The Mother's Promise(28)

“I just—”

“She’ll be fine, Mrs. Stanhope,” Mrs. Dawson said. “We know what we’re doing.”

And yet, Alice found herself reluctant to leave.

All mothers found it difficult when their children started school, Alice told herself. That was all it was. She just needed to keep her mind busy until three thirty that afternoon, when Zoe would reassure her that it had been the greatest day of her life. And with that, Alice summoned all of her strength and walked out of the school grounds and back to her apartment, where she got into her car and drove to Mrs. Stephens’s house. Mrs. Stephens had a doctor’s appointment that morning. Alice drove her there and while she was waiting, she checked her messages. Her phone had been on silent so it didn’t ring in the waiting room.

Eighteen missed calls.

She picked it up and listened to her voice mail. “Alice, it’s Angela Dawson here. Please give me a call at 650-555-4102 as soon as you get this message. Zoe’s been taken to the hospital.”

Alice didn’t remember how she’d got to the hospital, whether she’d driven Mrs. Stephens home first or if she’d just run out of the waiting room. What she did remember was the bizarre report when she got there.

“The tests were all clear.” The doctor smiled at Alice.

“But … Zoe’s teacher said Zoe was having chest pains,” Alice said. “She hyperventilated. She couldn’t breathe.”

“We tested her for several things and everything came back clean. This is good news, Mrs. Stanhope.”

“But … her teacher called an ambulance! It was very dramatic.”

“In any case, I’m just glad she’s feeling better now.” The doctor closed the manila folder in front of him, then lifted it and tapped the edge against the desk. Alice’s cue to leave.

Alice leaned back in her chair, her stance saying I’m not going anywhere.

“I’m not trying to downplay it, Mrs. Stanhope.” He gave her a patronizing smile. “What happened to Zoe must have been very scary.”

“It was. And I’m not leaving until I find out why it happened.” Alice meant it. Mrs. Dawson had successfully bulldozed her out of Zoe’s classroom when Alice’s instincts had been telling her to stay. She wasn’t going to ignore her instincts again when it came to Zoe.

The doctor’s smile faded. “Look, sometimes these things just happen. We never know why. The good news is that Zoe isn’t suffering from asthma, her heart and chest look fine, her blood pressure is good. Your daughter is perfectly healthy.”

So Zoe went back to school a week later. And, despite Mrs. Dawson’s no-parent policy, Alice had brought a chair and sat at the back of the room. If her daughter was going to have another attack of whatever it was, she was going to be there. But Zoe was fine. She followed instructions—sat on the mat for story time, did her cutting and pasting as she was supposed to. She was shier in this environment, not as likely to put up her hand or volunteer to help the teacher as Alice expected, but she was coping quite well. So the following week Alice decided to leave her to it.

Alice’s phone was already ringing by the time she got to the car.

“Mrs. Stanhope, can you please come back? Zoe’s hyperventilating again.”

Back at the hospital, the doctor told Alice she had a perfectly healthy five-year-old girl. Which, of course, was positively unacceptable. “So you’re telling me you have no idea what is wrong with my daughter?”

“Physically speaking, nothing is wrong with her—”

“But this is the second time she’s had an attack,” Alice interrupted. “I can’t keep spending my days wondering if I’m going to get a phone call telling me that my daughter can’t breathe.”

Any form of cool that Alice had hoped to exhibit was gone. Her voice was full of emotion and, unfortunately, tears.

“Has Zoe been under any stress lately?”

“Stress?” Alice exploded. “She’s five!”

“Any changes in the home? A divorce, a death?”

“No divorce. My great-grandmother died when she was two, I doubt she’d remember it.” These questions didn’t make any sense to Alice. What did any of this have to do with Zoe hyperventilating? “Please. Please. Help her.”

The doctor sat forward. His movements were slow and deliberate, even the pushing of his glasses back against his face. It rankled Alice. Why was he so calm? Why was no one worried?

“Actually Alice, the clinical diagnosis of Zoe is likely to be anxiety.”

Relief nearly bowled Alice over. “Anxiety?”

Anxiety was all right, wasn’t it? Didn’t Alice get anxious all the time? When she wasn’t sure if she’d get the bills paid, when she thought she’d left the oven on after leaving for work?

“I think it’s the most logical conclusion,” the doctor said.

“But the hyperventilating—”

“A panic attack, most likely.”

Alice stared at the doctor. A panic attack? She’d never had a panic attack over the bills.

“But … Zoe’s happy. I mean, she was until she started school.”

“Typically social anxiety does have a sudden onset. Many people report happy toddlers suddenly changing in childhood. Starting school is a common time for symptoms to start.”