Come Home (18 page)

She hustled to the car, chirped it open, hopped in, and started the engine, but couldn’t stop worrying about Abby. Jill remembered what she’d said to her, only last night.

There’s me, Abby. You always have me.

Chapter Twenty-five

Parents and kids filled the pool area, and their cheering, talk, and laughter echoed harshly off the tile walls and deck. The air was warm and thick, and the meet was already underway, but Jill had five minutes before Megan swam. She scurried up the stairs to the bleachers and spotted Sam sitting with the other swim moms and dads, Len Wynn and Rita Cohen, the McGraths, and Bill Roche and Jenny Zeleny.

“Sam!” she called out, and he turned, breaking into a grin.

Sam motioned her to come over, and Len and Rita looked up, smiled, and shifted aside to make room as Jill picked her way down the row. She sat down on the hard wooden bleacher and kissed Sam lightly on the lips.

“Hiya, honey.” Jill was already sweating under her shirt, and she could practically feel her hair curl. “I made it.”

“Way to go. What happened? Was Abby there?”

“No, but her car was. I went to the police, and they checked the house.”

“Good.” Sam nodded, his face shiny from the humidity.

“I told the police everything, but I’m still worried that she hasn’t called me back.”

Sam patted her leg again. “I gave Megan her swim bag.”

Jill could see he was over talking about Abby. “Was Megan bothered that I wasn’t there?”

“If she was, she didn’t say so. I told her you went to check on Abby, and she seemed fine with it.”

“Good.” Jill turned her attention to the pool, which was new and Olympic-sized, to accommodate the high school. Navy-and-white tiles rimmed the edge, in Sequanic High colors, matching the floating lane dividers. The far wall was a panel of glass, and it flooded the pool area with indirect light, making bright shadows of each ripple, illuminating the chop churned up by a hundred arms and legs, like a restless sea.

Sam craned his neck at the starting blocks, where the girls clumped together, a noisy flock of yellow bathing suits and swim caps, like so many baby chicks. “Which one’s Megan? I can never tell. They all look alike.”

“There.” Jill pointed at Megan, standing near the front and swinging her arms to keep them warm. The yellow spandex of her bathing suit outlined her skinny little body, and Jill could see her hips and breasts, formed but not fully mature, somewhere between girl and young woman.

“How can you always tell it’s her?”

“It’s like penguins. You know your own.”

Sam gave her a sweet nudge, and they both watched Megan, who was looking up at the bleachers, trying to find them in a way that wasn’t obvious.

“Hey, honey!” Jill called out, raising her hand, but Megan was still looking for her. “She doesn’t see us.”

“Yes, she does.”

“No, she doesn’t, I can tell.” Jill stood up, waving her arms, but Megan had already turned away and was talking to Courtney, their yellow caps close together. Jill shouted, “Megan!”

“Down in front!” called a man behind her, and Sam turned around and shot him an annoyed look.

“It’s okay.” Jill sat down, and on her other side, Rita leaned over.

“He’s from the Plymouth Meeting club. Want me to hit him?”

Jill smiled. “It’s okay, I just like it when Megan knows I’m here. We always make eye contact before she gets on the block. It’s our thing.”

“She saw you.” Sam patted her leg. “It’s okay, relax.”

Jill thought Megan looked worried as she walked toward Coach Stash. Jim “Stash” Stashevsky was only in his thirties, short but powerfully built in his yellow polo shirt and sweats. He bent over to talk to Megan, tucking his clipboard under his arm, and she listened intently, nodding as he spoke, her dark eyes looking up at him and her mouth making a stiff little line, like a dash.

Sam shifted forward on the bleachers. “You can do it, Megan!”

Jill made a megaphone of her hands. “Go, Megan, go!”

Megan climbed onto the third platform, swinging her arms, then slipping her yellow goggles down over her eyes and adjusting them on her head, her cap, and her nose. Jill knew all of Megan’s swim rituals, and the time for making eye contact with Mom was over. She’d be visualizing the race, ignoring the other swimmers as they climbed onto the blocks, shaking their arms and fidgeting with their goggles.

