Come Home

by Lisa Scottoline

  “Is she okay?”

  “Yes,” Jill answered, holding back tears of relief.

  Later, Jill, Sam, and Coach Stash stood at the exit of the high school, where the ambulance was driving around to pick Megan up. A healthy pink had returned to her cheeks, and she was breathing normally, sitting wrapped in a yellow team towel. She’d taken off her swim cap, and her dark blonde ponytail hung down her back, its tip wet, like a brush dipped in black paint. She sipped water from a bottle, and Courtney sat next to her in a wet bathing suit and towel, providing moral support.

  Jill touched Megan’s shoulder. “Feel better, sweetie?”

  “Yes, I’m fine.” Megan glanced over her shoulder at the pool, where the other swimmers were visible through the windows. “I don’t have to go to the hospital, do I, Mom?”

  “Yes, it’s a good idea to have you checked out.”

  “But can’t you guys drive me, please? An ambulance is so embarrassing.”

  “It’s safer this way, just in case.”

  “Do we have to? I’m fine, now, I really am.”

  “Let’s do it this way, honey.” Jill patted Megan on the shoulder.

  “It won’t have the siren, will it?”

  “I don’t hear one.”

  Megan set down the water bottle, then glanced back at the other swimmers again. “Court, is he there?”

  Courtney nodded, and Jill realized that Megan was embarrassed in front of her new crush.

  Megan looked up at Coach Stash, her eyes baleful. “I’m sorry, Coach. I let you down, and the club.”

  Courtney shook her head, her goggles around her neck. Her cute little mouth tilted down at the corners. “No, you didn’t, Megs.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” Coach Stash shot Megan a wink, his team towel over his soaking sweats. His wet hair was a shiny black helmet. “Nice warm water, big-time pool. I felt like a swim, and so did your mother. Right, Jill?”

  “Right.” Jill smiled, grateful for his kindness to Megan. “You’re fast, Coach.”

  “If I’m not, I’m fired.”

  Megan looked up at him. “Will we lose now, Coach? Because of me?”

  “Just focus on getting better.” Coach Stash patted her on the shoulder. “You’re our star, Megster. You’ll always be our star.”

  “I warmed up so well.” Megan shook her head. “All of a sudden, my heart started beating real fast. It felt like I was going to die. Like it was going to jump out of my chest.”

  Courtney looked over at Megan. “Was it like that time we had the triple shot at Starbucks?”

  “No, worse. A lot worse.”

  Jill already had a diagnosis, and it wasn’t a difficult one. “Honey, when did it start, your heart beating so fast?”

  “Before the race. My hands got sweaty, too. My palms.” Megan showed her hands, palms up. “At first I thought it was pool water, but when I wiped it off on my suit, it kept coming back. It got worse when I got on the block. I thought it would go away, but it didn’t.”

  “Could you see okay?”

  “Yes.”

  “Hear any weird sounds?”

  “No.”

  “Dizzy?”

  “No.”

  “Any headache?”

  “No, and when I dove, I couldn’t catch my breath and my heart wouldn’t stop, and then I just, I don’t know, went unconscious.” Megan looked down. “I drank my water, Mom, I did.”

  “I know, honey.” Jill didn’t think it was dehydration, and Megan had no history of heart problems or low blood sugar. Suddenly, an orange-and-white ambulance reversed into the driveway and braked, then the back doors opened and a paramedic sprang from inside, rolling out a gurney on wheels. The kids at the pool pressed closer to the window, and Megan groaned at the sight.

  Jill helped her to her feet. “Let’s go, sweetie.”

  Megan rose. “Thank God there’s no siren.”

  Courtney got up, too. “I’ve never been inside an ambulance. I think it’s awesome, Megan.”

  “Mom, can she come with us?”

  “Sorry, I don’t think that’s allowed. You’re stuck with me.” Jill motioned the paramedics over with the rolling gurney, and Megan lay down so they could strap her in.

