“I wanted to unlock it, Mom.”
“Sorry, honey. I forgot. Give me your stuff.” Rose opened the front door for Melly, then took her backpack and lunchbox so she could climb in unencumbered. Melly clambered into the passenger seat, and Rose went to the back, opened the door, tossed the stuff onto the floor, and lowered John into his car seat, buckling him in. An SUV pulled into the space next to her, not leaving her much room to maneuver.
“Ms. McKenna, excuse me,” said a woman’s voice in the SUV behind her, and Rose turned around. The passenger slid down the window to reveal Tanya Robertson, squinting so hard in the sunlight that her false eyelashes stuck together.
“What are you doing here? You’re not allowed on school property.”
“It’s about my ‘More on Moms’ feature. It’s very popular, and I’ve already interviewed Eileen—”
“Get off of school property before I call somebody.” Rose looked around for a teacher, but no one was close enough to see. “I told you, I’m not giving you any interviews.”
“I’m not asking for one, about Amanda, anyway. I’m trying to help you.”
“The hell you are.” Rose turned away and went to the front door, but Tanya stuck her hand outside the window, with her business card.
“Call me. We need to talk about Thomas Pelal.”
Rose stopped, stunned.
“Ms. McKenna? Do yourself a favor. Take my card. If I don’t hear from you by five o’clock today, I’m going with my story.”
Rose willed herself into action, got inside the car, closed the door, and twisted the ignition key with a shaking hand. She was being called to account, to atone. To explain, when there was no explanation. She had waited for it to catch up with her for years, and now, finally, it had.
“Mom?”
“What?” Rose hit the gas, aimed to the exit behind the other cars, and reached into her purse for her phone. “What, honey?”
“Do you think we should have Muenster cheese on the Kristenburgers or Swiss?”
“I don’t know.” Rose thumbed her rollerball in a panic.
“Mrs. Canton likes Muenster, and so do I. A kid in my class calls it monster. Monster cheese. I think that’s so funny and cute.”
“Me, too.” Rose swung the car out of the school parking lot onto Allen Road, trying to find Oliver’s office number in her phone. Her heart thundered in her chest. All hell was about to break loose.
“Mom, remember, you said the car is a no-phone zone.”
“This is important, honey.” Rose fed the car gas, thumbing to the phone function. Traffic flowed steadily, and she kept pace. Everybody but Reesburgh Elementary parents avoided Allen Road when school was dismissed. Her thoughts raced ahead. She wished she could reach Leo, but he’d be in court and wouldn’t pick up. She could have texted him, but it wasn’t the kind of message you left by text.
“You said, no phones, it’s a rule. You told me to yell at you if you did it, like being on a diet.”
“Well, this is an exception.” Rose fed the car gas. The rollerball was stuck for some reason, and she couldn’t get it to move to the phone function. Sunlight flooded through the car window, obliterating the small screen.
“Why is it an exception?”
“It’s okay, just this once. It’s a school zone, so don’t worry.” Rose finally got to the phone function and scrolled down to the call before last.
“So why does that matter, that it’s a school zone?”
“People drive more slowly in a school zone.” Rose rolled the rollerball to highlight the phone number, but it got sticky again.
“Mom, watch out!”
Rose slammed on the brake before they almost crashed into a minivan in front of them, its left turn signal blinking. They shuddered to a stop, the ABS stuttering and the tires screeching. The sudden movement tossed them all forward, then back into their seats.
“We almost hit that car!” Melly cried, her eyes agog, and in the backseat, John burst into tears.
Rose exhaled, coming to her senses. She set the phone down on the console and looked over. Melly looked bewildered, her frown deeper than any child’s should ever be. Rose prayed she’d never see that look on her daughter’s face again, but now she wasn’t so sure. “Mel, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”
“Yes.” Melly nodded, still wide-eyed. “Are you?”
“Yes.” Rose smiled, touched. She loved Melly so much it hurt. She could have cried out loud at what was going to come, for all of them. She checked John in the rearview, and he was crying full-blast, his tiny features clustered and his pacifier gone. “Aww, Johnnie, I’m sorry, I love you.”
“What’s the matter, Mom?”
“Nothing.” Rose knew that Melly would find out, soon enough. The minivan in front of them took its left turn, oblivious to the near disaster, and Rose hit the gas. She’d wait to call Oliver until Melly was out of earshot, but she knew there wasn’t anything anybody could do. Some crashes could be averted, and some couldn’t. This one was head-on, barreling faster than an express train.
Hurtling toward everyone she loved the most.
Chapter Forty-two
Rose closed her bedroom door, having put John down for a nap and left Melly downstairs, reading her new book. The ride home had given her a chance to think, and she had even more questions than before. What interest did Tanya have in Thomas Pelal? Would she even report on it, and could Rose sue her if she did, maybe to stop her? Or should Rose try and call her to talk her out of it?
If I don’t hear from you by five o’clock today.
Rose checked the clock on the night table; it was 3:13. She sank onto the bed, pressed CALL, and waited for the call to connect to Oliver.
“Charriere and Lake,” the receptionist answered, and Rose identified herself.
“Is Oliver or Tom there?”
“They’re both in court, Ms. McKenna. May I take a message?”
“Can we interrupt them, either one? Can we reach them? It’s an emergency.”
“Are you calling from the police station? Are you under arrest?”
“No. It’s almost as bad as that, though.”
“Are you in physical danger?”
