Danny's Mom (21 page)

“And it's too bad Zach's grandmother isn't here, either.” Tina's voice grew even louder. “Bet you'd love to be dancing with her.” Why was Tina saying this? Had she sensed something other than friendship when she saw Kate and me together?

I stepped back from Tom. “Tina, stop it. Just stop!”

A chill zipped through the room. Everyone froze. I didn't know where Peter came from, but there he was, standing in front of me.

“It's okay, Mr. Stone,” Tom said. “We're going back to our table.”

“Mr. Harris, this doesn't concern you. And Mrs. Maller, you can take off this instant. I don't know what you and Tina were talking about, but leave it to you to spoil the prom.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

A
fter the prom, avoiding Peter became my game. I'd carry a thermos of coffee to work so I wouldn't chance seeing him by the cafeteria. And on the days I had lunch with Callie, I'd leave my office at the end of fourth period, hoping to fade into hallway traffic.

One drizzly Monday, when Kate and I decided I'd have lunch in the faculty room and visit with her after school instead, Denise came in without Mr. Rat. “Where's your furry friend?” Joanne asked.

“He's not well,” Denise said, her voice thick with tears.

“Whaddaya mean?” Callie asked.

“He was fine when I took him home for the weekend, but yesterday he was kind of quiet. And this morning, he squealed when I picked him up to clean the cage. Not his usual squeak, but sort of a cry.”

Joanne removed tomatoes from her salad. “I didn't know you could differentiate squeaks. Since when do you speak Rat?”

“Come on, Joanne.” Callie looked at me and rolled her eyes. “Give her a break. Can't you see she's upset?”

Denise opened a bag of potato chips and offered them around. “I left him home today. The vet said I should bring him over after school.”

Callie put down her sandwich. “I didn't know vets treated rats.”

“The one in Plainfield does. But I'm nervous. Mr. Rat's the best one I've had. I'm not ready to lose him.”

“Maybe it's just a virus,” Callie suggested. “He'll probably be better by the time you get home.”

Denise forced a smile. “Thanks, Callie. I hope so.”

“Or, maybe,” Joanne said, “your pet's beyond the vet.” She winked at me.

“Give it a rest,” Callie said. “That's not funny.”

Denise popped the top of a Diet Coke. It fizzed onto the table. She dabbed at the spill as she spoke. “I know you think of him as nothing but snake food, Joanne. All you see is he's a rat, and that disgusts you. It's like you put a sticker on him: R
AT
R
AT
R
AT
.” She raised her voice and looked up. “But he's not just a rat. He's my pet.”

“You're right,” Joanne said. “I'm sorry.”

We all pretended to focus on lunch until Joanne spoke again. “Did I ever tell you about the extra credit assignment I gave my global studies class?”

“I don't think so.” Denise's voice softened.

“Good thing,” Callie said, “’cause you're about to hear it now.”

Joanne ignored her. “When we studied China, I gave the kids a chance to raise their grades by doing a report on the Chinese calendar. Several kids wrote about the sign of the rat. You sure I never told you this?”

“Would it matter?” Callie asked. I elbowed her.

“So, what'd they find out?” Denise asked.

“That people born in the Year of the Rat are known for honesty and loyalty. And also, the sign of the rat's associated with charm and talent.”

“Thanks, Joanne,” Denise said. “I'll consider that a full apology.”

“It is. You know I only give you a hard time because … because … well, that's just what I always do.”

“And you do it so well,” Callie said.

“Enough, Cal,” I cut in. “I suppose in China, you wouldn't call someone a dirty rat.”

“That's scary,” Callie said.

“What?” I asked.

“That sounded like something Joanne would say.”

“Give it a rest, Callie.” Joanne barely got the words out without laughing. “Hey, I just thought of the perfect snake food, and it's not rodents.”

“Spare us,” Callie said.

“No, really. The perfect food for snakes: broccoli.” Joanne got up to go to the ladies’ room. “If the odor wouldn't kill them, the gas might.”

Denise smiled at Callie and me. “I love you guys.”

“I really hope Mr. Rat's okay,” I said as the bell rang.

“Me too,” Callie added.

But when Denise got home, we found out the next day, Mr. Rat was dead.

When I heard, I thought about that one time I touched him, the surprising softness of his fur. Yet I ran to wash my hands, unable to rid my mind of what I'd been taught: All rats are dirty; they carry germs.

