The Lifeguards(41)

But I’d made us a home here. Where could we go?

I should have been thinking of the woman. Of what had befallen her, and if my son had been a part of it. I should have been thinking of Charlie, what he had experienced and how to help him through it. But I was not.

I was thinking, Run.

Searching frantically for shoes, I found one pink flip-flop by the front door and a silver-colored one under the couch. I slipped them on and went outside into the 94-degree morning. “No reason…I just…” I stammered, jamming my key in the Mazda 5 ignition. “I’ll bring him in. I’ll bring him to you,” I said. “Would that be OK?”

He sighed. “That’s fine. When can we expect you?”

“Right away,” I said.

“OK,” said Detective Revello. “Do you need the address? I’ll text you my information.”

“Thank you.” I hung up, feeling crazed. I called Whitney again, and she didn’t answer.

I parked and slogged through the heat to reach Rosewood Pool. There he was, my adorable son, leaning against a guard stand holding a red flotation device. He was smiling up at the willowy brunette in the chair.

Oh, how I loved this boy in the red shorts I’d bought for him when he’d forgotten to buy his own pair at the end of the six-week Lifeguard Training sessions! His knees. His hair. The hair on his knees. Charlie’s brilliant blue eyes—they were Patrick’s eyes, I’d give his father that.

“Mom?” said Charlie, spotting me. “What are you doing here?”

“Hi, hon,” I said. “Can I talk to you a sec?”

“Um, OK,” said Charlie, sending a look to the girl that made her laugh. I knew I was being made fun of for some reason, which made me self-conscious.

“See you later, Charles,” said the girl.

“See you later, Kelsey,” said my son. (Of course her name was Kelsey.) She ran a hand underneath a curtain of hair and swung it over one shoulder like a horse’s mane. Ray-Ban sunglasses covered half her face, but I could still see her smirk. Why a smirk?

“What’s up, Mama Bear?” said Charlie as we walked toward the shaded entrance. (I loved this nickname, and the confident way he strode across the pool deck. His lifeguard swagger! It was different from the way he acted at home, deferential and quiet. I swelled with pride seeing my son so confident and self-assured.) “A detective from the Austin Police Department called,” I said.

“Oh,” said Charlie. His demeanor changed immediately, and he looked terrified. My heart sank, his reaction confirming my fears.

“He says it’s a routine interview,” I said, the hope in my voice sounding a lot like desperation.

“I need to check my phone,” said Charlie. “They make us lock it up while we’re on duty.”

“I think you better tell your boss you’re going home.”

“Now?” said Charlie.

I bit my tongue. Sometimes, Charlie seemed a bit na?ve, or maybe self-centered was a better way to put it. I was glad I’d raised him to feel invincible, but had I made him think the rules didn’t apply to him? That his lifeguard shift should take precedence over a police investigation?

My anxiety spun out. Was I one of the mothers I saw on TV who excused their sons’ heinous acts? Who said, “One event shouldn’t ruin my son and his precious future”?

“Yes, now,” I said.

“I’m supposed to work till three,” he whined.

“A woman is dead,” I said.

“But how do they know I—” he said, stopped himself. There was a long pause. His words hung in the air. I found it hard to breathe.

“Let’s go, Charlie,” I said, almost choking on the words.

He nodded.

In the Aquatics Office, we found John, a middle-aged guy who was probably younger than me with gray hair and a pot belly that hadn’t kept him from taking his shirt off. He was halfway through a breakfast taco, which he held suspended in midair when we appeared in his office. “Charlie!” he cried. “My man! What up?” He lifted the hand not holding a chorizo-and-cheese and gave my son a high-five.

“Um, this is my mom,” said Charlie.

“Hi, Charlie’s mom,” said John, smiling.

“Hi,” I said. “We have a family…situation…and I’m going to need to bring Charlie home for an hour, or maybe a few hours.”

He nodded, chewing. “A situation, eh?” he said.

Neither Charlie nor I responded. On his desk, I saw the Austin American-Statesman. Had the body on the greenbelt shown up in the paper yet?

“Hokay, then!” said John, seeming a bit nervous at our silence. “You going to be back today?”

“I don’t know,” said Charlie. His swagger had vanished. “Mom?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” I said.

John looked from me to my son. “Hokay, then,” he said, eyes narrowing as he sensed our worry and began to understand this was not a jovial situation.

“Thanks, John,” I said. “Goodbye.”

Charlie grabbed his bag from his locker and was texting before we reached the car. “They’re calling all of us,” he said.

“What?” I said.

“They know,” said Charlie, under his breath.