The Sandbar saga : Age Gap Romance

by Debra Kayn

  She straightened her shoulders in case Tru wanted to bash her for eating at the same table as Kendrid. It wasn't something she could control, but she wouldn't let Tru know that.

  "Do you guys want to sit with us in Study Hall after school?" Tru looked at her two friends, Gina and Marcy. "There are two extra seats by us."

  "Yeah." Kendrid looped her arm through Katie's. "We'll sit there."

  Katie never answered, thankful for Kendrid for including her. She walked up the stairs to her next class, biting her lip to keep from saying something wrong. Today was Wednesday, Dr. Conner wouldn't be coming after school to talk. She could join the others.

  Inside the classroom, she sat down and opened up her science book. Peeking at Tru, the other girl smiled at her.

  She smiled back.

  Chapter 8

  The rain beat down on Dr. Conner's car, blurring the outside world. Katie, allowed to take off her seatbelt because they were parked, scooted to the edge of the seat, and wrote her name in the condensation on the inside of the windshield.

  Her mother would've yelled at her for messing up the car window. Not that her mom was here or even phoned her at the school like the other parents did with their daughters who attended St. Mary's.

  Dr. Conner rolled down his side window an inch and turned up the defrost. She rested her chin on the dash, watching the letters disappear as they dried.

  They couldn't go on a walk because of the weather, and she refused to take him into the school office to have their meeting. She wanted to keep him to herself. He was the best thing from home, and she wouldn't want to share him with the other girls at St. Mary's.

  "It's supposed to rain all week. I'll have to find somewhere we can go on Friday to talk." Dr. Conner sopped up the splashes making their way into the car on his door and then put his wet handkerchief on the floor. "Unless you'd like to stand out in the rain. For how wet we're getting, we might as well go out and enjoy it."

  She rolled her eyes. Sometimes Dr. Conner was funny, but most of the time, he was serious.

  "You're not going to drive over the Megler Bridge when you go home, are you?" She turned her head away and watched the raindrops roll down the glass.

  "I promised you I wouldn't."

  "That doesn't mean anything," she mumbled.

  "It does to me. I keep my word."

  "Adults don't."

  "Do you want to explain what that means?" He touched her shoulder. "Who has lied to you?"

  "Everyone." She threw herself back in the seat and sighed. "All adults lie."

  "Your mom?"

  She turned and gawked at him. "You're kidding, right? She doesn't talk to me enough to lie."

  Her mother hadn't called, visited, or sent a letter since she'd moved into St. Mary's. She was glad because she was never going to forgive her for sending her away.

  "What about your father? When he was alive, did he ever lie to you?"

  She crossed her arms. "I don't want to talk about him."

  "Does it hurt when I mention your dad?"

  "He's dead." She gritted her teeth. "You're mean."

  "You were young when you lost him."

  "I didn't lose him. He went out on the sandbar, and the tide came in, and he drowned." She blinked hard. "I know where he is."

  "Where?"

  "Where dead people go."

  "Where's that?"

  Sometimes, Dr. Conner acted like he was dumb. He was old and had gone to college. She hated it when he pretended like he couldn't answer the questions he asked.

  "Do you miss him?" asked Dr. Conner.

  She pushed the buttons to make the window move, but he had the child lock on. If she could, she'd get out of the car and run back to the school. She looked at the area outside the window. None of the buildings seemed familiar. He must've driven farther away from the school than she'd realized.

  "Katie? Do you miss your dad?" he repeated.

  Everything blurred outside. She rubbed her hand on the window, trying to clear the rain away, but the harder she scrubbed, the worse it became until she couldn't see anything but gray.

  Only then, she realized it was her tears blurring her vision.

  "Sometimes, it's good to talk about those you miss," said Dr. Conner.

  "Shut up," she mumbled.

  "You can keep the memories of your dad alive if you talk about him."

  He wasn't alive. He was dead.

  Her chest quaked. Her dad died, and she was alone.

