Save Me

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Save Me Page 10

by Lisa Scottoline


  “They said on the TV that cafeteria ladies died in the fire.”

  I hate TV. “That’s true, sweetie, and a teacher died, too. Marylou Battle.”

  “I don’t know her.”

  “I didn’t think so.”

  “Did they burn up?”

  Rose shuddered. Another truth she couldn’t tell, another necessary lie. “No, the smoke got them.”

  “The smoke almost got me, too.”

  “But it didn’t, in the end.”

  Melly fell silent, her breathing shallow. The oxygen tube was in place under her nose, and she’d been taken off the IV. “Did they go to heaven with Daddy?”

  “I’m sure they did, Mel,” Rose answered. Bernardo had died when Melly was four, and she brought him up often, though he hadn’t bothered to see her much, after the divorce.

  “If Amanda dies, will she go to heaven?”

  “Yes.” Rose swallowed hard, caught unawares. “Absolutely.”

  “I think so, too,” Melly said, after a moment.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  “You look cute!” Rose was trying to make the best of things. She hadn’t gotten a change of clothes for Melly, so she’d had to buy her a pink Hello Kitty sweatsuit and flip-flops in the hospital gift shop.

  “Nobody in third grade wears Hello Kitty.” Melly sulked at the end of the bed. She’d taken a shower and shampooed her hair, so the smell of smoke was almost completely gone. “It’s for babies.”

  “You can take it off when we get home.”

  “What if kids from my class see, like Amanda? She’s in the same hospital, you said.”

  “She won’t see.” Rose hadn’t heard anything about Amanda, and she was hoping no news was good news. She hadn’t slept well and couldn’t wait to go home, having signed the hospital’s discharge forms and gotten a flurry of papers with instructions for aftercare.

  “I wish I had my Harry shirt. The nurse said they had to throw it away, but I wish they didn’t.”

  “We’ll see if we can get you a new one.”

  “They don’t make that one anymore, Mom. It was from the first movie.”

  “We’ll look on eBay.” Rose wondered if the Harry Potter shirts were such a good idea, anymore. “Now, listen, if there are reporters outside, don’t say anything to them. They’ll know your name and they’ll call it out, but don’t answer.”

  “Okay.” Melly looked over as the door opened, and Leo came in, dressed for work and holding John, awake and gurgling, in a blue onesie. “Leo, did you bring my clothes?”

  “No.” Leo looked from her to Rose. “Was I supposed to?”

  “No, hi.” Rose was sorry they’d fought, but she still felt distant. John smiled and reached for her with wet, outstretched fingers, and she took him and gave him a kiss without meeting Leo’s eye. “How’s he doing?”

  “All better. No fever. Slept like a baby. Ha!”

  “Hugs, Leo!” Melly called out, and Leo scooped her up and gave her a big kiss on the cheek.

  “Wow, I like your cat shirt. Very fashionable.”

  “Yuck.” Melly wrinkled her nose. “I wish I had my Harry shirt.”

  “Aww, this is nice for a change. It’s pink, like cotton candy. You know I love cotton candy.” Leo buried his face in her neck and blew raspberries, sending Melly into gales of giggles. The sound made John laugh, and he reached for Melly, his chubby hand outstretched and flapping happily.

  “Let’s go home.” Rose picked up her purse and went to the door. “Is there a lot of press outside?”

  “Some.” Leo carried Melly out of the room and down the hall to the elevator, where he set her down. “Want to press the button, tater? Go for it. When we get inside, hit L.”

  Melly pressed the DOWN button, then led them into the elevator cab when the doors slid open. They piled inside, and she hit the lobby button. “Descendo!”

  “You okay, babe?” Leo asked lightly, after the doors closed, but Rose busied herself with John’s pacifier.

  “Fine. You?”

  “Good. By the way, I brought your phone. It was on the counter.” Leo slid her BlackBerry from the pocket of his khakis and handed it to her.

  “Thanks.” Rose accepted it with a pat smile.

  “You going out tonight, still?”

  “Yes.” Rose knew it was code for the wake, but they never fought in front of Melly, who undoubtedly knew whenever they were fighting. The kid wasn’t gifted for nothing.

