Part 18 (1/2)
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 rea.s.suring 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 transcended everything-biology, law, even time and s.p.a.ce.
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, m.u.f.fling 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.”