  A foreign wail hurt her ears. She covered her head with her arms.

  In the distance, Dr. Conner called her name. She opened her mouth to tell him she was here, and a scream scratched her throat. Frantic to see him, she swiveled on the seat.

  Dr. Conner lowered her arms and gazed at her. "Let out the pain, Katie. It's okay."

  Her muscles tightened. Her body hurt. Her eyes burned.

  Throwing herself at Dr. Conner, she crawled up in his lap and buried her head against his chest. She was all alone. Nobody loved her anymore.

  He wrapped his arms around her tightly, holding her body still. Squeezing her eyes closed, she rubbed her cheek against the hair at the base of Dr. Conner's neck, remembering her father had hair on his chest, too.

  Her dad used to hold her. He used to ask questions and say her name and ask about her day and take her in the car and he wore suits and his shoes thunked against the floor when he walked and he gave her candy and drove her to school and let her stay up past her bedtime and—

  "Katie, what was your father's name?" He pulled her away from him and set her on his lap. "Do you know his name?"

  "M-Michael Meihoff." She hiccupped.

  "Did he play golf?"

  She shook her head. "He smoked cigars."

  "He did?" Dr. Conner continued to hold her arms to her sides. "Can you remember what they smelled like?"

  She nodded. The smoke made this office stink.

  "Mom always got mad because it made the house smell." She picked at the button on his shirt with her fingers. "Dad never listened to her. Sometimes, he'd go outside when it was sunny. I would sit with him. One time, he let me cut off the end of a cigar. The scissors are weird. Not like normal scissors."

  "Did your dad let you do other fun things with him?"

  "He took me to piano lessons." Her head pounded, and she crawled off Dr. Conner's lap.

  Rubbing her eyes, she inhaled deeper. Her cheeks felt tight.

  "Can you play the piano?" He reached across the car and opened the glove box, taking out a white napkin. "You can dry your face."

  She scrubbed at her cheeks. "I can play Jingle Bells, Happy Birthday, and Fur...Fur something."

  "Fur Elise?"

  She looked at him. "Do you know that song?"

  "I do. I like it."

  "So did my dad. He always asked me to play it." She bunched the napkin in her hand. "I don't remember how, though."

  "You don't play anymore? They don't have a band class at your school?"

  "Yeah, but I'm not in that class." She shook her head. "I haven't played since Miss Cynthia died."

  "That's right, your dad and Miss Cynthia both died." Dr. Conner hummed under his breath. "I liked hearing about what you used to do with your dad. Anytime you want to talk about him, you can share your stories with me."

  "Mom doesn't want me to talk about him."

  "Your mom isn't here, and you and I can talk about whatever you want," he said.

  She studied him. "I don't want to talk about him anymore."

  "That's fine, too." Dr. Conner grabbed his briefcase from the backseat and opened the top. "I do need your help, though. I was trying to figure out something on my own, and can't make up my mind. Maybe you can help me."

  "To do what?" She yawned.

  "I'm going to paint my house." The corners of his mouth tightened, and he pulled out two papers. "Which color do you like?"

  She looked at them both and held up the gray one.

  He took it from her and studi
ed the paper, making a silly face. "You're sure?"

  "I don't like brown." She laughed, feeling better after helping him.

  "Okay, then. Gray it is." He checked his phone. "And, now that we've helped each other, I better get you back to school."

  She groaned. "I wish I could stay with you all the time."

  "You've only been at the school for six months. It'll grow on you if you give it a chance. Your teachers have mentioned you've already caught up with the other kids, and your grades are good." He pointed at her. "Put your seatbelt on."

  She buckled up. "Can you go slow and take the long way back?"

  His mouth softened. "I can do that. For you."

  She settled against the seat and yawned again. Rubbing her eyes, she looked at him. "The rain is making me tired."

  "The rain has that effect on people."

  She watched out the window as he drove her back to school. As he ran her up to the front door to get out of the rain, she stopped before he walked her inside.

  "Remember, don't go over the bridge." She watched him to make sure he agreed.

