by Maisy Morgan
“I don’t know,” Preston said. “I think I’m going to work on calling the parents of some of the other kids who were at the party. See if they are willing to let me come and interview their kids—maybe one of them saw something useful. I could probably confirm with some of the kids whether or not Bob and Darren were by the pool like they said.”
“Good idea,” Mary said. “I’ll take the shredded papers home with me tonight and start working on piecing them together. There was a lot of them, so it might take me a while.”
“I appreciate that,” Preston said. “I’ll probably be working late tonight, but if you’re not finished by tomorrow, I’ll come over after work and we can finish it up.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Mary said, checking the time. “Oh, good timing. Tripp’s bus should be dropping him off soon.”
Mary bid farewell to Preston before heading into the shop. She checked in on Ella May, who filled her in on customers and anything she had done in Mary’s absence. Mary was quite satisfied to find the place completely spotless, and the woman had even taken time to pour Sweet Feet some cat food and refill his water bowl. Mary sent Ella May home for the day, knowing that she and Tripp would be able to handle closing that evening just fine on their own. She closed her shop up earlier on weekdays, not wanting Tripp to have to be stuck with her at the shop all week, but she stayed open later on Saturdays. So far, that system was working out pretty well.
Soon after Ella May headed out, Tripp was walking through the door with his backpack in tow. Though it was only his second week of school, they now had a system down pat. He sat himself down at one of the pink tables and pulled out his homework. “How was school?” Mary asked, refilling one of the display cases.
“Pretty good,” Tripp said. “Everyone was talking about what happened to Bradley’s dad. Probably a good thing he was out of school today.”
“Yes, I’m sure,” Mary said. “I saw him today—went with his mom to drop off some paperwork at his parents’ office.”
Tripp flipped through a notebook. “We got our first assignment in our drama class. We’re going to be practicing monologues… I should let Hannah know she’s got to pick out a monologue…”
“Let her know?” Mary questioned.
“Yeah, she wasn’t at school today,” Tripp said casually, closing up his notebook and opening up his math workbook.
This alarmed Mary slightly. Cindy and Hannah had missed church the day before as well. Deciding she wasn’t going to let another day go by without checking in on them, she elected to pack up a dessert to take to them before closing up shop that evening. She drove Tripp home, dropping him off and not allowing him to tag along since he hadn’t finished his homework at the shop—which annoyed him. “Shouldn’t have spent forty-five minutes playing on your phone,” Mary taunted slightly after sending him inside.
She drove down the road towards Cindy’s home, and she was glad to see that they were there. She took the small cake she had prepared for them at the shop and rang the doorbell. Cindy answered, and the woman beamed to see her. “Mary!” Cindy said, stepping aside and inviting her in. “Please tell me that dessert box you’re holding is for us?”
“But of course,” Mary said, entering into the home.
“Hey, Mrs. Hopkins!” a friendly voice called from the kitchen, and she could see Hannah seated in her chair by the kitchen table, nibbling on some fried chicken. “Ooh, what do you have there?”
“Dinner first, young lady,” Cindy said, and Hannah shrugged.
“I’ve got to say, I’m glad you two are looking all right. Missed you on Sunday, and Tripp told me Hannah wasn’t at school today,” Mary said. “Thought maybe someone was sick.”
Hannah frowned. “Maybe. We’re not sure…”
Mary raised a brow. “Everything okay?”
Cindy looked at Hannah as though asking the girl permission, and Hannah gave an approving nod. “We’ve been at a few doctor’s appointments,” Cindy said. “Hannah’s been having a bit of pain in her hips… she didn’t use to be able to feel anything there, and all of a sudden, she’s been having some serious discomforts.”
Mary felt an immediate wave of concern. “Well, what does that mean? Is it a good thing she’s feeling something in her hips, or is it something to be concerned about since it’s painful?”
“We’re not sure,” Cindy said. “We’re waiting on some lab results. Hannah’s going back to school tomorrow, though. We should hear something by next week.”