  And just then, the ambulance’s siren went off.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Jill sat in the hard chair in the examining room, her damp clothes sticking to her body. She’d dried off as best as she could with some paper towels, and she and Sam were alone together while Megan had been taken off for tests. A fluorescent panel overhead shed bright light, and the pastel blue walls were covered with inspirational posters and state-of-the-art equipment. The air smelled of an antiseptic that did little to stop bacterial infections, many of which were spread by doctors who didn’t wash their hands between patients. But that was one of the profession’s dirty little secrets.

  “So, what do you think?” Jill asked. “Panic attack?”

  “Agree.” Sam was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. “It’s been tough for her, lately.”

  “Yes, it has.” Jill shook her head, kicking herself. “And all I could think of on the way here was Abby. I even called back a bunch of patients, and I worried about one of them, Rahul, a baby waiting on a CBC. I worried about all of them, not Megan. You can say I told you so, anytime.”

  “No, I wouldn’t, you know that.”

  “Thanks.” Jill appreciated him being so kind. “Panic attacks are symptomatic of anxiety. All in one weekend, she lost her stepfather, got thrown out of a church, and was reunited with her ex-stepsister, who puked on her bed.”

  “Don’t beat yourself up.” Sam straightened up, walked over, and stroked her hair, which was finally drying. “After all, you’re the mom who jumped into the pool to save her.”

  Too little, too late.

  “Honey?” Sam asked, and Jill realized she’d lost focus, remembering what Victoria had said, this morning.

  “Sorry.”

  “You were in that pool before I knew she was going under. I thought you were going to dive on top of Coach.”

  Jill knew he was trying to cheer her up, but it wasn’t working. She felt so guilty, first over Abby, then over Victoria, and now over Megan. She’d been trying to mother all the girls and failing each of them. She didn’t know how she had managed being a mother of three before, or how any mother did it, with more than one child. It wasn’t just a juggling act, it was a magic act.

  Sam touched her shoulder, gently. “Maybe we should think about making an appointment with Sandy, for Megan. Let her talk it out, explore her feelings about William’s death.”

  “I’ll think about it.” Jill groaned. “I’m not only a bad mother, I’m a bad ex-stepmother.”

  “It’s okay.” Sam rubbed her back. “You want some coffee? I saw vending machines in the hall.”

  “I would, thanks.” Jill smiled up at him, and Sam bent down and kissed her on the cheek.

  “Be right back. Hang tight.”

  “Thanks. I really love you, you know that?”

  Sam lifted his eyebrows, surprised. “What did I do right?”

  “Everything. Sorry it was such a difficult weekend.”

  “No apology necessary.” Sam flashed her a reassuring smile, then left.

  Jill tilted her head backwards, against the wall. She wondered if Victoria had been right, and she had blown everything out of proportion. Maybe Abby had met a cute guy and stayed out all night. Maybe William wasn’t murdered but filled the scripts in disguise, for the reason Sam had said. Maybe Abby was in denial, and Jill had jumped at the chance to get back into her life, to have a permanently needy child at home.

  We’re not yours anymore.

  Jill swallowed hard. She thought of the Venn diagrams again and pictured herself stuck in the intersection of circles, a member of both families at once, conflating past and present. Katie had said that motherhood had no expiration date, and Jill had agreed, believing to the bone that that it transcen
ded everything—biology, law, even time and space.

  Abby’s in our family, Mom. You just can’t kick someone out of your family.

  Jill thought of what Megan had said that day, feeling the weight of her words and their truth. Jill resolved to fight harder, for her family, and she couldn’t neglect Megan just because Abby was missing, especially because Megan was probably worried about Abby, too.

  Jill slid her BlackBerry from her purse, relieved that she hadn’t had it in her back pocket when she’d jumped into the pool. She checked it, but there were no new messages from Abby.

  I’m glad you didn’t change your phone number. Am I still A on your speed dial?

  Jill scrolled to her phone log, found the last time that Abby had called her from her cell phone, and saved the number to her speed dial, under A.

  Now all Abby had to do was call.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Jill set the swim bag and purse down in the entrance hall while Beef met them all at the front door, wagging his tail and sniffing all the strange new smells. “Hiya, Beef,” she said, dropping her key into the bowl.

