Save Me - Lisa Scottoline [9]
“Can we see her?” Rose asked, recovering.
“Not yet. She’s asleep, and we gave her a sedative.”
“A sedative, is that a good idea?” Leo asked, and Dr. Holloeri turned to him.
“Yes. The sedation is light, and her physical symptoms are uncomfortable.”
“Can’t we see her, anyway?” Rose asked, again. “Even if she’s sleeping? It’s for my sake, not hers.”
“Mom, you’ll do her more good to go home now, clean up, and come back.” Dr. Holloeri glanced at the wall clock. “I figure, say, about two hours. By then, she’ll be coming around, looking for you. After she wakes up, she’ll want you for the duration, and I’m guessing you’ll want that, too.”
“I do.”
“Good.” Dr. Holloeri touched Rose on the shoulder, and his eyes softened behind his no-nonsense glasses. “You saved your daughter’s life today. If she’d spent another five minutes in that smoke, we’d be having a much different conversation.”
Leo looked over, with a surprised smile. “Babe, jeez. That’s amazing.”
“No, not really.” Rose reddened, secretly ashamed. She felt like an imposter, knowing that she’d rolled the dice with her daughter’s life. It was dumb luck that had saved Melly.
“Okay, take care.” Dr. Holloeri smiled. “I ought to get back to work.”
“Thanks so much.” Rose gave him a hug.
“Yes, thanks.” Leo shook his hand again. “We really appreciate all you’ve done for her.”
“You’re very welcome. Stay well, folks.” Dr. Holloeri left the waiting room, and Rose and Leo followed, bade him another good-bye, and passed through the automatic doors at the ER exit.
Rose took Leo’s arm as they stepped outside, and her nose and throat stung in the humid air, an Indian summer that just wouldn’t quit. The sun burned over the pin oaks surrounding the entrance, their large, spiky leaves turned splashy red and rich rust. They shed brittle leaves on the walkway, where a small crowd stood, their heads swiveling to Rose and Leo. One of them was a TV anchorwoman in thick foundation and a bright red suit.
“Hello, Ms. McKenna!” the TV anchorwoman called out, flashing a camera-ready smile. She made a beeline for them, a microphone in her manicured hand, and she was followed by a producer-type and a photographer, who rested a bulky videocamera on his shoulder. “I’m Tanya Robertson, at Channel 9. I’m so honored to meet you. You’re so brave!”
“Oh, no, please.” Rose stiffened, aware that nurses, orderlies, and a uniformed security guard were watching, since Reesburgh didn’t get many visits from TV celebrities.
“Okay if we film?” Tanya grinned, raising her microphone. Behind her, the cameraman pressed a button with his thumb, and the videocamera whirred to life.
“No, please, I’m a mess.” Rose put up a hand.
“Come on, you look great. How’s your daughter Melinda? Her nickname’s Melly, right? Is she out of the woods?”
“She’s much better, thanks.” Rose looked around for an escape route, but the producer and cameraman blocked the path.
“We understand that you saved her life. Tell us how.”
“No, thanks.” Rose wanted to forget about today, not relive it for TV.
“Aw, my wife is too modest.” Leo squeezed her tight. “In five more minutes, our daughter would have been dead.”
“Really?” Tanya’s mascaraed eyes flew open, and the cameraman filmed away, the black lens hood moving forward and back. “Ms. McKenna, what did you do to save your daughter?”
“Nothing, no. Please.” Rose cringed.
“Tell us!”
“I did what any mother would do.” Rose took Leo’s arm. “Now, excuse us. We have to go.”
“But you’re a hero, a hero mom!” Tanya practically cheered. “Don’t be so modest. Your hubby’s right.”
“Let’s go, hubby.” Rose walked past her, and Leo fell into step.
“Wait, wait!” Tanya hurried to follow them, keeping her microphone pointed at Rose, her crew at her heels. “Ms. McKenna, your story is the silver lining. There were three fatalities in the explosion, a teacher and two cafeteria workers.”
Rose stopped in her tracks, horrified. Leo looked over, equally stricken, but he got them moving when the TV reporter started in again.
“Ms. McKenna, your story can lift so many hearts.