  Then, she ran inside and counted the hours until Friday when she could see Dr. Conner again.

  Chapter 9

  Katie's door opened, and Kendrid stuck her head into the dorm room. "You have a package in the office."

  "I do?" She stood from the desk, putting down her pencil. "From who?"

  Mail came every day, but after the first eight months of being at St. Mary's, she'd stopped going downstairs to see if anyone sent her a letter or care package. Her hope that her mother would remember her birthday or care enough about her died within the first month of attendance without a word from her.

  "Ms. Scott wouldn't say. Just told me to come and get you." Kendrid stepped out into the hallway and fell into step with her as she made her way down to the office. "If you get any cookies, I'll trade you two brand new notebooks and a friendship bracelet."

  "No way." She nudged Kendrid with her elbow. "I promised to stop you when you tried to smuggle cookies into your room."

  The school had put a ban on cookies being sold in the cafeteria at lunchtime because girls were sneaking them to their room. There was an ant invasion in two of the rooms, including Kendrid's, and the exterminators had to come and spray the area, forcing everyone to bed down in the gym for two days.

  At the door of the office, Kendrid stopped. Katie frowned. "Aren't you going in with me?"

  "The less I see of Ms. Scott, the better." Kendrid leaned against the wall and curled her lip. "Watch out for her eyes. They see everything."

  She shook her head at Kendrid's drama and opened the door. Because Kendrid was assigned as her buddy person while at school, she'd learned fast that there was a small group of girls attending St. Mary's who enrolled because they were in trouble with the law. The word reform was thrown around a lot, especially when someone got in trouble.

  Since she had never been arrested for shoplifting, breaking curfew, or getting into fights, she could only blame her home life for putting her here. That came down to her mom being the one responsible for sending her away. Not her old school, Langly Elementary, or Dr. Conner.

  "How can I help you, Katie?" Mrs. Thompson, the secretary, gave her full attention to her.

  "Kendrid said there's a package for me?"

  "Yes." Mrs. Thompson stood and motioned for her to follow. "It's in Ms. Scott's office. I can help you find it."

  The secretary retrieved a large box and handed it to Katie. It was heavier than she'd imagined, and she struggled to hold on to it.

  "Got it?" Ms. Scott took her hands off the package. "I'll get the door for you."

  Unable to see in front of her, she carried it forward and out into the hallway. Kendrid grabbed onto the box, seeing her struggle. She shifted her hands and sidestepped up the stairs, carrying the delivery.

  "I'm totally jelly." Kendrid bugged her eyes. "What do you think it is?"

  "I don't know." Her stomach fluttered.

  What if the box had been delivered to the wrong address? What if she opened it and found out the contents belonged to one of the other girls at St. Mary's and not her?

  The only possible person who could send anything to her would be her mother. But why would she when she'd sent her away without a goodbye and then silence all those months?

  "Here, you take it. I'll get your door." Kendrid moved in front of her and went into the room.

  Hit with the need to be alone while she opened the box, she avoided Kendrid's gaze. If the package was from her mother, she wanted to keep the moment to herself. Kendrid, while her closest friend, liked to overshare everything, and Katie was a private person.

  She put the box on the bed and read the top label. It had her name. The address was unfamiliar to her. She had no idea what the street address was at St. Mary's.

  "What are you waiting for? Open it." Kendrid patted the box.

  "I will...later." She plopped down on the bed. "I need to read three chapters of that book for Mrs. Larson's class first and don't want to get distracted."

  "You're kidding?" Kendrid pushed the box closer to Katie. "Come on. Open it now, so I can see what you got."

  She shook her head. The more she thought about it, the more determined she became.

  "I have to read," she said.

  "Fine. Fine." Kendrid waved her arms and walked to the door. "If it's good stuff, though, come and get me. I want first dibs on cookies, ants or no ants, I need them."

  The door shut. She stared at the box, afraid to open it and be disappointed. It was the first sign that her mother even remembered sending her away.

