The Lifeguards(56)

“Roma!” cried Whitney, going outside.

Her daughter looked up, and met her gaze steadily, not moving from the young man’s lap. He looked uncomfortable, trying to stand. Roma flipped her hair over her shoulder and nestled back against the boy’s chest.

She was twelve.

Whitney, overcome, marched to their room, where she found Jules and Xavier watching television. “Mom!” said Xavier.

“Hello, darling,” said Jules.

“Roma is making out with some man on the beach!” said Whitney.

Jules looked back at the television.

“Jules!” said Whitney.

“All right,” he said, standing up reluctantly. “I’ll go see…”

“Thank you,” said Whitney, though she suspected he wouldn’t do anything, just stroll to the bar and back and pretend he’d intervened. Neither of them wanted to deal with Roma, who could ruin any vacation, no matter how idyllic. “Thank you, Jules,” she repeated.

Luckily, Roma burst into the room before Jules had to do (or pretend to do) anything. He sat back down. “Hi, sweetie,” he said.

Roma ran into the bathroom in her string bathing suit, sobbing.

Whitney sighed.

“Whitney, could you purchase our daughter a bathing suit with a bottom half?” said Jules.

“I did not buy her that thong!” said Whitney.

Xavier raised his hands and made a goofy grimace, trying (as always) to smooth things over.

Roma slammed out of the bathroom wearing Whitney’s robe, her arms across her chest. Mascara leaked from her eyes. “What’s the matter?” said Whitney.

“The matter? I’ll tell you what’s the matter! Because you embarrassed me, David said we can’t hang out anymore. He said he wasn’t comfortable hanging out with me. Because of you!”

“Sorry, dear,” said Whitney. Her head was throbbing, and she went toward the bathroom, hoping she had Tylenol in her cosmetics case.

“And he was from Australia!” cried Roma. She began crying again. “I hate him!” she said. “And I hate you!”

Whitney went into the bathroom, closed the door, and sat on the toilet seat rubbing her eyes. A bleak feeling rose in her chest. Something bad was coming, she knew. They should change hotels. They should go home. Mothers talked about the hair on the back of their necks standing up when their kid was about to have a meltdown at a party. When a toddler was about to need a nap. Whitney believed in her mother’s intuition.

She pulled out her phone and found another resort closer to the city. She made a reservation for the following day, texted Colum the change in plans, found a restaurant for dinner off-site. Then she splashed water on her face and went back into the bedroom. Roma was asleep in her room, so Whitney told Jules and Xavier about the change in plans. “We’ll move hotels first thing in the morning,” she said.

No one seemed surprised.

Roma seemed calmer at dinner, picking at her fish and chips. They walked back to the resort and did not argue when Xavier made a bed out of pillows on the floor of the master. Whitney took a Xanax and slept well.

She was so deeply asleep that Jules could barely wake her when the police came.

The boy named David, the Australian, was missing. When his family had reported his empty bed, a sweep of the resort was ordered. His bathing suit and shoes were discovered by the side of the water. It was a tragedy, the other guests whispered, as they watched the flashing lights of police cars.

Whitney agreed that it was. It was a tragedy.

Jules packed their car swiftly. The Brownsons were gone before a resort employee found David’s naked body in the lake.





-8-


    Annette


THE DETECTIVE WAS KIND. He informed Annette that Bobcat’s DNA had matched the semen found in the victim. Detective Revello told Annette he could quietly exit with Robert and not cause a scene. “But you need to bring me to your son. Now,” he said.

“I’ll find him,” said Whitney. Liza looked like a deer caught in headlights, stunned. Her best friends’ obvious relief that it wasn’t their sons being arrested filled Annette with fury.

“No,” she said. “Please. Go get Louis. Tell him to get rid of everyone.”

“Whatever you need,” said Whitney. Liza nodded.

Annette led Revello to Robert’s bedroom. Robert had told his mother earlier that he and his friends had stayed up late and that he wasn’t in a party mood. She’d said he should feel free to shut his door and relax. Louis wanted his son to be social, as he was, but Annette understood how exhausting talking to others could be.

She opened Robert’s door without knocking and saw that his friends were gone and he was asleep. “Please wait here,” she said.

Revello looked reluctant, but nodded.

Annette went to sit on the side of Robert’s bed, cradling his face. His beautiful lips, his eyelashes. She wanted her son to be innocent, to be good. But she supposed almost every man behind bars had a mother who wished for the same.

Robert opened his eyes. The room smelled of Axe body spray and socks. Annette stared at him.

“Roberto, mi peque?o…” said Annette, calling her son what Maya still called her.

“What is it?” said Robert.

Annette exhaled. She whispered in Spanish, asking Robert to tell her the truth, to tell her everything.