Page 50 of Masquerade Mistake
There’s a break in the line of cars, and he makes his move to merge onto the offramp. That’s when I notice the plume of smoke in the direction of my mom’s neighborhood.
“Oh God,” I breathe.
“It might be a coincidence,” Ethan assures me, but I know it’s hers. Especially as we get closer. My voice breaks as I give him directions, my leg hopping from adrenaline. “Claire…”
“Don’t you dare tell me to calm down,” I say.
“I’m not,” he says. But he doesn’t say anything else after that, just takes my hand in his. My leg settles, and I allow his touch to be my anchor.
He takes the final left, then a right. His hand squeezes tighter as the firetrucks come in view, smoke pouring from my mom’s house. I let go of his hand to strip off my seatbelt, and I’m jumping out of the car before he comes to a full stop. I run toward the house, tears streaming down my face, a cry lodged in my throat.
“Miss, you can’t be here,” a firefighter says, catching me by the hand as I reach the front door.
“My mother!” I scream. I can hear Ethan calling my name, but I’m too busy trying to wrench free from the man gripping my hand. Another firefighter grabs me around the waist, pulling me back from the front door.
“She’s not in there,” he shouts in my ear. Smoke pours out the open door, and I turn my head as if it will reach out its filmy fingers and pull me inside.
“Where is she?”
“Claire!”
The firefighter loosens his hold on me as I turn toward Ethan’s voice. Next to him is my mom sitting on the curb, an oxygen mask over her face as a paramedic stands nearby. I break free and run toward her.
“Mom! Are you okay? What happened?”
Her glassy eyes rise to look at me, and I notice how dilated her pupils are, along with a yellow sheen to the whites of her eyes. I want to pretend it’s the smoke, but I know better. I look away, a sinking feeling replacing my ebbing panic.
“Where’s Duke?” I ask, turning my head to scan the faces of the neighbors watching my mom’s house as if it’s a movie. Not one of them have come over to see if she’s okay, or are even looking in her direction.
“She needs to recover,” the paramedic says, her voice void of any real concern. I turn to the woman, and I don’t miss the look of annoyance on her face, as if standing here is a waste of her time. I’m ready to say something, but I look at my mom instead. Her eyes are now closed, her pale skin the color of butter. Her head drops to the side, and I grab her shoulder so that she jerks awake again. Her eyes turn toward me, and I can tell it’s taking everything she has to focus. Then she falls to the side. I leap toward her, catching her before her head hits the pavement.
“Mom!” I shake her slightly, her frail body feeling like it will break within my grasp. Two more paramedics are at my side, and somehow, I’m maneuvered away from her. Ethan moves in, grasping my elbow, and I’m shocked back into remembering he was here. A moment of embarrassment passes through me as I realize he’s seeing the mom I know. Then I’m ashamed that I’m even concerned with anyone’s judgment. Maybe everyone thinks it’s smoke inhalation. Maybe it really is.
“Do you know what your mom was using before the fire?” the first paramedic asks me. I turn to her, shrinking under her appraising eyes.
“What do you mean?” I ask. I glance sideways at Ethan, then back to paramedic. She sighs, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.
“I don’t have time for pretend,” she says. The other paramedics are now wheeling my mother into the ambulance. Everything is happening too fast, all at once.
“I got here just a few minutes ago,” I spit out. “For you to accuse my mom—”
“Look lady, we’re going to test her anyway so we know how to treat her. But things will go a lot easier if you just tell us what you know.”
I’m torn on what to do. I want to run to my mom and protect her as she goes to the hospital. But a larger part of me is repulsed, wanting nothing to do with her. I glance at Ethan again. I feel small, like I’m the one who’s been using. I don’t know what he’s thinking, and for a moment I worry that this dose of reality will change the way he feels about me. But then he leans down and kisses my forehead. He lingers there, and I close my eyes, drawing strength from the warmth of his lips against my skin.
“It’s probably crack,” I say, turning back to the paramedic. I recall the crack pipe I found the last time I saw her, and the cigarette she’d left burning. I tell the paramedic all this as Ethan wraps his arm around my shoulder. “I told her if she wasn’t careful, she’d burn the house down.” I laugh lightly, and then out of nowhere, I’m crying. Ethan pulls me close as I shudder in his arms.
“We’re taking her to Sunset Bay Medical Center,” I hear the paramedic say as I bury myself in Ethan’s chest. I don’t miss the softer note in her voice.
An inspector asks me a few more questions before I leave, though there isn’t much I can share except for what I already told the paramedic. I feel like I’m ratting my mom out, but I decide being honest is probably my best bet. As it is, I learn the fire was concentrated to the living room where my mom usually slept during the day.
“We got here early enough that, besides smoke, the rest of the house was unaffected. But the living room is uninhabitable. The couch and floorboards were incinerated, but it didn’t go much further than that.”
I realize what he’s saying, recognizing the danger she was in if the couch caught fire.
“Where’s Duke?” I ask once again. “Did he… I mean, was he…”
“No one else was in the house,” the inspector says. “Your mother is lucky she got out in time.”