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“Can we talk for a second?”
She looks back at her boys, who are trying to land a red ring around the tip of a bottle in hopes of winning a goldfish.
“Sure,” she says. “I have a feeling they’ll be working on this one for a long time.”
Together we amble off to the side, where she can still keep a close eye on the boys, but we’re not in the thick of things.
“What did you want to talk to me about?” Her face falls. “Don’t tell me one of the boys got in trouble again. I swear I threw that whoopee cushion in the trash.”
I laugh. “No, nothing like that. It’s, uh…” The words get stuck in my throat, and I’m seconds away from telling her it’s nothing when I catch a glimpse of Trevor out of the corner of my eye. He gives me a reassuring smile and nod, and just like that, my fear wanes enough for me to get out what I have to say. “It’s about the fire.”
“What about it? Did they figure out what happened?”
“Yes, actually, it was electrical, but that’s not what I wanted to tell you.”
“Okay.” She watches me and waits and waits a little more, and then she places her hand on my arm. “Claire, are you okay?”
Tears are clogging my nose and pooling in my eyes, and I’m seconds from losing it. I shake my head, hoping to keep from crying. Swallowing past the giant lump in my throat, I look Amy in the eye.
“I forgot your boys were in the bathroom.”
“What do you mean?” she says.
“I let the boys go to the bathroom—”
She nods. “They told me they were in there a lot longer than they should’ve been.”
“They were, but I knew they had a tendency to play in there, so I was keeping an eye on the clock. I got to helping another kid with something, and next thing I knew, the alarms were going off and everyone was rushing out of the room and the building. It was pure chaos. I ushered all of the kids outside, and that’s when I realized I’d forgotten the boys. They were still in the bathroom.”
The dam breaks. Tears fall down my face. I do my best to brush them away, but there are way too many, and eventually I give up.
“I forgot about your boys.” My voice cracks, and Amy pulls me into her arms.
I wrap my arms around her. “I should’ve grabbed them on our way out. If I would’ve done that, they never would’ve been in that situation. It’s my fault they were stuck there alone and scared, and I’ll never forgive myself.”
“No.” Amy pulls back, her face pinched. “Oh my gosh, Claire, I can’t believe that’s the way you see it.”
She’s not a blubbering mess like I am, but tears are building in her eyes.
“I can’t imagine how scary it was for you in that moment. I’m sure you were running on pure adrenaline, and you did what I would expect any teacher to do: you reacted. You got your kids to safety, and when you realized my boys were missing, you ran right back into that building to get them.”
“If I would’ve remembered they were in there, I could’ve gotten them out right away.”
“But what would’ve happened to the rest of your class? Do I hate that my boys were in that bathroom alone and scared? Yes. Do I wish they’d been in class instead of playing around in the bathroom for so long? Yes. But nothing you say will convince me that you acted the wrong way that day. I hate to think what would’ve happened to the rest of your class if you’d stopped on the way out for my boys. That fire was spreading fast, and you all could’ve ended up trapped in there.”
The more she talks, the harder I cry. I probably look like a mess standing at the pier bawling, but I don’t care because Trevor was right. It feels good to get this off my chest. And it feels good to have her forgiveness.
Amy reaches in her purse and grabs a couple of Kleenexes. “Is this why you didn’t want to take the cookies we made for you?”
I take the Kleenex and wipe my face. “I just felt so guilty, and the fact that you took the time to do something thoughtful didn’t feel right to me.”
“I took the time to make you cookies. You ran back into a burning building to save my kids.” Her lips are in a thin line, her chin quivering. “Those boys are my life, Claire. They are the reason I get up every morning. Every single thing I do, I do for them, and had it not been for you…” She swallows and dabs her eyes. “If it weren’t for you, they might not be here, and I hate to think about that because I don’t know what I would do. You gave me my life back that day, Claire, and nothing you can say is going to make me think differently, so just stop. Stop feeling guilty, and stop looking at what you could’ve done. Concentrate on what you did do.” She laughs, but it lacks any sort of humor. “Crap. Now all my makeup is running.”
I smile and wrap my arms around her again. Not because she’s crying, but because I’m feeling so much relief that I can’t not hold her.
“We’re a mess,” I whisper.
I’m not sure how long we stand there, but when we step back, all of our tears have dried, and there’s a lightness in my chest I haven’t felt for quite some time.
