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The Party

Page 23

by Robyn Harding


  Oh Jesus, please don’t let her dad be crying.

  Jeff coughed loudly into his fist, which seemed to compose him, thank God. “I was afraid of Lauren … afraid of what she might do, what she might say, to you, to your mom, to the lawyers… .”

  Hannah looked up at him and spoke in a weak voice. “Did you send her any pictures?”

  Her dad jumped up. “Absolutely not! God, Hannah, I would never!” He rushed toward her and reached for her hand. She let him take it. “Lauren is a sad and lonely and confused kid. Her parents are useless. She drinks and takes drugs. She lies and manipulates… . I’m sorry you ever got involved with her.”

  Hannah’s lower lip trembled. “Me, too.”

  Her dad wrapped her in a hug then, and the emotions she’d been holding in check broke free. She cried into his sports coat, blubbering like she was a little girl again, while he stroked her hair. There had been a marked lack of physical contact in her family of late, everyone too angry, too resentful, and too secretive to offer up comfort.

  “Does Mom know about all this?” she sniveled into her dad’s chest. Hannah believed everything her dad had told her, but Kim was a tougher customer.

  “She knows everything. No more secrets. We need to be honest now.”

  Now?

  Her dad released her, held her elbows. “Get dressed and come downstairs. Your mom and I have to tell you something.”

  HANNAH AND HER dad sat on the low sofa in the living room, drinking cups of coffee and waiting for Aidan to leave for school. Kim stood at the door with him. His backpack was on, his skateboard under his arm, but he was not going easily.

  “What’s going on? Why isn’t dad going to work?”

  “He is going,” her mom said calmly. “We just need to talk to Hannah for a few minutes.”

  “About what?”

  “Nothing that concerns you right now.”

  “Aren’t I a part of this family?”

  “Of course you are,” Kim responded. “And I promise you’ll know everything … when the time is right.”

  “You always treat me like a goddamn baby,” he grumbled, storming out the front door.

  “Language!”

  It was bad timing for Kim to bring out the swear jar, but her mom was right about one thing: Aidan was way too young to take in all the mess going on around them. Hannah, at sixteen, was infinitely more equipped to handle the harsh truth of their circumstances. Aidan’s life still revolved around soccer and skateboarding and whether he could convince Mom to let him go on Accutane for his zits. Lucky …

  Kim joined them on the sofa. She set her mug on a coaster and turned to Hannah. “Your dad and I have made a decision about Lisa Monroe’s lawsuit.”

  Jeff placed his coffee next to his wife’s. “We’re going to go to trial to prove that Ronni’s accident wasn’t our fault.”

  “Okay …”

  “That doesn’t mean we’re not upset about what happened to her at your party,” her mom added, looking suitably concerned. “We are. And we want to help Ronni with anything she might need.”

  “Of course,” Jeff said. “But we feel—and our lawyer feels—that what Lisa Monroe is asking for is not commensurate with Ronni’s injuries. It’s punitive.”

  “I’m in tenth grade,” Hannah sniped. “I didn’t go to law school.”

  Jeff and Kim exchanged an amused look before Jeff elucidated. “Lisa is really angry. She wants someone to blame, she wants to hurt us—that’s why she’s asking for so much money.”

  “We’ve offered her quite a lot of money already,” her mom contributed, “but she turned it down.”

  “She’s trying to ruin us, financially,” her dad said. “But we’re going to protect you and your brother. We’re going to protect our home and the life we’ve built.”

  “Okay …” Hannah nodded. It all sounded perfectly reasonable. But she knew from TV that lawsuits were never perfectly reasonable.

  Her dad cleared his throat. “Some things could come out at trial … things that could be embarrassing.”

  Hannah’s eyes narrowed. “Like what?”

  Her parents exchanged another look. There had been more “looks” exchanged between them in the past five minutes than there had been in the past six months.

  Kim said, “This stuff with Lauren could come out. She might take the stand. She might lie… .”

  If Lauren Ross stood up in court, in front of lawyers and judges and whoever else, and said that Jeff Sanders had sent her a dick pic, Hannah would spontaneously combust. She felt her chin wobble.