“Please keep me in the loop.” Mary made them promise as much. They talked a bit more about Hannah’s doctor's appointments, and Mary told Hannah about what Tripp had mentioned about them having to memorize monologues for their drama class soon.
Eventually, she felt she had overstayed her welcome a bit and she left the ladies to enjoy the cake she had brought by before heading back home. She entered the house where she spied Tripp passed out on the couch, surrounded by textbooks on the floor. She smirked. She was just about to wake him up when she spotted his cellphone sitting on the end table by the couch. Don’t, she told herself, but she failed to fight off the temptation.
She picked up the phone, and sure enough, he had spent most of the evening texting Kara instead of doing his homework. She scrolled a bit, satisfied to see that the conversations they had were fairly innocent—talking about school, homework, sports—whatever interested them. But then, she came across a picture of Kara. It wasn’t just a sweet picture of her smiling; it was a bit vulgar. She had posed herself in front of a mirror, biting her bottom lip, in nothing but a t-shirt and a pair of bright pink underwear. Mary stared at it, feeling more than just a hint of agitation. And that wasn’t the only one. Another picture was almost entirely of her cleavage and very little of her face. She was at least somewhat clothed in all the pictures she had sent Tripp, but it was not the sort of thing she would have liked to see on her grandson’s cellphone.
She wanted to smack him on his forehead right then and there to wake him up and ground him. To delete the photos. To let him know what she had just seen. But she paused. She sat the phone back down where she had found it and stared down at him, debating on how to handle the situation. She decided she needed a moment to cool off before addressing what she had seen so that she could think more clearly.
Instead of confronting him just yet, she woke him up and asked him if he was finished with his homework. He yawned and rubbed his eyes, saying he had just finished it all before he had fallen asleep. She sent him up to his room, telling him she felt like he needed a bit of extra sleep that evening, and he agreed and disappeared, not failing to snatch up his phone before telling her goodnight.
She spent the next twenty minutes pacing in the kitchen, thinking about the inappropriate photos that Kara had been sending Tripp. She thought about Lilly, mostly. There had been signs of inappropriate behavior, and Mary felt that she hadn’t acted in a way that Lilly responded well to. She had overreacted, and Mary felt she had pushed her daughter away. All of a sudden, her thirteen-year-old daughter had come home one day crying after realizing she had gotten pregnant. Mary worried if she was being paranoid now, though, because of Lilly.
Mary called Preston. He answered perkily as ever, but she most certainly was not. “What’s wrong?” he asked less than ten seconds into their greetings.
“It’s Tripp…” Mary said at last. “I found… I shouldn’t have looked, I guess. I looked at Tripp’s phone. I’ve just had this bad feeling about these new friends of his. Kara has been sending him some pictures of herself. They’re not too bad, I suppose, but they’re still inappropriate. In one of them she was just wearing a t-shirt and underwear, and I just… I don’t know if I should say anything to him or not. He’s already pushing back, you know? Every time I say something to him about anything, he gets very short with me, and it’s not like I can blame him. He hardly knows me, Preston.”
“How long are you going to use that as an excuse, Mary?” Preston said after a long pause. “Yo
u are the adult figure in his life. Just you. You’re the one responsible for him. Now, I’m not saying that means you’ve got to say something to him about it. It’s probably fairly innocent fun right now—it’s his first girlfriend and all. But I wouldn’t use the fact that you haven’t been around his whole life as the reason for you not to if you think you should.”
Mary thought about this for a moment. “I think you’re right. I’ve got to start acting like the authority figure, at least a little bit. It’s just that I feel like I failed the first time around. My daughter is a recovering drug addict who got knocked up at thirteen and hasn’t seen her own kid since he was two. I’m worried about making all the same mistakes all over again. I feel like Tripp is just waiting for me to do something, to push him too far—for him to throw that back in my face.”
“Maybe he will,” Preston said. “But it won’t be because you’re being a bad parent. It’ll be because he’s being a teenaged brat who thinks he can put you in your place. Because that’s the way teenagers are. He knows your weak spot. Kids exploit that sort of thing when they perceive something as unfair. Want to know honestly what I think you should do?”
