“It’ll be okay, Mrs. Henderson. I promise,” he said.
The last thing he remembered was grabbing her arm with one hand. He tried his best to hold the heat in, but it escaped like a water balloon full of pinholes. Within seconds, he felt the wet liquid kissing his fingertips. He took his fingers back in plain sight and saw it.
His nose was gushing blood.
Chapter 41
When Christopher’s mother arrived at the school, Special Ed’s mother Betty was standing outside, hoovering a last-minute cigarette to endure the unscheduled parent-teacher conference. Mrs. Henderson stood impatiently next to her.
“The other parents are already in the principal’s office,” she said.
The not-so-subtle hint was completely lost on Betty, who took in one last massive puff, and then crushed the Capri out with the heel of her Ugg boot.
“Can you believe this shit?” she said to Christopher’s mother, her breath still sweet from her lunchtime Chardonnay. “I was in the middle of a massage.”
“Where’s my son?” Christopher’s mother asked Mrs. Henderson.
“He’s in the nurse’s office with the other children, Mrs. Reese. You can see him shortly,” Mrs. Henderson said, sounding grateful to have someone who could wrangle Betty.
The two women followed Mrs. Henderson to the principal’s office and took their seats next to the other parents. Mike and Matt’s two mothers looked weary, as if Mrs. Collins had been yelling at them for the last fifteen minutes. They looked up and smiled when their reinforcements arrived.
“…then how do you explain the burn on his God damn arm?!” Mrs. Collins said.
“Mrs. Collins, I understand you’re upset,” Principal Small said.
“You don’t understand a God damn thing,” Mrs. Collins said. “When my husband’s lawyers get done with this school, you’ll understand how upset I am.”
“You’re going to sue the school because your son started a fight?” Betty groaned.
“My son didn’t start anything. It was her son,” she said, pointing at Christopher’s mother.
“Mrs. Collins,” the principal said firmly, “I already explained to you. Christopher had wet his pants, and Brady was teasing him, playing keep-away.”
“And that gives her kid the right to burn my son’s arm?” Mrs. Collins hissed.
“I was there, Mrs. Collins,” Mrs. Henderson said gently. “When Christopher held their arms, he was trying to make everyone stop fighting.”
“My son doesn’t fight, Mrs. Collins,” Christopher’s mother finally said.
The room fell silent. They could see Mrs. Collins spinning through all the options in her mind. Finally, one voice cut through the tension.
“Let me translate this for you, Mrs. Collins,” Betty said. “Your son is a little sociopath who started a fight and ruined my deep tissue massage.”
Thank God Christopher’s mother was able to stifle her laugh, or she would have been out of a job instantly. But the M&M’s mothers had no such trouble. Both let out a laugh so loud that it doubled back to Special Ed’s mom, and soon, the three women filled the office with their cackles. Mrs. Collins’ face became flush, but her eyes told the real story. The Collins family was used to getting its way. There was not a problem they couldn’t get rid of with a stack of money or the right friend. But having a “problem child” was another matter entirely. And the silence that followed their laughter was deafening.
“Then I owe Mrs. Reese an apology,” Mrs. Collins said. “We’ll talk more about it tonight at work.”
“That’s very kind of you, Mrs. Collins, but it’s not necessary.”
“No, it is. We’ll talk after your shift is over,” Mrs. Collins said pleasantly.
“I’ll get my shift covered. I want to stay home with my son tonight.”
“I’m afraid my mother has been having a difficult time. She really needs the best attendant on the floor tonight. And you are the best.”
“But my son has a fever.”
“And my mother has Alzheimer’s.”
The silence returned to the room as the others realized that they had laughed Christopher’s mother right into the worst holiday-season detail at Shady Pines.
“Come on, Kathleen. Don’t be a bitch. I made the joke. Punish me,” Betty said.
“This isn’t a punishment. We just can’t all have time off when our children get the sniffles,” she said.
Mrs. Collins waited to see if Kate Reese would say something and give her grounds to fire her. But Christopher’s mother said nothing. Because the lottery paid off the past, not the future. She still had a mortgage. She still needed the job. She still had to provide for her son.
“Kathleen,” Betty said. “How the hell do you sit in