  “Hey, pal.” Megan scratched the golden behind the ears. “Guess what? We lost.”

  Jill looked over. “Don’t let it bother you, honey.”

  “Right.” Sam closed the door behind them, muffling the noise of a neighbor’s lawnmower. “Dogs don’t care about winning and losing. They’re too smart for that. They love you, no matter what.”

  “I love you, too, boy.” Megan bent over and kissed Beef on the muzzle, and Sam whistled for the dog.

  “Come on, Beefsteak. Wanna go out?” Sam went to the back door, and Beef trotted after him, his nails clicking on the hardwood.

  “Let’s eat,” Jill said, going to her comfort default. “Anybody else hungry?”

  “I am.” Megan flashed a game smile. She looked like herself again, her eyes bright and her hair dry, in its messy braid. She’d changed into a gray hoodie and jeans at the hospital, and the ER doc confirmed that she’d had a panic attack. She hadn’t asked any questions, and if it’d bothered her, she hadn’t let it show. Jill was wondering if that was part of the problem.

  “Megan, I’m going upstairs to change, and I’ll be right back.”

  “Okay. I’ll get a drink.”

  “Oh, wait, I’ll get it for you.” Jill started into the kitchen, but Megan waved her off with a smile.

  “Mom, I can get it myself. You don’t have to baby me.”

  “Okay.” Jill checked herself. “Be right down.”

  “Good. Love you.”

  “Love you, too.” Jill gave her a quick kiss, then went upstairs to her bedroom and peeled off the clammy shirt, then her jeans. She was about to toss them in the hamper, but they felt heavy, and she realized she’d left her BlackBerry in her pocket. She pulled it out and checked the messages, but there were none. She slid into her go-to jeans and a thin white T-shirt under a navy cotton sweater, then found a barrette and clipped up her wet hair. She slid the phone into her back pocket and went downstairs to the kitchen.

  “Hi, Mom.” Megan was writing in her binder, already doing her homework at the kitchen island. The pink troll doll that sat atop her pencil wiggled with each stroke, and her phone rested near her right hand.

  “Hiya, sweetie. Why don’t you put your notebook away and take a break, until after dinner?”

  “I can’t, I have to finish this dumb worksheet.” Megan wrote in her notebook while checking her phone.

  “Honey, no phones at the table, okay?”

  “We’re not eating yet, and everyone’s texting. They want to know how I am.” Megan looked up, eyes pleading, pencil poised. She had spent most of the ride home answering text messages, and Jill was guessing that the mystery boy was one of them.

  “Okay, just for today.”

  “Thanks. Can we have grilled cheese?”

  “For dinner? I could make salmon, and we have brown rice.”

  “Nah, I’m hungry, and I have to finish my homework.”

  “Do you need more time? I can probably get you an extension, if we show them the ER doctor’s note.” Jill realized it was the wrong thing to say as soon as she’d said it, and Megan winced.

  “No, I can do it, and I don’t mind grilled cheese. Is that okay?”

  Sam came into the kitchen, with Beef trotting behind. “Grilled cheese is fine with me, too,” he said, going to the island.

  “Grilled cheese it is.” Jill went to the fridge, feeling a warm rush of love for Sam. He’d eat anything to make Megan happy.

  “Mom, can we put the tomato inside, like last time?”

  “Sure.” Jill rummaged in the fridge and retrieved a block of cheddar cheese, bread, and two tomatoes.

  “Awesome.” Megan filled in a blank on her worksheet, and Sam looked over her shoulder, sliding his reading glasses on.

  “What’re you working on, kitten?”

  “Health. It’s so dumb.”

  Sam eyed the worksheet. “Ask me about fallopian tubes, go ahead. I’m an expert. I have five.”

  “Eeeww!” Megan squealed, giving him a playful shove, and not long afterwards, the kitchen was filled with the delicious aroma of grilled cheese sandwiches, the merry noise of talk and laughter, and the sweet snoring of an overweight golden. Not to mention the occasional beep of a text message.

  In other words, a family.

