Claudia And The Terrible Truth (8 page)

    I grabbed Joey's hand and Erica took Nate's. We ran toward my mom's car, pulling the boys along with us. Mom and Mrs. Nicholls had reached the car by then, and Mom had already hopped in and started the engine. I opened the door to the backseat and helped Joey and Nate in, then followed them. Erica went to the other side of the car to help fasten seat belts. I threw my bike in the trunk.
    "Never mind the seat belts for now," said my mom. (I never, in a million years, thought I'd hear her say those words.) "Everybody in?" She turned to count heads. And at that moment, I heard the front door slam. My heart thudded crazily in my chest until I saw the empty porch and realized that Mr. Nicholls had closed the door from inside.
    "I guess he's not coming out," Mrs. Nicholls said in a flat voice. "He's going to let us go." I couldn't tell what she was feeling. Relief? Fear? Sadness?
    My mom didn't answer. Instead, she patted Mrs. Nicholls on the shoulder. Then she put the car into reverse and backed down the driveway.
    And as we drove away down Elm Street, I let out a huge sigh, almost a sob. I felt as if I'd been holding my breath for a million years.
    Chapter 14.
    "Is everybody okay?" my mother asked. Her eyes met mine in the rearview mirror. "We're safe now. Let's all just take a big, deep breath and try to relax a little. And Claudia, you can check those seat belts now." She sounded so steady and controlled. I don't know how she did it. I tried to do as she said and take a deep breath. Then I fixed the boys' belts. In the front seat, Mrs. Nicholls sat with her head in her hands, sobbing quietly. Erica and I exchanged a glance over Joey's and Nate's heads. Her eyes were still wide. Whatever she'd seen had really scared her. Nate sat next to me, tears running down his face. I had the feeling he didn't even know how hard he was clutching my hand. Joey sat on the other side of Nate, arms folded close to his chest. He wore a blank expression. I winced every time I glanced at him and saw that black eye.
    "Erica, I'm going to drop you off at home, if that's all right,” my mom said. "Don't you live on Forest Drive?" Erica nodded, then realized my mother couldn't hear a nod. "Yes," she said, barely squeaking out the word.
    "Will somebody be home? Somebody you can talk to?" asked my mom. She sounded concerned.
    Erica nodded again. "My mom's usually home by now." "Good. We'll call you later to check in and see how you're doing." "Okay." I could tell Erica was about to burst into tears, and I couldn't blame her.
    When my mom pulled up in front of her house, Erica gave each of the boys a quick hug good-bye and thanked my mother. She whispered a good-bye to Mrs. Nicholls, who was still crying. Then she jumped out and ran to her house without looking back.
    "Mom?" I asked as we drove away. "Where are we going?" I could tell she had some kind of plan in mind.
    "To Stamford," my mother answered. "To your father's office. Nobody will think to look for us there, at least, not right away." By "nobody," I knew she meant Mr. Nicholls.
    Mrs. Nicholls raised her tear-stained face for a second to look at my mom. "Thank you," she choked out. "Thank you." Nobody talked much on the way to Stamford. My mom concentrated on her driving. Nate finally stopped crying, but his mother couldn't seem to. Joey's face was still blank. And me? I was in a state of shock. Everything had happened so fast.
    In Stamford, rush hour was beginning and the traffic was heavy. Slowly, we made our way to the building where rny dad works, and my .mom parked in an underground garage nearby. We climbed out of the car and stretched. Mom took me aside. "Let me go up first," she said. "I'll explain things to Dad." We gave her a head start, waiting in the garage until Nate whispered to me that he had to "go." I checked my watch and figured that Mom had had a few minutes with my dad by then, so I led the way to his office, making a stop at the men's room. The office was emptying out by then, so we received only a few looks from employees as we trooped through the halls.
    "Welcome," Dad said, opening the door to let us in. His face was serious, but his expression was warm. He showed Mrs. Nicholls to the small couch along one wall of his office (he's been known to nap on it, but don't tell his boss). Then he and Mom sat down facing her.
    I took the boys to my dad's desk and tried to distract them quietly. I showed them how his chair spins around and let them try out all his pens. Then I remembered he has a tic-tac-toe game on his computer, and I set that up for them to play. By then Joey had begun to look less frozen, and Mate's tears had dried. They were still scared but I had the feeling they were beginning to feel a little relieved too. I was glad they knew me well enough to feel safe and comfortable with me.