  “Too bad,” Leo said, pleasantly. “I wish you wouldn’t. You might want to rethink it.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “I’ll walk you to the car.” Leo pursed his lips as they reached the ground floor. “Ready, everybody?”

  “Ready!” Melly said, and Leo took her hand. When the doors slid open, they filed out into the carpeted lobby, which was quiet except for a few people sitting on the sectional furniture. Outside the glass entrance was a throng of reporters and cameras.

  “Melly, just walk and keep going, no matter what.” Rose hoisted John higher, and Leo picked up Melly on the fly.

  “Let’s go. Melly, where’s your wand?”

  “In the diaper bag.”

  “Too bad. Can you make those reporters disappear, anyway?”

  “Let’s put on our invisibility cloak!”

  “Now you’re talking.” Leo smiled.

  “It’s on! Go, Leo!” Melly looped one hand around his neck and pointed forward with the other, and they moved as a pack out the entrance and into the sunlight. The reporters flocked to them with cameras, microphones, and questions.

  “Any comment, Rose?” “How are you feeling, Melly? Are you friends with Amanda?” “Melly, you going to school tomorrow? What was it like when your mom came to save you?” “Melly, were you afraid in the cafeteria?”

  Tanya Robertson caught up with Rose, running alongside, bubble microphone outstretched. “Ms. McKenna, please, I’ve done an interview with Eileen. You’ll want to respond to what she’s saying. This is your last chance.”

  “No comment.” Rose kept moving, hugging John close.

  “Back off!” Leo said, and Melly buried her face in his neck.

  Rose hurried ahead, chirped the doors unlocked, and hustled John into his car seat while Leo took Melly to the other side, buckled her in, and closed the door behind her, as the press swarmed the car, firing questions.

  “Mr. Ingrassia, what do you have to say about the injunction the Gigots have filed?” “Did you join in the injunction? Will you be suing the district as well?” “Is Melly going back to school tomorrow?”

  Rose jumped inside the car and shoved the key in the ignition. Her phone started ringing, but she ignored it. Reporters edged away as she backed up, and she hit the gas and drove toward the exit, leaving them behind, relieved. She stopped at the first traffic light, slid the phone from her purse, and checked the display. The call was from her best friend, Annie Assarian, so she pressed REDIAL. “Hey!”

  “Girl, I’ve been calling you and leaving messages. What’s going on? There’s all kinds of nastiness on your Facebook wall. Is Melly okay?”

  “Fine.” Rose kept her tone light because Melly was listening. “Can I call you back? I’m driving.”

  “I’m in Philly this week and next on a movie shoot, and we just finished for the day. You wanna have drinks?”

  “I can’t go out.”

  “How about I come over? I have my car.”

  “I’d love that, if it’s not too much trouble.”

  “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  “Great.” Rose brightened. “See you then.” She hung up and set the phone in the cupholder as the traffic light changed to green. “Guess what?”

  “Aunt Nemo’s coming? Yay!”

  Rose smiled. “How did you know? Did you hear?”

  “You always smile when you talk to her.”

  “I bet I do.” Rose felt better. She didn’t get to see Annie that much anymore, and she fed the car some gas, wonderin
g if there was any food in the fridge.

  “Mom, think I’ll ever get a friend like Aunt Nemo?”

  “I know you will, honey,” Rose answered, though her throat caught.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Rose made pizza bagels for the kids, then put John down for a nap and installed Melly in the family room with Princess Google and a Harry Potter DVD. Sunshine poured through the lavender in the bay window, and while the two women cleaned up the kitchen, Rose told Annie the whole story.

  “You didn’t do anything wrong, Ro.” Annie shook her head, a stiff cap of onyx curls. Her eyes were large and a rich brown, with a faint almond shape that hinted at her biracial parentage. Her warm skin tone freed her from makeup, though she was one of the most-sought-after makeup artists in New York.

  “Still, I feel terrible.” Rose rinsed a dish and loaded it into the open dishwasher. “I wish I had gotten them both out.”

  “You did, essentially. Amanda ran back in, and you couldn’t have known that.”

  “I should have.”