  Or at least, most of one.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Jill took her time tucking Megan into bed, because that was when they usually talked things over. She knew Megan had a lot on her mind, because she’d grown quieter as night fell. “How you doing, sweetie?” Jill asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.

  “I’m okay, I guess.” Megan pulled her covers up, watching Beef circle a few times before assuming his customary curl on the bed. “He’s making his glazed doughnut.”

  “He’s beyond cute.”

  “What a good dog.” Megan patted Beef’s back, where his coat curled in waves.

  “He sure is.” Jill moved some hair back from Megan’s face, and her eyes glowed in the warm light from the lamp, on her nighttable. White dots of acne medication made a constellation on her chin.

  “Did you throw my other sheets away?”

  “No, Sam took them to the Laundromat. The comforter, too. Wasn’t that nice of him? So I didn’t have to.”

  Megan grinned. “Gross, right?”

  “I’ll say. What a guy.”

  “You don’t always have to tell me how great Sam is. I know he’s great. I love him.”

  Jill’s throat caught. She hadn’t realized she did that, but Megan was right. “I love him, too,” she said, simply. “So what’s on your mind? I can tell those wheels are turning.”

  Megan frowned, her smooth forehead creased by one tiny line. “Like, I don’t know what comes after you die. What do you really think happens?”

  “Really?” Jill guessed Megan was talking about William, and maybe Gray, too. “I think your spirit lives on, with God. I think all your emotion and thought and heart can’t just vanish.”

  “Do you think somebody killed William? Courtney says there would be more evidence, like CSI.”

  Jill hoped to ease Megan’s mind, not upset her before bed. “I don’t know, but I told the police about it, and they’re looking into it.”

  “You did? When?”

  “Today. That’s why I was late to the meet, and I’m sorry about that.”

  “It’s okay, Sam told me. Do you think Abby’s okay?”

  “I’m sure she is.”

  “But she still hasn’t called you. I saw you checking your phone, after dinner.”

  “I’m hoping she will soon.”

  “I sent her a message on Facebook, but she didn’t answer yet. I sent one to Victoria, too. She didn’t answer, either.”

  Jill hid her annoyance at Victoria. “When did you do that?”

  “When I was doing my homework.”

  Jill let it go. She d
idn’t like the multitasking that Megan did, but she knew it couldn’t be stopped. Her own mother used to say, do one thing at a time, but those days were long gone.

  “Abby has lots of guy friends on her Facebook page. I was thinking that she could be with a guy friend. Maybe she’s not really gone, or missing.”

  “You’re right, that’s what I’m hoping. Don’t worry about Abby. Leave that to me.” Jill tugged the comforter up, and next to Megan, Beef lowered his head onto his paws, closing his eyes. “You need to get a good night’s sleep.”

  “Am I lame because I had a panic attack?” Megan asked, after a moment.

  “No, of course not.” Jill kissed her warmly on the cheek. “It’s been a hard weekend, with the news about William. On top of that you have homework, the meet, Abby, and your Guitar Hero. There’s a lot of emotion, all at once. It’s too much for anybody to deal with, even somebody as strong as you.”

  “I thought I was having a heart attack.”

  “I bet. You weren’t, it just felt that way.”

  “I thought I was going to die. You can’t die from a panic attack, can you?”

  “No, of course not.” Jill stroked her cheek.

  “I mean, what if I die tonight? In my sleep?”

  “Honey, no, that can’t happen.” Jill was about to launch into a medical explanation, but stopped when she read Megan’s expression. Her brow wrinkled deeply, and her lips clenched over her braces, in what was becoming a nervous habit. Megan was an anxious little girl in the body of a young woman, and she didn’t need a pediatrician, she needed a mom. Jill gathered her up and gave her a big hug. “Everything’s going to be okay, honey. Don’t worry about a thing.”

  “Wanna lie down with me a while, Mom? Like we used to?”

  “Good idea.” Jill released Megan, then reached up and turned off the light, leaving them both in a soft, velvety darkness. “Move over, okay?”

  “Sure.” Megan shifted over in bed, and so did Beef, which left a skinny strip for Jill at the edge of the bed, only as wide as a balance beam, but familiar to mothers everywhere.