“No, not at all, sorry.” Rose hated being so mysterious, but she didn’t want to talk with anyone but a lawyer. “Do they call in? Can you leave them a message, asking them to call me as soon as possible?”
“Yes, certainly. They both just did call in, but if they call again, I’ll make sure they get back to you, top priority.”
“Thanks, bye.” Rose hung up, tense, then pressed L for Leo, and waited for the call to connect. Leo’s voicemail came on, and she left him a message. “Something’s come up, and it’s really important that you call me ASAP. I love you.”
Rose thumbed her way to the text function and left him a text message, saying the same thing, then pressed SEND. She hated to think of how hurt he’d be, and what impact it would have on their marriage. The phone rang in her hand, and she jumped. The screen showed Oliver’s office number, and she pressed answer. “Yes, hello?”
“Ms. McKenna?” It was the receptionist. “Sorry, I can’t reach them or the paralegal. They’re both in court, on separate trials. I’ll keep trying.”
“When’s the next break?”
“As I said before, they just called, and I know they’re both putting on witnesses this afternoon. I’ll keep trying, as I say.”
“Okay, thanks. Bye.” Rose pressed END, sitting at the edge of the bed, feeling pressure building. She couldn’t prevent what was going to happen, and it clarified her greatest fear. It didn’t matter what the world thought of her. What really mattered was her family. She’d made mistakes in her life, and the worst part was that everybody she loved was about to pay for the biggest one. How they’d feel, how they’d be impacted. She had to tell Leo before he heard about it on TV.
Haven’t you done enough?
Rose sighed, looking around the sunny, peaceful bedroom that they’d worked
on together. She’d unpacked the moving boxes while Leo had painted the walls, a soft powder-blue that they’d joked would induce falling asleep, if not making love. They’d agreed on the matching blue rug, and refinished as a team an Irish pine dresser from a Lambertville antiques store. Above it hung a matching mirror and a panel of scribbles that a younger Melly had drawn for their wedding, which Leo had framed; crayoned circles in red, blue, and yellow that represented the three of them, a new family.
If I don’t hear from you …
Rose tried to hold at bay the sensation that everything in the bedroom was about to explode, flying into smithereens like a picture-perfect cafeteria. Her phone rang again, and she looked down at the screen. LEO, it read. She didn’t know how to tell him, but she would find a way.
She pressed ANSWER.
Chapter Forty-three
Rose spent the afternoon dreading the TV news, but going through the motions, making Kristenburgers again, cleaning her countertops, helping Melly take a picture of Flat Stanley with fallen leaves in the backyard, changing and feeding John, and fussing at Melly about being on Club Penguin too long. Leo had said he’d be home around eight o’clock, and she’d prepared him as best as she could without telling him over the phone. It was a conversation they could have only in person.
“Mel?” Rose called into the family room, checking the clock. It was 4:45. She wiped John’s face, and he squeezed his eyes closed whenever the paper towel touched his cheek, which made her laugh, on any other day. She realized she wasn’t narrating their life either, but that was no surprise. “Mel, I want you to go up and take a bath.”
“Now?”
“Yes.” Rose didn’t want Melly anywhere near the TV at five o’clock. She held John tighter on her hip, opened the base cabinet, and tossed the paper towel in the trash, then left the kitchen, already formulating a plan for the next few days. “And I want to talk to you about something else.”
“Okay, I’m signing off.” Melly hit a key on the computer keyboard, and Rose went over and stroked her head. There was a window next to the desk, and sunlight poured through the window sheers, bringing out the gold in her long hair and casting a fuzzy square of light on the patterned Karastan, where Princess Google was lying flat, her feathery white legs stretched out like Superdog.
“Let’s get you in the bath, and I’ll tell you what I’m thinking.”
“Okay.” Melly rose from the computer, and Princess Google woke up, stretching her front legs, then trotting behind as they headed upstairs with John, who was making bubbles with his spit. “Mom, look, he’s doing motorboat again. He loves it.”
“He sure does.” Rose followed Melly up the stairs, keeping her moving with a gentle hand. “He’s talented.”
“He’s a baby wizard.”
“Mel, you know what I was thinking?” They reached the landing, and Rose guided her upstairs, down the hall, and into the bathroom. “I was thinking that maybe we could take a break, like a few days, up to the lake.”
“When?”
“Maybe even tomorrow.”
Melly looked up, her eyes a surprised blue. “I have school.”
“I know, but it’s just for a few days.” Rose sat down on the edge of the bathtub and held John closer as she leaned over and twisted on the faucet, then ran her fingers through the water to check the temperature. Princess Google settled onto the bathmat, curling like a cinnamon bun. “Wouldn’t that be fun? We could take Flat Stanley to the creek and take pictures of him with the minnows. That would be cool.”
“Would I miss school?”
“Yes, but just for a few days.”
“Who would go?”
“Me, you, and the motorboat.” Rose smiled in a way she hoped was reassuring. “Leo has to work. He’s on trial. He’ll be home tonight, but that’s it for the week.”
“Would Googie go, too?”
“Of course, the Googs. We can’t live without her.”
“Why do you want to go to the lake?”
Rose wasn’t about to lie to her, at least not much. “There’s just so much stuff going on, with what happened with Amanda. I think if we went away for a few days, things would cool down and then we could come back, next week.”
Melly stood a little forlornly, her arms at her sides. The only sound was the water rushing into the tub. “Is it my fault? Because I pushed Josh?”
“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.