“Go, Megan!” Jill shouted again.

“Come on, Megan!” Sam hollered, and Rita, Len, and the others cheered for Megan, because they all cheered for each other’s kids. The parents from other clubs added to the chorus, hooting and hollering for their own kids.

Megan and the others took the positions on the blocks, bending at their bony knees, tucking their heads, and curling their toes around the edge. The electronic beeper sounded, barely audible above the crowd noise, and the girls shot into the air, stretching out their lithe bodies and extending their fingers and toes. For a split second, they were all knifing forward through thin air, transformed from girls into something that could fly. But Megan didn’t get her typical smooth start, and she hit the water behind the others.

“Sam?” Jill heard herself say, her gaze on Megan. “Did you see that? She’s off.”

“She’ll catch up.”

“No, it’s not that.” Jill had been a competitive swimmer, but she didn’t care about Megan’s time or if she won. Megan’s skinny arms started to bend and extend, but they were churning more than usual, and she didn’t move through the water the way she always did. Her hands slapped the surface, and her kick was too low, not her distinctive flutter. “Am I crazy, or is something the matter?”

“No, she’s fine.”

“Go, Megan, go!” Jill yelled. The other swimmers stroked ahead, kicking hard and picking up the pace, and Coach Stash shouted for Megan, holding his clipboard to his mouth, to amplify the sound.

Megan fell behind two lengths, then three, and the other girls reached the wall, straining for the tiles with outstretched fingertips. Megan only seemed to slow down, losing ground.

Jill leapt to her feet. “Go, Megan!”

Sam rose. “Go, Megan!”

The man behind them yelled, “Sit down!”

They both ignored him, and Jill started to worry as Megan took a few more feeble strokes, then stopped in the middle of her lane. Coach Stash hustled poolside past the cheering teammates, and before Jill knew why, she found herself in motion, climbing down the bleachers toward the pool, pushing past the other parents.

“Yo, watch it!” one man said, as Jill moved him aside. The race continued fast and furious, the crowd kept cheering, and the teams on the pool deck jumped up and down with excitement.

“Megan!” Jill cried out, just as Megan’s yellow cap disappeared beneath the water. Glare from the windows reflected on the chop, whiting out the water’s surface, obliterating everything.

“Help!” Jill reached the bottom row of the bleachers, threw herself over the rail, and half stumbled and half slipped toward the pool.

Megan was gone.

Coach Stash dropped his clipboard and dove into the water. Jill dove in behind him. The water muffled the cheering, and she opened her eyes to see Megan sinking to the bottom of the pool, her eyes closed and air bubbles leaking from her mouth.

Coach Stash reached Megan first, grabbed her by the waist, and raised her head up and out of the water. Jill grabbed her other side, pushed aside the floating lane markers, and they all popped together to the surface.

“Megan!” Jill shouted, terrified. Megan remained unconscious, her head flopped over. “Get her to the side!”

Coach Stash nodded, his eyes wide with fear. The race stopped, and the cheering silenced. Kids and parents watched in shock, and a stricken Sam came running.

“Megan, Megan!” Jill shouted, swimming with Megan, and they reached the edge of the pool. The coaches grabbed Megan and lowered her onto the pool deck. One flipped Megan onto her back and started to administer CPR, but she coughed and gasped.

“Megan!” Jill climbed out of the pool and scrambled to kneel beside her on the watery deck.

“Stay back!” shouted one of the other coaches, stiff-arming Jill, but she brushed it aside.

“I’m her mother and a doctor,” she said, turning Megan onto her side, letting her cough out the water. Coach Stash, the other coaches, and all the swimmers gathered around while Jill kept a hand on Megan, who was spasming with coughs. “Honey, let it come out. Cough it out.”

“Mom?” Megan said, weakly.

“I’m here.” Jill held her steady. “You’re okay. Everything’s okay.”

Megan expelled the pool water, inhaling deeply.

“Just breathe, honey.” Jill sent up a silent prayer of thanks, and Sam came through the crowd of coaches, horrified.

“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.”