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.
“Johnnie, look at all this good stuff.” Rose eyed the hot sandwiches wrapped in aluminum foil and picked two grilled-cheese sandwiches for them, hoping to find something easier on the throat for Melly. John started pumping his fists happily, which he did when he was hungry, and it caught the attention of a female cafeteria worker, whose nametag read DORIS.
“What a cute little guy!” Doris walked over with a tray of wrapped hamburgers, flat and silvery as flying saucers. “Is he a good baby?”
“The best. Easy as pie.” Rose thought of the cafeteria workers killed in the explosion, then shooed it away. She plucked a French fry from the bag and offered one to John, who closed his little fingers around it and throttled it before it got to his mouth, where he stuffed it in, sideways. “Yummy, huh?”
“He loves my cooking.” Doris smiled.
“He sure does.” Rose went down the line, looking for pizza. The man in front of her skipped ahead to the coffee station, and she closed up behind an older woman with a short, steel-gray ponytail, who was squinting at the vats of soup, the deep lines in her face illuminated by the under-counter lights.
“Excuse me, can you read that, dear?” the older woman asked, frowning at Rose. “I forgot my reading glasses. Does that say ‘vegetable’?”
“Yes, it’s vegetarian vegetable.”
“Thank you.” The woman smiled, her hooded eyes lighting up when she saw John. “Goodness, a baby! How I miss those days! She’s adorable.”
“Thanks.” Rose didn’t bother to correct her, and Doris tried to get the older woman’s attention.
“Ma’am, did you want some soup?”
“Yes, please, just one. Vegetable. Small.”
“And you want the burgers, too. All eight?”
“Yes, I’ve got to feed a lot of people.”
“Good for you,” Rose said, trying to leave. The heat lamps shone blood-red onto pizza slices in cardboard triangles, and next to that were glass shelves of cherry Jell-O and chocolate pudding, which she slid onto her tray for Melly.
“They sent me down for the food. I’m the one who pays, naturally. I’m always the one who pays.” The older woman chuckled, and Rose took three bottles of water from a well of chipped ice.
“That’s nice of you,” she said, to be polite.
“My grand-niece is in a bad way,” the older woman said to Doris, who was putting the hamburgers in a large paper bag. “She got hurt real bad, in that fire at the school.”
Rose froze. The woman had to be talking about Amanda. It was a coincidence, but not that strange. Reesburgh Memorial was a small hospital in a small town. It meant that Amanda was still alive. Her heart leapt, and she wanted to hear more. She handed John another French fry to keep him quiet, eavesdropping.
“Sorry for your trouble.” Doris pitched ketchup packets into the bag. “I saw that fire on the news. They broke in right in the middle of my stories.”
Rose kept her head down. She wanted information, but she didn’t want to be recognized.
The older woman was saying, “The doctors thought she was going to pass this morning, but she proved ’em all wrong. It’s a rollercoaster, up and down, down and up, day and night.”
“I’m so sorry.” Doris frowned. “I’ll say a prayer.”
“Thank you. We drove across the state from Pittsburgh, when we heard. They won’t let us in to see her, for more than fifteen minutes every hour.”
“Rules are rules.” Doris handed the bag to the cashier, then turned to Rose. “Would you like to go first, miss? You have the baby, and this lady has a large dinner order.”
“Yes, thanks, I should hurry.” Rose went ahead to the cashier, keeping her head down, but she could still overhear the conversation.
“I believe in the power of prayer,” the older woman was saying. “I pray every day. Ever since my husband passed, it brings me peace and tranquility. You ask me, the rest of my family could use some good old-fashioned religion. My nephew, he’s a lawyer, and he’s just plain angry all the time. He’s up there now, ranting and raving. Hard to believe he was raised a Christian.”
“I hear that.” Doris put a floppy packet of napkins in the bag.
“He wants to sue the school and everybody in sight. He says, ‘Heads will roll!’”
Oh no. Rose got her wallet from her purse, but the cashier was taking forever, pecking the register keys. Another cafeteria worker, a tattooed teenager, came over and helped the older woman. Rose kept her head down, and the cashier stuffed the food in a bag, firing lids for the Jell-O and pudding, while the machine came up with a total.
“That’ll be $18.36,” the cashier said finally.
“Keep the change.” Rose left a twenty, grabbed the food bag, and hurried from the cafeteria. She hit the hallway, her thoughts racing. She wanted to call Leo and tell him that he’d been right. People were lawyering up. Amanda’s family, the school district, and God knows who else.
She took her phone from her pocket, juggling John, purse, remote control, and food bag. She glanced at the screen but it was still a single bar, so she headed for the hospital entrance, figuring she’d get better reception outside. But when she looked up through the glass doors, she stopped in her tracks.
Reporters mobbed the walkway, drinking sodas and smoking, their videocameras and microphones at rest. She turned on her heel and hustled back to the stairs.