  She latched on to the hope that she wasn't forgotten and got up from the bed to find the scissors in her desk drawer. Her heart raced. She had to pee, but once she was prepared to open the box, she couldn't stop herself from seeing what was inside.

  Tearing the cardboard flap free, she ripped open the top as if it was Christmas morning, and she was three years old.

  On top of numerous sacks, a piece of paper caught her attention. She picked up the note and swallowed, recognizing the handwriting.

  Katie —

  Here are some things you might find useful.

  See you on Friday,

  Dr. C

  Dr. Conner? Her disappointment that it wasn't her mother went away with happiness that he'd buy her more things.

  She dropped the note and opened the first bag. There were three journals inside, each one new and blank on the inside. The next bag contained shampoo, conditioner, detangler, and a couple bottles; she had no idea what they would do for her hair. She liked that surprise. The school only gave out cheap shampoo to each room. Having a better brand and being able to brush her hair without struggling was helpful.

  She found sweatpants and sweatshirts with the St. Mary's emblem on the thigh. No longer would she have to wear the ugly shorts they gave her in P.E. class.

  Opening another sack, she found bras—sports bras, lace bras, and soft bras. Her face warmed, and a tingling warmth zipped through her lower stomach. Had Dr. Conner bought them?

  She couldn't imagine him going to the store and asking for bras that would fit a thirteen-year-old girl. Holding the soft one against her chest, she looked down. Besides wearing her mother's bra that one time so long ago, she hadn't had one of her own to wear, and she needed one. Badly.

  She tugged off her shirt and used the scissors to cut the tags off the bra. Putting it on, she wiggled the straps, figuring out how to tighten them. Walking over to the mirror above the desk, she gazed up, surprised the bra fit perfectly. Not too big, not too small.

  After she admired herself with her shirt on, too, she picked up the last sack. Inside were feminine pads and tampons. She blew out her breath in relief. During her second week at school, she'd started her period. While she knew why and what to do, she was stuck with thick pads from the office. Not to mention the embarrassment of having to tell Ms. Scott she'd started bleeding.

  Overwhelmed w
ith gratitude for Dr. Conner, knowing she needed the things in the box, she gathered all the bags to throw away when she noticed one more sack at the bottom. Dropping everything, she reached inside and pulled out a box covered in gift wrap with a card attached.

  She sat down on the bed and ripped open the envelope.

  Happy 13th Birthday.

  Every teenager needs their own cell phone. It's charged and ready for you to use.

  Dr. C

  Everything else forgotten, she tore off the wrapping paper and pulled the box apart. Holding the phone in her hand, she turned it over, looking for the ON button. A tinkling sound filled the room, and the screen came to life.

  She flung herself back on the bed, kicking her feet in the air in excitement. Her own phone!

  All the girls at the school had them. They sent texts to each other and could call their parents whenever they wanted, even between classes.

  She rolled around to her front and looked through the phone. There was a text waiting for her. Tapping the icon, she could see one from Race.

  That was Dr. Conner's first name.

  She drew in her bottom lip and bit down. Finding the reply button, she noticed the option to call instead of text. Tomorrow was Friday. Would he not come because he sent the gifts instead?

  She pushed the button and held the phone to her ear.

  Before she could think of what to say, Dr. Conner said, "Katie?"

  "Hi."

  "I see you've opened your present. How do you like it?"

  "I love it. Thank you." She smiled into the empty room. "I never thought I'd have a phone of my own."

  "I imagine you'll be texting and doing whatever it is young girls do when they have their nose stuck to their cell phones in no time." He chuckled. "I might even have to tell you to leave it in your dorm when we have our appointments, or you'll never talk to me."

  She ducked her chin, even though he couldn't see her. "I'll talk to you."

  "You better make that a promise and prove it tomorrow when I come up and see you."

  "You're still coming?" She bounced on the bed. "I mean, I wasn't sure after seeing all the presents you sent. I thought...I wasn't...I hoped you would still come."