Rose steered down Allen Road, the window open, her elbow resting on the door, and a breeze blowing through her hair. She’d called Leo to tell him about Kristen, but he hadn’t answered, and she’d left a message. Kristen was leaving Melly without her only ally, and Rose wasn’t sure what to do. She didn’t know whether to send Melly to school or how to tell Melly that Kristen was leaving, and in the end, either way, it would be a terrible blow.
Rose stopped at a red light, and the traffic had lessened, once she was on the outskirts of town. The sky was darkening, and she scanned the neat houses with their glowing lights, a typical Sunday night in the suburbs. Parents and kids would be hunkering down around kitchen tables, doing math and French homework, or building volcanoes with baking-soda lava or teepees ribbed with Popsicle sticks. Not all the Sunday night scenes would be so idyllic, and Rose knew that, too. That, she had lived, too.
She hit the gas, and the homes disappeared among the commercial outskirts and the chain stores like the CVS, Giant, Costco, Wal-mart, and Target. Beyond them, she could see the distant outline of the school, with its long, low roofline and large wings on either side. The wings held the classrooms, and the entrance and administrative offices were nearer the left wing, on the north side. The cafeteria was also near the left, but it was built on the front of the school like an addition, with no second floor because of the skylights. Rose stopped at a traffic light, and from this distance, she could pretend that nothing had ever happened. No fire, no women in coffins, no daughters in hospitals, no angry parents, and no young teacher quitting a promising career, leaving Melly on her own.
Rose fed the car gas when the light changed, braking as she approached the school. As she got closer, she could see that the street in front was marked off by orange cones and sawhorses. Pickups and construction vehicles sat parked along the curb, ending in a rusty dumpster. The few cars around her slowed down, rubbernecking, and she found herself pulling over in front of the school, parking behind a dusty pickup with a bumper sticker, UNION CARPENTERS HAVE BETTER WOOD. She cut the ignition, and the breeze through the window smelled like burned things.
She scanned the school and understood what Mr. Rodriguez had meant. Most of the building looked the same, its brand-new brick façade and classroom wings perfect, and only the cafeteria had been damaged, like a black eye on a pageant queen. The cafeteria windows were empty holes, dark smudges marred the windowsills and brick, and a blue plastic tarp covered the roof.
Rose thought of the people who had died inside, and the long lines at Fiore’s, and to her mind, public property had become hallowed ground. It seemed impossible that there would be recess tomorrow, with kids throwing basketballs, jumping rope, and playing kickball. She could almost feel the flames licking at her ankles, all over again. She flashed on Melly, slumped in the bathroom. Emily, crying, and Danielle, running terrified. Her thoughts ended where they always did, with Amanda.
Mommy!
She got out of the car, closed the door behind her, and walked through the playground toward the cafeteria, which had been cordoned off in different sections with yellow caution tape, sawhorses, and a temporary fence of orange netting. She stood behind the sawhorse, eyeing the scene.
Klieglights lit up the façade of the cafeteria, making supersized shadows of the workmen as they went back and forth from the cafeteria to the dumpster with wheelbarrows, tarps, and trash bags of charred debris. Some of the workmen were building a plywood wall, probably the one that Mr. Rodriguez had mentioned, and a workman in a T-shirt and Carhartt overalls smiled as he walked to the pickup in front of her car. He was carrying a heavy-duty laptop, and he stowed it inside, slammed the door, and came over to her, with a confident stride.
“Can I help you?” he asked, in a friendly way. In the reflected light, Rose could see that he had an easy grin, a longish nose, and dark eyes under a white plastic hardhat with a Phillies sticker. “Name’s Kurt Rehgard.” He stuck out a large hand, and Rose shook it, feeling her fingers crunch.
“Rose. I’m just looking around.”
“Been a lot of that today.”
“I bet.” Rose eyed the bustling scene. “You guys are working late.”
“All night. The bigwigs want this school up and running, time is of the essence, and we don’t mind, I’ll tell you that. We’re all loving the OT, especially in this economy.” Kurt gestured to the work crews behind him. “My crew is all from Phoenixville, the electrical contractor’s from Pottstown, and the GC’s from Norristown. The district wanted all new on site, on account of the lawsuits they expect.”
“There’s more than one lawsuit?” Rose felt her chest tighten.
“Hell, yeah. Everybody’s pointing fingers and who’s responsible for what, who caused this, who did that.”
“I heard it was a gas leak and faulty wiring.”
“I’m not supposed to say, on pain of death.” The carpenter drew a dirty finger across his throat. “You a reporter?”
“No way.” Rose smiled. “Just a mom. You were saying, about the lawsuits?”
“Startin’ in already. The first electrical contractor says it was the GC’s fault, and the first GC says it was the gas company’s fault, and the HVAC guys are in trouble because the ductwork was too close for code, and somebody said the fire used it to spread so fast.” Kurt shook his head. “All the fire marshals, building inspectors came around, even the FBI, because of the fatalities. Then the lawyers and the so-called experts they hired, all taking pictures. It’s a damn circus.”
Rose’s head was spinning. It sounded like the lawsuits that Leo talked about at dinner, and she hoped they wouldn’t be caught in the middle, becoming the lawsuit that people talked about at dinner.
“You say your child goes here?”
“Yes. My daughter’s in third grade, and school’s open tomorrow, which seems kind of strange to me.”
“Not at all. It’s not unsafe or anything. The kids can’t go in the cafeteria, and there’ll be fire and water damage crews in the hallways, but your kid will be safe in the rest of the building. Don’t worry.” Kurt cocked his head. “I thought you were a lawyer, that’s why I came over. That, and to see if you were married.”
“Thanks, but I am married. To a lawyer.”
“No!” Kurt pretended he’d been shot, staggering backwards comically. “Dump his lame ass!”
Rose laughed.
“Hey, if you like, I’ll show you inside. You’ll see, it’s safe. You want a quick tour?”
“I’d love to,” Rose answered, intrigued. “Is that kosher?”
“The bigwigs are gone, and my guys don’t care. Act like a lawyer.”
“I can do that.” Rose ducked under the tape.