    Meanwhile, I kept one ear out for the conversation between my parents and Mrs. Nicholls. She couldn't stop thanking them, and she kept apologizing to my mom for avoiding her in the past week. "It's so hard to explain," she kept saying. "I know you can't understand it, but I do still love him. And I kept hoping that things would improve." "We'll do our best to understand," said my mother. "We certainly don't judge you for wanting to keep your family together. But for now —" "I know, I know," said Mrs. Nicholls. "For now, we just have to make sure the boys are safe. And that means I'm not going home. Not for awhile, and maybe not ever. I also need to call Ms. Barber from the Department of Children and Youth Services — I might even have to call . . . the police." She started crying all over again when she said that. My father handed her a box of tissues, and my mom made comforting sounds.
    Then they moved on to the next question. "Have you thought about where to go?" asked my mother.
    "Have I thought about it?" echoed Mrs. Nicholls. "I've thought about it all the time. I just kept hoping it wouldn't come to this." She sighed. "But now it has. So I think what I'll do is call my sister. She lives in upstate New York, about four hours from here. She's always begging me to bring the boys for a long visit." "That sounds perfect," said my dad. "Would you like to use my phone to call her?" Mrs. Nicholls nodded and blew her nose on a tissue.
    While she made the call, my parents had a quick conversation. Then my mom said to me, "If you feel comfortable staying here with Mrs. Nicholls and the boys, your father and I will drive back to Stoneybrook to fetch her car. Then she can leave from here to go to New York." I told her that was fine with me. I felt safe in my dad's office, and I could see that the boys did too. And spending a little time here would give everyone a chance to calm down and relax a bit. "Is that Chinese restaurant still across the street?" I asked. "Maybe I could call and order some food while we're waiting." "Terrific idea," said Mom. She opened her purse and gave me some money. Then she squeezed my shoulder. "Thank you, Claudia," she whispered.
    By then, Mrs. Nicholls had finished her call, "She says she can't wait to see us," she reported. 'And guess what, boys? Aunt Sissy has a brand-new puppy. Won't that be fun?" She was still sniffing, but her tears had stopped for the moment.
    My parents left, and the four of us pored over a menu from the Chinese restaurant. Then, over egg rolls and vegetable lo mein, we talked about puppies and car trips and games Mrs. Nicholls and h,er sister used to play when they were young. We talked about all kinds of things — except for the one big thing that none of us could stop thinking about. Then, just as we were polishing off the last of the fortune cookies, my parents returned.
    "You have a full tank of gas," my father told Mrs. Nicholls, "and we've stocked the car with juice and snacks. I think you're all set." "How can I thank you?" asked Mrs. Nicholls. "You've done so much, and I —" "Shhh," said my mother, "Thanks aren't necessary. Just, please, take care of yourself. And let us know how you are. Call collect, anytime. Call soon." Mrs. Nicholls hugged me and my parents.
    Then I knelt and opened my arms for a big hug from Joey and Nate. "I'll miss you," I told them.
    We walked them down to the parking garage, watched as they settled into their car, and waved as they drove away. Then we climbed into our own car, and my father started the engine. The second my mother closed the door behind her, she began to cry. I joined her, and it was a big relief to cry. After awhile, we began to talk about what had happened.
    "I know it's hard," said my dad, reaching out to pat my mom's hand, "but I think they'll be better off." "I sure hope so." My mom sighed.
    "It can't be any worse," I added, thinking of the way Mr. Nicholls treated his sons. 'At least they won't be in danger." "But this isn't the end of the story," my father reminded me. "The Nichollses have to face this issue and deal with it. That may mean a divorce, or it might mean that Mr. Nicholls realizes he needs help and begins to deal with his problem. Mrs. Nicholls is going to call the woman from the Department of Children and Youth Services, and hopefully they'll find a way to work things out." I nodded. I knew there was still a long way to go for the Nichollses. But I couldn't help being glad about the fact that Joey and Nate would be sleeping soundly and safely that night, far away from their father.
    I didn't sleep too soundly myself that night. I tossed and turned, thinking I'd never fall asleep. And then, just when I felt myself drifting off, the phone rang. I checked the clock as I answered. It was midnight. Who could be calling?
    "Hello?" I said sleepily.
    There was a pause. Then I heard a man's voice, yelling so loudly that I had to hold the phone away from my ear. "Give me back my wife!" he shouted. Then he started to cry.