  “You’re not superhuman. You’re just a model.”

  Rose smiled. She had stopped thinking of herself as a model, ages ago.

  “I’d have done the exact same thing, if it were Joey or Armen.” Annie had two boys with her husband Simon, a sculptor and art history professor at NYU.

  “You would?”

  “Totally.” Annie twisted the plastic bag of bagels closed and put it back in the freezer. “Meanwhile, these were good, for frozen.”

  “I know, they’re fine, right?”

  “Totally.” Annie yanked up the skinny strap of her purple boho sundress, which showed off tattooed arms encircled with fire-breathing red dragons, Chinese symbols, and an orange koi that had reminded a younger Melly of the cartoon Nemo, so a nickname was born for her godmother.

  “Remember when we had to have Murray’s? They were the cool bagels.” Rose rinsed tomato sauce from a tablespoon. “We’d stand in line every Sunday morning with all the investment bankers?”

  “I still do that.” Annie smiled.

  “Well, I still do this.” Rose dropped the spoon into the silverware holder in the dishwasher, keeping it with the other spoons.

  “Oh no!” Annie burst into laughter. “Set that spoon free. Let it hang with the knives and forks.”

  “I’m telling you, sort the silverware before you wash it, then it saves time when you put it away.”

  “It saves no time,” Annie shot back. It was an historic disagreement, from their years sharing a one-bedroom in the East Village, which was so small that they stored their boots in the oven.

  “Melly agrees with me. She thinks Aunt Nemo’s crazy.”

  “Aunt Nemo is crazy, but that’s not why.”

  “But for real, tell me the truth. You would have done the same thing?”

  “Yes.”

  “You don’t think I’m a horrible person?”

  “I know you’re not. You’re the sweetest person I know.”

  Rose smiled. “Should I keep fishing for compliments?”

  “Go right ahead. I love you, and you know it.” Annie’s smile vanished. “And I hate how Melly gets bullied. If Amanda hadn’t been teasing her, they both would have been outside on the playground when the fire started. Ever think of that?”

  “I did, but Leo would say that’s only a but for cause.”

  “Whatever. All I know is that Melly could have died of smoke inhalation because of that brat.”

  Rose winced. “Don’t say that.”

  “I know it seems mean, but what about you guys? You moved once already because of the bullying. You can’t move again. You’re running out of planet.” Annie picked up the sponge and wiped the kitchen table. “When I read what they were saying about you on Facebook, it made me nuts.”

  “Was it bad? I’m afraid to look.”

  “You should remove all those posts. Those people are insane.”

  “They’re just upset about Amanda.”

  “Please. Did you read them? Those women are jealous of you, just because of the way you look.” Annie finished wiping the table and rinsed out the sponge. “You’re going through hell, but nobody ever feels sorry for the pretty one.”

  “That’s not what’s going on, and I’m only ‘catalog material,’ remember?” Rose was quoting her old modeling agent.

  “What an idiot he was! You were better than the other girls. Not only were you gorgeous, you were the only one who was nice to everybody, even the makeup gypsies.”

  Rose didn’t reply. She liked the past to stay past. She needed it to.

  “You know, if Melly hadn’t come along, you’d be making a fortune. Even Bernardo said so. It was the only thing he was right about.”

  “Nah, they all use actresses now. I got out just in time, and luckily, Melly did come along. Anyway, let’s talk about here and now. What if we get sued? We could lose the house. Now that scares me.”

  “Oh, man. That would scare me, too.” Annie frowned under her dark curls. “You can’t get sued for saving your own kid, can you?”

  “Leo seems to think you can, but it’s not his field.” Rose screwed the cap on the jar of tomato sauce and returned it to the fridge. “He doesn’t want me to go to the wakes, but I really feel like I should pay my respects, and it’s tonight. It’s too bad that the one night you’re in town, I ditch you. Sorry.”

  “Oh, you’re not ditching me. I haven’t seen you in, like, six months. I’m going with you.”

  Rose felt touched. “You are?”

  “Sure. You shouldn’t go alone, and I have nothing else to do.”

  “But you don’t even know these people.”

