Page 25 of Stand
An enterprising and compassionate teacher—the Mr. P., it turned out, whom Sam remembered and whom Alyssa loved so much—had taken Alyssa into the school building and was sitting with her in an empty classroom. Ty’s mother was holding Alyssa’s hand. Alyssa gave great keening sobs that went right through Sam’s heart.
Surely, this was it. Surely, nothing else could be as bad as this for these children. Surely, Julia would now see that she needed serious help and would take some time away from the children for their sakes.
“Samantha!” Mr. P.—Mr. Pazzano—said when she came in, letting her hair fall out of Megan’s chignon. Julia had ruined it anyway.
“Hi, Mr. P.,” she said, giving him a sad smile. She’d been one of his favorites, too, back then, staying after class to ask question after question about ancient civilizations until he got her an ID card to study at the local university library. Twenty years later, he had less hair and more middle but still had that air of excitement that made him such a good teacher. Sam had shushed people who’d called him Mr. Crazy when they learned whatpazzomeant in Italian.
Alyssa looked up at her from his shoulder. Megan’s mascara hadn’t stood a chance. If Sam hadn’t loved the girl before, she did now. She felt another surge of anger against the woman who had done this to such a sweet girl. Screw Cat and her sympathy for Julia. The woman was dangerous, and she was fucking up three peoples’ lives.
Alyssa hiccupped and gulped herself into some form of control. “Is she gone?” she asked.
“Yes.” Sam gently wiped away the smeared mascara under Alyssa’s eyes. “Your dad wants me to take you home. Is that okay?”
Alyssa closed her eyes wearily and nodded, slumping back against Mr. P.’s ample torso. He said, “Maybe some tissues?” and gestured to the teacher’s desk, where Sam found some and gave them to Alyssa.
“I can take her home,” Mrs. Cavanaugh said. And she was right, of course. What business did Sam have taking charge of Ty’s kids?
She nodded, but Alyssa looked up from her tissues. “Oh, no. I mean, Grandma, can Sam drive me home? I mean, Sam, can I go to your place until—until Dad and Matt are done? I wanna see Cairo.”
“I don’t know,” Sam said. “Maybe your grandma should—”
“Come home with me, sweetheart,” Mrs. Cavanaugh said, stroking Alyssa’s leg. “We’ll watch a movie.”
“No, I want to hang out withCairo!” More tears fell down Alyssa’s cheeks. She was beyond politeness and family hierarchies.
“You’re welcome to come too,” Sam said to Mrs. Cavanaugh, hoping an apology was clear in her voice. “My sisters would love to see Alyssa again.”
“You Fieldings still live up on Pemberton?”
“My oldest sister does. But they’re not Fieldings anymore.”
Mrs. Cavanaugh narrowed her eyes. “And what are you doing getting mixed up with my son again? You’re a friend of that Janine Esposito? Or Julia?”
“No.Grandma, no.” Alyssa grabbed her hand. “She helped us. Please, let her take me home?”
“I… I don’t understand.” The older woman looked from Sam to Alyssa.
“She gave Dad a ride to the airport last night to come get us,” Alyssa said. “She’s cool, Grandma.”
Sam would have appreciated the compliment if it didn’t mean Mrs. Cavanaugh being pushed out of the picture.
“We’re happy to take her,” she reiterated. “And you, too.”
“Are you sure?” Mrs. Cavanaugh said to Alyssa, ignoring Sam.
“Yes.”
“All right, then,” Mrs. Cavanaugh said in a voice that told everyone it wasn’t. “I guess I’ll go to the hospital.”
“Text your dad,” Sam said immediately to Alyssa. “Make sure it’s okay with him.”
“Thanks, Grandma!” Alyssa stood and threw herself into her grandmother’s arms.
“Text your dad first,” Sam insisted.
Alyssa backed off and pulled her phone out of the small clutch she’d brought with her. While she texted, Mrs. Cavanaugh stared at Sam. Stared this time, not glared.
“Will someone explain this to me?” she said.