By the time I left Meadow Brook High the day Mr. Rat died, the rain had stopped. Teenagers strolled through the neighborhood— some in groups of two or three, others in packs. Girls headed toward the card shop, where Mr. Fenton sold them cigarettes without asking their ages. Boys met at the 7-Eleven, where they'd hang out, leaning against Eddy Olsen's orange Mustang. I passed them on my way to Kate's.

She waved as I turned onto Pebble Lane.
Step on a crack, break your mother's back
, I said to myself when I saw her standing on the sidewalk in front of the cherry tree. She gave me a fierce hug—one that made me feel safe and protected—when I got out of the car. Then Kate ushered me in with an arm around my shoulder. We walked through the living room and into the kitchen, where spring flowers filled a vase on the table and a basket brimmed with muffins.

“This is so special. Thank you.”

She motioned to a chair. “My pleasure, dear.”

“You'll spoil me, you know. I could make a habit of coming here after work.”

“I hope you will. Getting this ready made me remember how I used to fuss when Zach's father was little. And then I did the same for Zach. But these last few years, why, he's hardly home after school. He's so busy, you know. Sports and friends. And this year especially, he's just so tied up as editor of the yearbook that … well, sometimes he barely has time to talk to me at all.” Kate stirred her coffee, looking down as if memories floated in her cup. “And next year—it's so hard to believe—he'll be away at college. Then I'll really be alone. I'm not ready to face that. Not after raising two generations. And now, without Carl …”

“You won't be alone.” Caught in Kate's spell, I forgot Callie's warning. “I'll come to visit. Often. I promise.”

Kate reached for my hand. “I really hope so.”

“Of course I will. Nothing will keep me away.”

“You never can tell, dear. You just can't know what tomorrow will bring. But right now, we need each other.”

“That's what you said the first time we spoke. ’Please keep my number,’ you said, ’because people like us need each other.’”

“That's right. I believe we do. We come into each other's lives for a reason. And I'm delighted you've come into mine. Especially now.” Kate sighed and shook her head. “Two generations of children.” She looked away for a moment. “And maybe I've come into your life for a reason too—to help you through grief, I suppose. But once you get beyond it, heaven only knows how you'll feel about hanging out with an old lady ready for a rocking chair.”

“I know exactly how I'll feel. I'll come and rock next to you.” I welcomed the mysterious pull Kate had on me, this web of affection.

After my second cup of coffee, she suggested we take a walk. We stepped outside, into the heavy dampness that hung in the air. “Oh my, you're chilly,” Kate commented when I shivered. She went inside and came back with a sea blue sweater. Kate held it around me until my hands pushed through the sleeves. Then she buttoned it up to the neck, as if I were a child. The cotton yarn felt soft against my skin.

“This is lovely, Kate. Did you make it?”

“Yes. For Helen, my daughter-in-law. Zach's mother.” She put her arm around my waist. We started walking. “You remind me of her.”

I hesitated before paralleling Kate's gesture as Tina flashed in my mind.
Don't you two do anything naughty.
“You haven't told me about Helen.”

“Oh, she was a wonderful gal. David met her in freshman English right here in Meadow Brook. They were inseparable from ninth grade on.” We turned onto Acorn Drive. “From the time David and Helen started going together, Helen spent most of her time at our house.”

“She was lucky to have you.”

“Carl and I felt lucky to have her. Helen was the daughter we never had.”

I unbuttoned the sweater as we walked, the air still heavy but not quite as moist.

“I made that sweater for Helen just before she went away to college,” Kate said. “She wore that old thing for years.”

I pulled it tighter around me. “It's beautiful.”

We crossed Pine Lane, which horseshoed around to Meadow Brook Avenue, where the 7-Eleven angled on the corner. “I want you to keep it, dear.”

“No. I couldn't.”

“Of course you could. It would mean so much to me to see you wear it.”

I didn't notice the boys still huddled by the orange Mustang as we walked across the street from the 7-Eleven. I didn't hear them when we stopped and I hugged Kate to thank her for the sweater. I didn't see them watching as Kate linked her arm around my waist again and we walked on. But I did hear someone call to me in a voice that made me shudder. “Yo, Mrs. Maller. How goes it?”