    It was Mr. Nicholls.
    I hung up without saying a word. And then I lay awake for the rest of the night.
    Chapter 15.
    Somehow, I made it through the next day. I think I was sleepwalking through most of my classes. After school I came home and, after a quick snack, lay down for what I thought would be a ten-minute nap.
    I didn't wake up until Kristy burst into my room. "lime for our meeting, sleepyhead!" she said, tickling my feet.
    I groaned. But then I sat up, rubbed my eyes, and started to think about what junk food I had hidden where. "Is Erica coming?" I asked. I'd suggested to Kristy that we invite Erica to our meeting. My mom told me about this thing called "closure," which means you've talked something over and worked it out, until you feel ready to move on. She was the one who suggested that we use our regular BSC meeting to try to reach some closure on what had just happened.
    "I talked to her during science class, and she said she would," Kristy answered.
    At lunchtime that day, I'd given my friends an update on what had happened the day before— from Erica's call to Mr. Nicholls's. I knew that by now someone would have told Mal and Jessi (who have a different lunch period) about it too. I was grateful for that. It meant I wouldn't have to tell the whole horrible story all over again.
    I rummaged around under my bed and came up with a bag of peanut M&M's. Then I walked to my bookshelf, pulled out a dictionary, and checked behind it. Sure enough, there was a box of Triscuits. Good. I was prepared for company.
    Stacey showed up next, and then Mary Anne arrived. By five-thirty, everyone was on hand, including Erica. I passed around the munchies and we began to talk about what had happened.
    "I can't believe he called here last night," said Erica. She was sitting on the floor, near Jessi and Mal. She hugged her knees. "'That's just so, so creepy." "I know," I said. I helped myself to a small handful of Triscuits. "I hope that never happens again." "If it does, we'll just have to change our business number," said Kristy.
    That surprised me. I would have expected her to fight that idea to the bitter end. "What about our clients?" I asked. "They're all used to this number." "They can learn a new one,” said Kristy, shrugging. She popped two yellow M&M's into her mouth. "I'm more concerned about you getting enough sleep. The BSC needs you." Hearing that felt good. I had to admit I was looking forward to sitting for some of our regular, uncomplicated clients. Even Jackie Rodowsky would be a breeze after what I'd been through.
    "I still don't understand," said Jessi, musing. "How can anybody hit their kids? Kids are defenseless, and they look to adults for protection. How could he do it?" "It's awful," I agreed. "It's the worst." Erica nodded. She was the only other one who really knew how awful it was. She knew and liked Joey and Nate. And she'd seen their father in action. "My dad says there's a fund in Stoneybrook to help families who are in this kind of trouble. I'm going to send them all the money learned when I was sitting for the Nichollses." "What a great idea!" I said. "Will you give me their address? I'd like to send some too." Erica promised to bring it to school the next day.
    "I hope we never run into this problem again,” said Abby, "but if we do, is there anything we should do differently?" "I think we handled it really well," said Kristy. "But I think we should always tell an adult right away, as soon as we suspect something. We could have done that a little sooner." We all nodded. 'And if something serious happens, call somebody immediately — the way Erica called Claudia," said Stacey.
    "Right," agreed Mary Anne. "Don't try to handle it on your own." She looked terrified just thinking about it.
    "That's the real lesson here," I said. "I know I felt a whole lot better as soon as we told my mom. It was just too much for us to deal with by ourselves." Just then, I heard footsteps on the stairs. "Quick!" I said in a whisper. "Hide the candy!" Kristy shoved the M&M's underneath a notebook on my desk. Abby tossed the box of Triscuits to Mary Anne, who slid it under my pillow. Then there was a light knock on my door. "Claudia?" asked my mother. "It's me. May I come in?" Kristy jumped up to open the door. "Sure,” she said. "You're always welcome." Always — as long as I have time to hide the evidence!
    Mom sat down on the director's chair, and -Kristy settled in on the floor. "I just wanted to give you an update on what's happening with the Nichollses," she began. . "Did you talk to Mrs. Nicholls?" I asked. "How are the boys?" Mom smiled. "Nate and Joey are fine. And yes, I did talk to Mrs. Nicholls. She's feeling safe at her sister's house. She's still a little shaky, but I think she knows she did the right thing." It was no surprise to hear that Mrs. Nicholls felt shaky. I still did. "What else?" I asked.