  “Neither do you.” Annie smiled, crookedly. “Besides, I go to lots of parties where I don’t know anybody.”

  “It’s a wake, not a party, and don’t you have to get back to Philly?”

  “I’ll follow you there in my car, then leave. Lend me a sweater, to cover my tats.”

  Rose smiled. “Now, that’s a best friend.”

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Rose braked in the traffic for the funeral home, which anchored Old Town, the historic district of Reesburgh, bisected by Allen Road. The late-day sun tarnished the quaint brick homes, with their Victorian porches, and next to them was a stop-time corner grocery, a mom-and-pop drugstore, and a funky independent bookstore called READsburgh.

  Rose circled the block looking for a parking space, with Annie following in her car, and they ended up finding them about ten blocks away from Fiore’s. She parked and slipped on sunglasses, having worn her hair tucked under a raffia hat. “Quite a crowd, huh?” she said, getting out of the car.

  “Yes.” Annie sniffed the air. “Hey, do you smell that? Is that French fries?”

  “It’s potato chips from the Homestead factory. You smell it stronger here in Old Town, because it’s closer to the plant, downwind.”

  “How many carbs in one breath?”

  “Don’t ask.” Rose fell into step with her on the sidewalk. The humidity was still high, making her black linen dress uncomfortable. They passed a series of graceful brick homes with restored façades and generous wrap-around porches, surrounded by tall, ancient trees in resplendent autumn leaf.

  “Where are we?” Annie’s neat head swiveled left and right. “Mayberry?”

  Rose smiled. “This is called Bosses Row, where the Allen brothers lived when they started Homestead. The company used to be family-owned, but it’s not anymore.”

  “No surprise. Families aren’t even family-owned anymore. Look at these houses. They’re beautiful.”

  “They’re over a hundred and fifty years old.”

  “Yes, massa. Remind me to take potato chips back to the boys. I’ll say they’re from Tara.”

  “You have this place all wrong.” Rose shook her head, walking along, her black flats slapping against the pavement. “It’s not homogeneous at all. It’s a company town. Most people who live here work at the Homestead
plant, and there’s plenty of professionals, too. That’s what I like, it’s a cross-section of people. Normal people.”

  “Snore.”

  Rose laughed. “You’re a snob.”

  “I’m a New Yorker.” Annie tugged at her black cardigan. “And I’m so hating on this sweater. You wear this?”

  “Sure. It’s useful.”

  “It’s so boxy, it makes me feel like a nun. Are you dead below the waist, too?”

  “Uh-oh.” Rose spotted a group of reporters on the pavement ahead of them, with cameras and klieglights. “On the left, ahead, is the press. When we get in the line, stay to the right.”

  “Gotcha.” They reached the end of the receiving line, which flowed down Fiore’s flagstone walkway and onto the sidewalk. There had to be a few hundred people here, somber and teary-eyed. Rose hadn’t realized how many people these deaths had affected, but she should have. A single life, and death, could touch so many people, and a teacher was forever.

  “Sorry, it could take an hour to get inside.”

  “I don’t mind. I’m used to waiting on line.” Annie shrugged. “The air is adding years to my life.”

  Rose felt a wave of sadness for Marylou, Serena, and Ellen. She flashed on the billowing smoke, the raging fire, and Amanda.

  Mommy!

  “Are you okay?” Annie pulled her closer, by the elbow. “You look so sad. You didn’t know any of them, did you?”

  “No.” Rose understood what she was feeling, but there was too much to say, and she’d never said any of it to anybody, not even Annie. “I keep thinking of Amanda.”

  “I understand.”

  Rose noticed a few of the teachers leaving the funeral home, making their way down the driveway to the sidewalk, a downhearted group that included Mrs. Nuru, dabbing her eyes with a Kleenex. “That’s Melly’s teacher,” Rose said, leaning over to Annie. “I should go say hi.”

  “Go. I’ll hold our place.”

  “Thanks. Be right back.” Rose crossed to Mrs. Nuru, who stopped and smiled stiffly at Rose, her hooded eyes glistening.

  “Hello, Rose. How’s Melly?”

  “Home, thanks. I’m so sorry, and Leo sends his condolences, too.”

 

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