  “She won’t lie,” Jeff said quickly. “Her dad knows everything now. He’s on top of it. He won’t even let her take the stand.”

  Hannah wanted to believe him, but she still felt sick. Her parents didn’t know how cruel Lauren was; they didn’t know what she was capable of.

  Kim continued, “Lisa’s lawyers might mention that I drink a little wine most evenings.”

  A little wine? Most evenings?

  “And that I occasionally take sleeping pills.”

  Her dad said, “Lisa’s lawyers will attack us in any way they can. They’ll dig up stuff that’s not even relevant.”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know,” Jeff said, but Hannah got the feeling he did know. “Stuff like … I train a lot, that I’ve gotten a few speeding tickets, that we tried drugs in the past… .”

  “When we were in college,” Kim added quickly. “The lawyers will try to damage our character in any way they can.”

  “They want to make it seem like we’re irresponsible parents.”

  “But you’re not.” It was just the truth, but it made both her parents smile.

  Kim said, “Whatever they say in court, we will discuss as a family.”

  “We’re going to be open and honest with you and Aidan,” Jeff seconded.

  “Okay …” Hannah wanted to leave. She wanted to take a long, hot shower and wash away the filth of all this contention. “Anything else?”

  Another quick look flashed between the adults, then her dad smiled at her. “I think that’s it. We’re meeting with our lawyer this morning. We’ll know more after that.”

  Hannah got up and headed to the kitchen with her coffee cup, but she paused on the boundary between the two rooms. “When I go back to school next week … I want to hang out with Ronni.”

  Her mother’s lips tightened. Her dad looked at the floor and shifted in his seat. Kim spoke first. “That’s your decision, and we will respect that.”

  Jeff added, “But when Lisa finds out we’re going to trial, she might feel differently.”

  “We’ll see … ,” Hannah said, and continued on her way.

  AFTER HER SHOWER, Hannah felt better. She had vigorously scrubbed herself with a loofah, washing away Lauren’s lies, the secrets her parents had kept from her and from each other. Her mom and dad were gone when she went downstairs, off to their lawyer’s office to discuss their vindication. Hannah should practice the piano, or do math review, or even some squats and planks, but she wasn’t going to squander a couple of hours of freedom. She found her tablet and opened Netflix.

  She was halfway through an episode of Breaking Bad when the doorbell startled her out of Walter White’s seedy world. Her first thought was that she’d been caught slacking off, but her parents wouldn’t ring the bell. She hurried to the door and opened it to reveal Caitlin.

  “Hey …” Hannah was confused by the ginger girl’s presence.

  “Mr. Morrel gave me a homework packet for you,” Caitlin explained, thrusting a plastic folder of papers into Hannah’s hands. “I said I’d drop it off during my spare.”

  “Thanks.” Caitlin hovered on the doorstep. She had straightened her red hair, which made her look older, like she’d suddenly grown up while Hannah had been distracted by Lauren and Ronni and Noah. Caitlin didn’t seem in a hurry to leave, so Hannah asked, “Do you want to come in?”

  “Just for a second …”


  Hannah led the way into the quiet house. Caitlin had been there so many times, but she looked around her like it was her first visit. “Your parents home?” she asked.

  “Nope. Thank God.”

  They settled on the sofa. After Caitlin declined Hannah’s offer of tea or banana bread, she said, “Your mom must have been pretty mad that you got suspended.”

  “You know my mom … she’s pretty chill,” Hannah joked.

  Caitlin giggled. “So what the fuck happened with you and Lauren?”

  The homework delivery was just a pretext; Caitlin wanted the scoop. Hannah could hardly blame her. If it had been Caitlin who punched Lauren in the girls’ bathroom, Hannah would have been desperate for details.

  Hannah shrugged. “She was being a fucking bitch and … I just lost it.”

  “Wow,” Caitlin said, clearly impressed. “When we heard, we were just like ‘Go Hannah!’ I mean, we’re sorry you got suspended, but … Lauren is so fucking mean and horrible, but everyone is too scared of her to do anything about it… . Even Sarah Foster is afraid of her. But not you.”