Chapter Seventeen
Rose lay next to Melly on her bed, with John snoring on her chest, induced to slumber with Tylenol and carbs. The TV played softly on the Nickelodeon channel, and the saturated colors of the cartoons flickered around the darkening room. She checked her watch. 8:15 P.M. Her phone battery had gone dead, and she hadn’t heard from Leo on the hospital phone. She’d called him and left a message, then she’d called every sitter she could think of, with no luck. She could hide out in the room for only so long after visiting hours.
Rose turned to Melly, watching TV. “Mel? We have a problem, and I need your help.”
“What?” Melly looked over, her long hair messy on the pillow and her eyes tired.
“I can’t stay much longer with John, and Leo can’t take him, so I might have to go home for tonight.”
Melly frowned. “Do I go, too?”
“No, you stay here. Later tonight, if I can get a sitter, I can come back, but if I can’t, I’ll be back in the morning. You’ll have to be alone tonight, like a big girl, but I think you’ll be fine. I’m not worried about it.” Rose always said she wasn’t worried when she was, which was professional parenting.
“I wou
ld be here, all by myself?”
“You won’t be alone. There are nurses and doctors right outside the door. They sit there all night, at their desk. We can go meet them, right now.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Okay, well, before I go, I’ll make sure they’ll check on you. That’s their job, to check on the patients.”
“Why can’t I go home with you?”
“You can tomorrow, but not tonight. They want to keep an eye on you, to make sure your oxygen level is okay.”
“But I was good, Mom. I kept it on.” Melly fingered the oxygen tube, wounded.
“Yes, you were, but they need it on all night, one more night.”
“Why do you have to leave?” Melly boosted herself up on the pillow.
“They don’t let babies stay, and I can’t get a babysitter. You heard me on the phone. I have a problem, and you could really help, if you’d just stay here by yourself.” Rose went into bribe mode. “You can watch TV as late as you want, but only Nick at Nite.”
“Really?” Melly perked up as the door opened, and the nurse entered, with a smile.
“Hello, ladies,” she said, cheery. She was a young brunette, heavyset, with a broad smile. Her pink scrubs were covered with a puppy print, and taped to her stethoscope was a laminated photo of a white poodle. “I’m Rosie, the night nurse.”
“Ha!” Melly laughed, sitting up. “Same name as you, Mom.”
“Right.” Rose edged out of bed, holding the sleeping baby. “My name’s Rose, too. And we both love dogs, right?”
“Guilty as charged. I have a poodle named Bobo.”
Melly perked up. “We have a Cavalier King Charles spaniel. Her name is Princess Google Cadiz McKenna Ingrassia.”
The nurse laughed. “That’s a long name.”
“We have a lot of names in our family. We just call her Googie because she has googly eyes.”
“Cute!” The nurse lifted the blood pressure cuff from a wire basket in the wall. “Melly, I’m going to take your blood pressure. You know how this works?”
“Yes. It hurts.”
“Not the way I do it.” The nurse picked up Melly’s arm, and her gaze shifted to Rose. “I’m sorry, but you can’t stay here at night, with the baby.”
“I know, I’m leaving.” Rose smiled, to send the right signal to Melly. “I was telling Melly that you’ll be right outside the door, and she shouldn’t be worried about a thing. I’m going to let her stay up and watch Nick at Nite.”
The nurse nodded, wrapping the cuff with care. “That’s right, Melly. We’re going to have fun. I like your nail polish. I love pink.”
“Me, too.”
“Know what?” The nurse strapped the cuff closed with Velcro. “I have some nail polish at my desk, and we can do each other’s nails, later on.”
“Yay!” Melly grinned, scrambling to her knees. “I know how to do it, all by myself.”
“Really?” The nurse pumped up the cuff. “We’ll have a good time, you and me.”
“Do you like pudding?”
“I love pudding! See my hips?” The nurse chuckled, eyeing her watch. “I like it all gooey and yummy and chocolaty.” She released the cuff. “All done. You’re doing great, cutie patootie.”
Melly smiled, surprised. “Hey, that didn’t hurt. How did you do that?”
“That’s my secret.”
Melly turned to Rose, bright-eyed. “Mom, you can go now.”
“Okay, good idea.” Rose cuddled John to her chest, gave Melly a quick kiss on the cheek, hoisted her purse and diaper bag to her shoulder, then noticed the remote control on the chair. She picked it up and wedged it into the diaper bag, just to be on the safe side.
“There was a fire at my school,” Melly told the nurse.
“I know, I heard.”
“My mom got me out.”
“She’s amazing. You know why?”
“Why?”
“Her name is Rose.” The nurse winked, then turned to Rose. “Bye now, other Rose!”
“Bye, and thanks!” Rose went to the door. “Sweetie, I’ll call you on the phone in about an hour.”
“Okay, Mom!”
“Have fun! Love you!” Rose hurried down the hall and took the stairs, trying not to jostle John. She got her car keys from her purse, held John close, put her head down, and barreled through the doors.
Heads started to turn as soon as she hit the pavement, and the crowd surged toward her. Klieglights burst into brightness, cameramen hoisted videocameras, and microphones were brandished. Leading the crowd was Tanya Robertson, and she thrust her microphone at Rose.