Kate stopped. She dropped her arm and looked over at the boys. “Just keep walking,” I said as I moved in front of her. Fred Morris called again, louder this time, daring me to go on. “Yo, Mrs. Maller. I said how goes it?”

“Answer him, Beth. He sounds like he'll make trouble if you don't.”

I turned and waved at the group.

“How goes it, Mrs. Maller?”

“Fine, Fred,” I called. “Come on, Kate. Let's walk.”

“How ’bout another show?” Fred yelled as we moved on.

Kate seemed to understand, leaving her arms at her sides and distance between us. The boys whistled. “Come on, ladies, another hug. And how ’bout a little kiss? Go ahead, Mrs. Maller. Plant one on her.”

As Kate and I circled back onto Pine Lane, I imagined the buzz in the phone lines that night: Fred reporting to Tina and Tina telling Jen, like the telephone game I had played as a child. One girl would say to another:
My brothers eat stew, and then they play with friends.
In a chain of whispers, the secret would travel until the last girl said it aloud:
My brothers meet at the zoo, and then they play with hens.
We'd laugh, and I'd want to start the next message.

I wondered how Fred would start his. Would he say
Mrs. Maller hugged Zach's grandmother across from the 7-Eleven?
Or,
Zach's grandmother had her arm around Mrs. Maller. Then they hugged.
Or maybe,
Mrs. Maller and Zach's grandmother were outside by the 7-Eleven. And they hugged. And it looked like they were ready to kiss.
And if it started that way, how would it sound when Tina told Jen and Jen passed it on? How would it end after snaking around Meadow Brook?

During the last two weeks of classes, I tried to avoid Fred and Tina and Jen. When I passed Tina in the hall, I pretended not to hear as she called, “Hey, Mrs. M. How you doin’?” And I ignored the stares of students who might have been linked in the chain of whispers I was sure had spread throughout the school.

I ran into Zach once in the main corridor by the ladies’ room. “Hey,” he said as he raced past me. No boisterous greeting. No Danny-like smile. Was Zach caught in the rumor too?
Your grandmother and Mrs. Maller. Are they like a couple, or what
?

Kate told me not to worry. “You know how kids are—always looking to start trouble. But we haven't done anything. Goodness gracious, dear, I've spent my life here in Meadow Brook. Everyone knows who I am. And Zach tells me he's fine. He's a popular boy. Silly rumors don't bother him.”

Peter scheduled the senior yearbook assembly, as usual, during the last week of classes before exams. Steve told me I had to attend. “Why?” I asked, at the end of the day before the assembly, when he came into my office and sunk into a chair.

“Who knows? Peter just said he wants a counselor there. Maybe he feels someone from guidance should be at the last senior gathering before graduation.”

“That's crazy, Steve. In all my years in Meadow Brook, I don't think Peter's ever invited us to a yearbook assembly.”

“But he did this time.” Steve smiled. “And you're gonna be our representative.”

“Please don't make me do this.”

“I thought you'd be glad to go. Don't tell me you're worried about those stupid rumors that were flying around.”

“You know about that?”

“Sure. But it's not a big deal. I haven't heard any talk about you in days, which means the kids have gotten all the mileage out of this that they can. Right now the rumor mill's probably grinding up someone else. So it's not even worth talking about.” Steve picked up a pen from my desk and played with the cap, pulling it off, clamping it on. “Unless … unless there's some truth to it, which of course I assume there isn't.”

I disregarded the hidden question. “So, I have to show up at the assembly tomorrow?”

“Yep, you do.” Steve looked at me. “And remember, it's not the seniors who started those rumors. Everyone knows it was Tina Roland's little group. And no one with half a brain pays much attention to those kids.”

The next morning Callie came by my office before homeroom. “Congratulations!” She closed the door, tossed a Tootsie Roll onto my desk, and hugged me.

“On what? What are you talking about?”

She sat. “Oh my God. You don't know. I can't believe I blew it.”

“Know what, Cal?” I took two Styrofoam cups from my desk, opened my thermos, and poured.

“Shit! Now I have to tell you. I just assumed you heard, what with Zach being yearbook editor.”

“Oh no. Please tell me they're not dedicating the yearbook to me. And how do you know?”

“Big ears, I guess. And now I've got a big mouth to go with them. Some of the seniors with lockers by the art room were talking about it when I came in a few minutes ago.”