but I have to go now. Please, go. I’ll call Melly in a day or two.”
“Do you swear? You’ll break her heart if you don’t. You owe her that much. She’s a person, with feelings.”
“I said I will, and I will.” Kristen crossed to the door, and opened it wide, and Rose went to the threshold, bewildered.
“You’re not who I thought you were.”
“None of us is,” Kristen said, unsmiling.
Chapter Twenty-seven
Rose steered down Allen Road, the window open, her elbow resting on the door, and a breeze blowing through her hair. She’d called Leo to tell him about Kristen, but he hadn’t answered, and she’d left a message. Kristen was leaving Melly without her only ally, and Rose wasn’t sure what to do. She didn’t know whether to send Melly to school or how to tell Melly that Kristen was leaving, and in the end, either way, it would be a terrible blow.
Rose stopped at a red light, and the traffic had lessened, once she was on the outskirts of town. The sky was darkening, and she scanned the neat houses with their glowing lights, a typical Sunday night in the suburbs. Parents and kids would be hunkering down around kitchen tables, doing math and French homework, or building volcanoes with baking-soda lava or teepees ribbed with Popsicle sticks. Not all the Sunday night scenes would be so idyllic, and Rose knew that, too. That, she had lived, too.
She hit the gas, and the homes disap
peared among the commercial outskirts and the chain stores like the CVS, Giant, Costco, Wal-mart, and Target. Beyond them, she could see the distant outline of the school, with its long, low roofline and large wings on either side. The wings held the classrooms, and the entrance and administrative offices were nearer the left wing, on the north side. The cafeteria was also near the left, but it was built on the front of the school like an addition, with no second floor because of the skylights. Rose stopped at a traffic light, and from this distance, she could pretend that nothing had ever happened. No fire, no women in coffins, no daughters in hospitals, no angry parents, and no young teacher quitting a promising career, leaving Melly on her own.
Rose fed the car gas when the light changed, braking as she approached the school. As she got closer, she could see that the street in front was marked off by orange cones and sawhorses. Pickups and construction vehicles sat parked along the curb, ending in a rusty dumpster. The few cars around her slowed down, rubbernecking, and she found herself pulling over in front of the school, parking behind a dusty pickup with a bumper sticker, UNION CARPENTERS HAVE BETTER WOOD. She cut the ignition, and the breeze through the window smelled like burned things.
She scanned the school and understood what Mr. Rodriguez had meant. Most of the building looked the same, its brand-new brick façade and classroom wings perfect, and only the cafeteria had been damaged, like a black eye on a pageant queen. The cafeteria windows were empty holes, dark smudges marred the windowsills and brick, and a blue plastic tarp covered the roof.
Rose thought of the people who had died inside, and the long lines at Fiore’s, and to her mind, public property had become hallowed ground. It seemed impossible that there would be recess tomorrow, with kids throwing basketballs, jumping rope, and playing kickball. She could almost feel the flames licking at her ankles, all over again. She flashed on Melly, slumped in the bathroom. Emily, crying, and Danielle, running terrified. Her thoughts ended where they always did, with Amanda.
Mommy!
She got out of the car, closed the door behind her, and walked through the playground toward the cafeteria, which had been cordoned off in different sections with yellow caution tape, sawhorses, and a temporary fence of orange netting. She stood behind the sawhorse, eyeing the scene.