“Yes, please.”
“Ask yourself how you think his dad would have wanted you to handle it,” Preston said.
Mary smiled slightly. “That’s actually pretty good advice. He’s the one who… I guess whose opinion would have actually mattered. The parent who stuck around…”
“He did a good job with that kid, Mary,” Preston said. “Tripp is a good kid. I really, truly believe that. You just simmer on that for a bit and see what you come up with.”
“I will,” Mary said. “Thanks. So, any news on your end about Ken?”
“I spoke with a couple of kids this evening,” Preston said. “And Bob and Darren were not by the pool when it happened.”
“So, they made that story up,” Mary said. “So, did the wives lie too, or were Bob and Darren mistaken?”
“Something is definitely up with these three families,” Preston said. “I feel like everybody is lying to us about something. A part of me wonders if they all know what happened and are just keeping their mouths shut.”
“That’s pretty messed up if so,” Mary said. “Ken was part of their little family of friends—you’d think they’d want to uncover what really happened.”
“You would think,” Preston said. “We’ve just got to figure out why all of his friends are keeping quiet about it. They’re covering it up—and they’re doing it together. I just have a strong feeling about it.”
Chapter Fifteen
Tripp had been running a bit late to school that morning, so he hadn’t had much time to hang out in the cafeteria before the first bell of the day had rung. He hurried down the hall towards his locker when, up ahead, he spotted Hannah pulling books from her locker and setting them in her lap. He beamed and hurried towards her. “Hannah,” he said brightly as she rolled back, closing her locker and allowing him a moment to open up his locker above hers. “Glad you’re back! Missed you at church on Sunday, and you weren’t here yesterday either. I was starting to worry something was up.”
“I’m fine,” she said with a casual handwave just as Draco, arms full of books, came waddling by, stopping and smiling at them both.
“Sweet, gang’s back together,” Draco joked.
Tripp laughed. “Yeah, for real. I was just asking her where she’s been.”
“Sorry, been at the doctor,” she said.
“Everything okay?” Tripp asked, a little annoyed he hadn’t been told this already. His grandmother had been over at Hannah’s home the evening before, after all.
“Yeah, everything’s fine,” she said. “So, I saw them posting up tryout information for some fall sports. Thinking about joining track.” She spun her wheelchair around in a circle, and both boys laughed slightly. “It was a joke; it’s okay,” she said. This was something Tripp really admired about Hannah. She loved making people uncomfortable by laughing at her useless limbs.
“I don’t know—you could probably roll circles around the other runners,” Tripp said, and Hannah smirked up at him from her chair. She seemed just about ready to say something when an arm abruptly went around his shoulder. He glanced to see who had a hold of him, and he smiled to see Kara standing there.
Behind Kara was most of their little gang—Bradley and Stacey along with Becky, who seemed always to follow Stacey so closely, she was like a growth. “Whatcha all laughing about over here?” Kara asked with an honest smile.
“Just making a joke about me joining track,” Hannah said.
Kara seemed bothered by this. “Who made that joke? That’s not funny.”
Hannah waved her hands a bit frantically, grinning. “Oh, no, it wasn’t them. I made the joke. It’s fine.”
“Oh!” Kara said, letting go of Tripp and looking a little embarrassed. “Sorry… I thought you meant someone was making fun… I’m sorry…”
Hannah smiled at Kara. “It’s fine, really. I’m not particularly sensitive about it. Plus, these are my boys right here—I’m pretty sure if they made a joke about it, I’d laugh because it’s them. Not that they ever have.”
Draco, who was looking past Stacey towards Becky, had a big grin on his face. “Hey, Becky,” he said softly. “Listen, I was wondering if you wanted to—”
“No,” she said flatly.
No one seemed surprised by this abrupt rejection, with the exception of Hannah, who hadn’t gotten to know Tripp’s new group of friends just yet. Even Draco didn’t seem too taken back by it. Hannah glared at the girl. “Wow—pretty sure he was just going to offer to tutor you in history. I heard you kind of suck at it.”