“Ms. McKenna, how’s Melly? Is she still being discharged tomorrow? Can’t we get that one-on-one interview? Just say the word!”
“No comment.” Rose looked around for her car, but the klieglights blinded her, and the commotion woke John, who burst into tears.
Tanya persisted, joined by the other reporters. “Any comment on the condition of Amanda Gigot, Ms. McKenna?” “Did you administer CPR to any child besides yours?”
Rose spotted her blue Explorer in the lot and picked up a jog, holding the crying baby to her chest.
“Is it true that you have complained to school officials about the behavior of Amanda Gigot toward your daughter?” “Has the Gigot family or their lawyer contacted you?”
Rose chirped the door unlocked, buckled John into his car seat, jumped behind the wheel, and hit the gas, leaving their questions behind.
Chapter Eighteen
It was dark by the time Rose got home and pulled into the driveway. Her neighbor across the street was putting out his trash, and she waved to him. He didn’t wave back, though he had to have seen her. She cut the engine, got out of the car, went around the backseat, and lifted John, still asleep, from his car seat. Stale Cheerios fell to the driveway as she hoisted him to her shoulder, grabbed the diaper bag, and closed the door. She walked the sidewalk to the house, grateful for the darkness, the starless night like a cloak, hiding her from view.
She went up the sidewalk, then the flagstone path to the house, a four-bedroom colonial of solid gray stone, with a half circle of white roof sheltering the entrance. It seemed impossible that they could lose the house, but everything that had happened since Friday seemed impossible. She found her house key and let herself in, waking Princess Google, the world’s worst watchdog.
She set her bags on the couch and went straight upstairs with John, walking evenly so she wouldn’t wake him. She switched on the hall light, changed him, and put him down. He stayed asleep, his arms open, his fists balled, and his legs flopped apart like a frog’s. She tiptoed from the room and was going downstairs to try to find a sitter when the phone started ringing. She ran to the wall phone in the kitchen, and the caller ID read REESBURGH MEMORIAL.
Rose picked up instantly, alarmed. “Yes?”
“Mom?” It was Melly.
“Honey! I was going to call you soon. How are you doing?”
“They put a little girl in my room.”
“Oh well.” Rose should have thought of that, as a possibility. “That happens, sometimes.”
“That’s what Leo says. He called to say hi.”
“That was nice.”
“The mom is sleeping over with her. She’s on the other side of the curtain.”
Rose heard noise in the background. “What’s that sound?”
“She has the TV on, really loud. I can’t even hear Nick at Nite. I don’t know where the nurse went and we didn’t do our nails.”
Rose hated that Melly was there alone. “I guess she got busy. Do you see the button—”
“Mom, it said on their TV that Amanda was in the hospital. I heard it. They said her name, Amanda Gigot. Is Amanda in the hospital?”
Oh no. “Yes, she is.”
“This hospital?”
“Yes.”
“Is she sick?”
“Yes. She has what you had, from the smoke.” Rose didn’t want to lie, but she
couldn’t tell the whole truth, not with Melly by herself. “She needs more oxygen, and they’re keeping an eye on her.”
“I don’t want her to come in my room, Mom.”
“She won’t.”
“She better not.” Melly sounded anxious. “I’m already sharing it with a little kid. I shouldn’t have to share it with Amanda, too. Mom, can I come home?”
“Not yet.”
“But I don’t want to stay here, all by myself.”
Rose felt a guilty pang. “I’m going to call some babysitters and see if I can get someone to stay with John, so I can come back to the hospital. Okay?”
“Please come soon, Mom.”
“I’ll try. In the meantime, can you rest a little?”
“No, the TV is so loud. If you were here, you would say, ‘turn that down!’” Melly did a fair impression of Rose as fishwife.
“Let me see if I can do something about that TV, then get a sitter.” Rose checked her oven clock. 9:25 P.M. “I’ll call you as soon as I can. I love you.”
“Love you, too.”
“Hang in there. Bye.” Rose hung up, then hit redial to get the main switchboard at the hospital. The operator picked up, and she asked, “Can you transfer me to the nurses’ station on the third floor?”
“Certainly,” the operator answered. There was a click, and the phone rang and rang. Nobody picked up, so Rose hung up and redialed.
“I’m the one calling the third floor,” Rose said, when the operator answered. “My daughter is in the hospital, and I want to speak with the nurse outside her room. Her name is Rosie, and the TV in—”
“Hold the line.”
“No, wait!” Rose heard the same clicks and the same ringing. She waited ten rings and hung up. She took her phone from her pocket and plugged it into the charger near the toaster. The phone came to life, the red star telling her there was a message, so she pressed to the phone function. The last call was from Leo’s cell, and she pressed voicemail, for his message:
“Babe, I got your text, and I’m sorry, too. I’m up to my ass in alligators here, so don’t wait up. Hope you found a sitter and give the kids my love. You, too.”