Page 99 of Absorbed

Her mom’s hand rested between Stacey’s shoulder blades and her voice softened. “Are you still bleeding?”

Stacey nodded. Her tears dampened Murphy’s fur beneath her cheek.

“Okay. That’s good. We’ll take another test again in a few days, but I’m sure this means the stress of everything yesterday ended it…naturally.”

Stacey nodded again, then pushed herself upright, tucking her feet under Murphy’s paws. “Mom, can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“I’m so thankful that I’ve had you to lean on the last few weeks. Truly. But, are you…” Stacey hesitated. “…ashamed of me?”

“God, no! Stacey, why would you think that?” She gripped Stacey's hand.

“Because I’m not the daughter you thought I was. It would make more sense if youwereashamed.” Stacey shrugged. “I’ve screwed up so much lately.”

“I’m not at all ashamed of you, Bug. You made a few mistakes, that’s true. But you’re a good person. I’m proud of how you’re handling things.” Her mom inhaled and exhaled audibly. She picked up her coffee mug and stared into it.“Honestly, I could have done a better job preparing you for all of this. If there’s anyone I am ashamed of, it’s me.”

Stacey’s eyes welled up. “You’re a really great mom. I’m so sorry I made you feel that way.”

Her mom sipped from her mug.

Murphy shifted her weight between them and rested her head on Stacey’s feet.

Stacey noticed the wildflowers on the coffee table in one of the pottery vases she’d made in art lab. “Why hasn’t Greg been around?” she asked.

Her mom followed her gaze to the flowers. “I told him I needed to take a break for a while.”

“Because of me? Greg’s a really nice guy. I don’t want you to do that.”

“I just feel like this is all so much for both you and me to think about. Even before Jessie’s accident. I’m drained. I don’t have anything to offer anyone else right now.”

“What if Greg just wants to help you through it? To be there for you? He said he has two daughters, too. He knows what this is like.”

“I mean…” Her mom’s eyebrows knit together. “I guess that is basically what he told me. But, Stacey, are you telling me youwantGreg around?”

“Yeah. I like him,” Stacey said. “He makes you happy. At least one of us deserves to be happy right now.”

“Are you sure?”

Stacey managed a half-smile. “Call him, Mom. Maybe he can make us dinner tonight.”

“Is that a jab at my cooking?” Her mom play-slapped Stacey’s knee.

“There’s no comparison. It’s not a personal attack, it’s just a fact.”

At two p.m. Monday, Stacey sat at the same conference table where Bob and the recreation director had interviewed her for the job two months before.

A woman about her mom’s age, with thick, chocolatey brown hair knotted atop her head, sat across from her, a yellow legal pad and several pens on the table in front of her. She’d hung her gray suit jacket over the back of her chair, and the white sleeveless blouse she wore had damp yellow stains under the arms.

“I’m Sylvia Lopez, legal counsel for the City of Mesa Valley.”

The fluorescent lights buzzed above them despite the bright glare from the picture window behind the lawyer.

Stacey wasn’t sure if she was supposed to speak. “Nice to meet you?” she said, the words lifting into an unintended question.

“Just to cover a few formalities: every member of the Seventh Street Community Pool will be interviewed. All of the statements will be a matter of public record. While we expect some small discrepancies in each recounting of the events of July 20th, if there is a significant difference in any testimonies we will need to clarify with further inquiries. Do you understand?”

Stacey nodded, biting her upper lip and staring at the lined yellow pad. She pulled the folded sheet of notebook paper from her back pocket.

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