Becky’s jaw hung open for a moment. “Screw you,” she said and finally trotted off.
Stacey laughed. “She probably needed to be put in her place a little,” she admitted, watching her younger sister prance off. Stacey then gave Hannah a stern look. “But that is my little sister. Don’t be so aggressive.”
Hannah rolled her eyes. “Come on, Tripp. Let’s just get to class. I don’t want to be late.”
Tripp, who was quite distracted by Kara, whose hands had found their way back around his neck, didn’t even respond to Hannah. He was grinning at Kara, already wrapped up in their own conversation.
“I’ll walk you to class,” Draco griped, and Tripp turned his head—realizing he had ignored Hannah again.
“I’m sorry, I’ll be right there,” Tripp said.
“It’s fine,” Hannah said, huffing slightly as she rolled herself off, Draco next to her shaking his head.
“Awfully sensitive, your friends,” Bradley said.
“Glad you’re back,” Tripp said to him.
Bradley shrugged. “Yeah, well, I had to come back eventually. Mom wanted me to stay home the rest of the week but I don’t know if I can hang around the house anymore. It’s gotten kind of depressing around there, and I’m not in the mood.”
Suddenly, the bell rang, and Tripp jumped. His class was halfway across the school, and he was going to be very late. “Aww, man,” he said, acting as though he was going to make a break for it.
“Forget it,” Bradley said. “We’re going to grab breakfast.”
Tripp looked at Bradley curiously. “You’re skipping class?”
“We’re coming back,” he said, already walking off. Stacey walked right next to him, chatting about where she wanted to go.
Kara started to walk in their direction as well, and as they were holding hands, she seemed to tug Tripp along. He knew he shouldn’t go with them, but it wasn’t like he had ever skipped class before. How much trouble could he really get in if he was caught? Besides, it was only English class, and he was caught up and doing well in that.
They snuck around the school hallways, eventually heading out a back exit near the gym and into the parking lot. They all loaded up into Bradley’s truck and they pulled out of the parking lot and onto the highway, driving about ten
minutes to a place that served chicken biscuits for breakfast. They went through the drive-through and parked, each of them opening up their biscuits and drinking sweet tea to go along with it.
Tripp was sitting in the back seat squished next to Kara, who had made sure to scooch as close to him as possible. The four of them laughed and talked about the stupid classes they were missing. “I probably need to be back before second period,” Stacey groaned. “I’ve got a test today, and I don’t want to have to make it up.”
“We’ll be back in plenty of time,” Bradley assured her as they were finishing up their biscuits.
“I’ll run inside and throw all the trash away,” Stacey said.
“I’ll go with you—I’ve got to go to the bathroom,” Kara said, and the two girls gathered up their straw wrappers and any empty drinks before scurrying through the parking lot and inside the fast food restaurant.
Tripp could see Bradley watching after Stacey with a look of fondness on his face. “How long have you two been dating?” Tripp asked.
“Since middle school,” Bradley said, his cheeks a little red at this. “I mean, I think I kind of struck gold, man. I liked her back then when she was pimple-faced, braces, and thick glasses. She was so cool to me, but she had a serious problem with her image.”
“Oh, so now you’re the guy who liked her when she was not so hot,” Tripp teased, and Bradley reached around the back and punched him. They both laughed though.
“Those two have been friends even longer,” Bradley said. “They’re cool girls. Stacey’s been there for me through a lot, you know?”
Tripp nodded, catching Bradley’s eye in the rearview mirror. He looked sad. “You good?” Tripp asked.
“What was your dad like, Tripp?” Bradley asked in response.
Tripp smiled, though it was an uncomfortable smile. “He was cool,” Tripp said. “Hard worker. Like, really hard. He was really young when he had me, but he stepped up when my mom wouldn’t.” Tripp exhaled heavily. “Man, believe me, I know how you feel. I’d give anything—anything—to have my dad back.”