  Hannah pressed her lips together and tried not to smile. She didn’t want to look smug, but she was pleased.

  Caitlin leaned forward. “So … what did she say to make you that mad?”

  Hannah was enjoying her friend’s adulation, but she couldn’t tell her what Lauren had said. There was no way she was going to articulate Lauren’s sick obsession with her dad. “Just more mean shit about Ronni and stuff … I don’t really remember.”

  Caitlin flopped back on the sofa. “I saw Ronni … Mrs. Pittwell asked me to take some homework to her. Somehow, I’ve become the homework delivery girl.”

  “How’s she doing?”

  “Not great … But she was pretty impressed that you beat up Lauren Ross.”

  “I didn’t beat her up,” Hannah said, smiling again. “Wait … why did you have to take homework to Ronni?”

  “She hasn’t been at school for a while … ever since what happened in the cafeteria.”

  “What happened?”

  Caitlin’s freckled face darkened. “Ronni went in to get some food and some kids started chanting ‘Cyclops’ at her.”

  “Jesus …”

  “I know, such assholes. Her eye’s not even that bad, once you get used to it.”

  That must have been the day Hannah had invited Ronni for lunch, the day Hannah had stood her up… . She felt sick.

  But Caitlin wasn’t finished. “Ronni’s trying to stay off social media—there’s so much mean shit about her on there—and she’s been getting some horrible texts.”

  “Who from?”

  “Unknown number … But we all know who’s behind it.”

  Hannah nodded. They did: Adam, Noah, Lauren …

  “Ronni just wants to leave Hillcrest, but her mom and the school are making her finish the year.” Caitlin brightened a little. “She’ll start over next year. At a better school.”

  “Unless my parents win this lawsuit,” Hannah muttered, almost to herself.

  “What?”

  “My mom and dad don’t want to pay Lisa so much money, because they didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “I guess …”

  Caitlin’s ambiguous response made Hannah feel surprisingly defensive. “They told us no drinking or drugs. They told us no boys, but we invited them anyway. This could have happened at anyone’s house … even at your house.”

  “Maybe, but …”

  “But what?”

  Caitlin opened her mouth to say something but stopped. “Nothing … I have to go.” She stood. “I’m supposed to be doing my online math.”

  Hannah followed her friend to the door, where they hovered for a moment. “Thanks for the homework,” Hannah said, her voice hoarse.

  “No problem.” Caitlin reached for the door handle, but Hannah’s hand shot out, touched her wrist. She couldn’t let Caitlin leave, not yet. There were things she needed to say … if only she could get the words past the emotion clogging her throat.

  “I know I was a shitty friend to you guys… .”

  “It’s okay,” Caitlin said, making another attempt to leave, but Hannah pressed her hand on the door.

  “I thought I was too cool for you when I was dating Noah and hanging out with Lauren, but I was just so fucking stupid… .”

  “Yeah …”

  “I wish I could go back in time, be like we were… . I’d never even look at Noah. I’d never even talk to Lauren fucking Ross.”

  “But you can’t.”

  “I know … but I hope, maybe, you guys can forgive me one day?” It sounded pleading, desperate, and pathetic. Caitlin should laugh in her face, tell her she got what she deserved. But Caitlin wasn’t mean like that.

  “I’ll talk to Marta,” she said. “We’re not mad … not anymore. You’ve been through enough.”

  Hannah felt like bursting into tears, but that would be beyond lame. How could she have dropped such a kind, understanding friend for a bitch like Lauren?

  “I don’t know if we can ever go back to how we were before,” Caitlin said, a little less kind and understanding. “And Marta’s mom says she can’t come over here anymore. She got into it with your mom or something … so that’s kind of awkward.”

  “We don’t have to be like we were,” Hannah said. “I get that. But maybe we could eat lunch sometimes? Maybe with Ronni, when she comes back?”

  Caitlin gave her a small smile that Hannah took as encouraging. “I’ll see what Marta thinks.” Hannah let her leave then. She stood on the porch and watched Caitlin’s straight red hair swing as she walked down the front steps.

  jeff

  SIXTY-EIGHT DAYS AFTER

  It was official: they were going to trial. Candace had been frank about their chances: sixty-forty in Jeff and Kim’s favor. She had also been frank about the ugliness, the toxicity they would be forced to endure. Paul Wilcox might look like a hairless panda bear, but he could be brutal in court. Jeff didn’t doubt it after the way that Teletubby had gone after him at the hearing for discovery. Candace also advised them that Paul had some ruthless investigators at his disposal. Still … Jeff felt a sense of calm as he cruised through mercifully light, late-morning traffic. There was no more dirty laundry to be aired: he’d told Candace about the bottle of sparkling wine he’d given the girls and she wasn’t overly concerned; she’d confirmed that Jeff’s LSD use was “fruit of the poisonous tree,” since Paul had learned of it through inappropriate channels; and Kim’s wine and sedative use was commonplace and didn’t constitute neglect. A trial might be hard, it might get nasty, but it was the right thing to do. Kim, seated in the passenger seat, felt the same way. At least he thought that was what she was twittering on about.

  “I actually feel relieved… . I mean, at least we’ll get the chance to stand up for ourselves.” Kim paused, clearly waiting for Jeff’s affirmation. He made an mm-hmm sound that served the purpose. “When Lisa realizes we mean business, I wouldn’t be surprised if she backs out. She’ll see that eight fifty was an incredibly generous offer. Of course, she’s not going to get that now.”

  He glanced over at his wife and saw her smile: smug, self-satisfied, almost triumphant… . Kim was confident they were going to win before they’d even started. Jeff was confident, too, but he was smart enough to know that no trial was a sure thing. Judges could be biased. Jury members could be swayed. Kim seemed positively jubilant, and it was way too soon.

  “It’s almost noon,” Kim said, glancing at her Cartier watch. Her hand reached over and touched his forearm. “Want to grab some lunch? It feels like we should mark the occasion in some way … maybe oysters at the little place by the water?”

  He was right. She was trying to turn their declaration of battle into a celebration. “I have to get back to work,” he lied. “I’ve got a meeting. I’ll drop you back at the house.”

  Kim didn’t speak, but her body language said it all. She sank into the leather seat, gett
ing smaller, shrinking into herself. He had hurt her and he felt bad … but not bad enough to drink wine, clink glasses, and eat oysters with her.

  “Let’s go out for dinner this weekend … take the kids for pasta,” he said cheerily. “We haven’t been to Flour and Water in forever.”

  Kim nodded and gave him a small smile. Hopefully, she was appeased.

  He let his wife out in the driveway and, without going inside, drove the 101 straight to the office. There was no pressing meeting, but he and Graham had talked about going for a run during their lunch break. Kim always resented his training, that’s why he’d made up the story about a meeting. His spouse viewed his exercise regimen as an excuse to be away from her, away from home, away from the kids. Kim didn’t understand that he needed it more now than ever. There was nothing like a run to get the endorphins going, increase serotonin production, lower stress … maybe there was a drug that could do the same job, but obviously that wasn’t an option.

  Graham was loitering outside his office when he arrived. “Where have you been? I thought we were going for a run.”

  “We are. Let me get changed.”

  There was a six-mile route that ran from the office, along the edge of the Stanford campus and back. Six miles was nothing to Jeff, but Graham struggled with it. In fact, they’d just reached the edge of the stunning Spanish-inspired Greenleaf Lab when Graham requested a break.

  “Sorry, mate. Too much beer last night.”

  “Too many hangovers at work can be career limiting.”

  “Says the guy who showed up at noon and then went for a run.” Graham stretched his calf. “Where were you this morning, anyway?”

  “Lawyer’s office. We’re going to trial.”

  Graham abruptly stopped stretching. “Are you fucking serious?”

  “Kim and I thought a lot about it, and we’ve decided to stand up for ourselves. We feel good about it.”

  Graham wiped his sweaty face with the end of his shirt. “You can’t do this.”

 

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