“It wasn’t so bad,” Jessica said. She was blushing.
“No, there was that sweet woman who worked there. I can’t remember her name. But she started doing all the same reading as Jessica and then they would discuss it. You two had your own little book club. It was so nice.”
Jessica’s expression was pained, and all at once Dean understood that the sweet woman was Nicole. But it was clear that Mrs. Markham had no idea. Dean was glad she had no idea; he needed privacy to absorb this new glimpse of Nicole. He couldn’t really imagine it; he didn’t remember her as a reader, it was just something she did before bed. More than anything, he was embarrassed by the idea of his wife striking up a friendship with a sixteen-year-old girl. It wasn’t something a happy, busy adult would do.
“Whatever happened to her?” asked Mrs. Markham. “I don’t think I’ve seen her there for a couple months.”
“I don’t know,” Jessica said. She glanced at Dean apologetically—a look that gave a glimpse of the adult she would become.
NIGHT FELL QUICKLY as they drove back to the school, and Dean sped along the hilly roads, trying to return in time to pick up Robbie from his play practice. He kept trying to attach some meaning to Jessica’s connection to Nicole. If Jessica’s family hadn’t moved there . . . If Nicole hadn’t worked nearby . . . If he hadn’t started coaching cross-country . . . If, if, if . . . Then what? Then nothing. His wife would still be dead; he would still be lonely; Jessica would still be the same sensitive girl, gifted in all areas except the ones that could make her a great athlete.
When Dean pulled into the school, he found Robbie sitting outside with a bunch of the theater kids. Robbie was wearing some other kid’s hat, a kind of newsboy cap. His jean jacket was draped over his shoulders like a cape. He looked grown-up, confident, expressive—like the boy Dean had seen, briefly, onstage. Dean felt a profound sense of disconnect. He called to Robbie and watched as he removed the borrowed cap and wriggled his arms back into his jacket.
ON THURSDAY, THE girls had a dual meet, at home, which Megan won easily. The team won, too. It was their first win and it was an easy one, even a predictable one, but it wasn’t a win they could have pulled off at the beginning of the year. They were no longer the worst team in the county. The race ended on the track, and the football team stopped their practice to watch the finish. They whooped and hollered for Megan, who seemed slightly alarmed by the attention and only ran faster.
“I see you found yourself a ringer,” Garrett joked.
“Yeah, I guess you could say that,” Dean said, willing himself not to say something snide about the poached baseball player. “You ready for homecoming?”
“Don’t worry, we’ll win. I won’t spoil the dance. Are you going to be there?”
“Yeah, I’m chaperoning.”
“Me too—with Connie. I’ll look for you.”
With only two teams competing, the race was over quickly, and both teams headed to the gym to stretch. After the opposing team left, Dean gave the all-clear and the girls let loose, doing cartwheels on the basketball court. Above them, blue and white balloons were hanging from the rafters, already tied into place for tomorrow’s pep rally. Dean watched See-See execute a series of round-offs, throwing her arms back, Mary Lou Retton style, after each one. With her hair growing out, and with her small sturdy body, she actually resembled the gymnast a little bit. She’d done well in the race, coming in third overall and second for the team. Dean was glad she’d gotten the win. He felt, in a way, that the team wouldn’t exist without her, because she was the one who’d kept after Aileen and Lori over the summer—Jessica, too.
“Hey, See,” he called to her. “Come here a minute.”
See-See eyed him and came over, reluctantly.
“Girls, I want you to give a round of applause for your captain, See-See Coulter—”
“See-See Meyers,” she corrected.
“Oh, right, I’m sorry,” Dean said. “This girl is the one who led you to victory. She’s the one who kept this team together when you didn’t have a coach. And she’s the one you should thank next year when you start placing at the big meets.”
The girls clapped and whistled, but See-See shrugged it off. Dean sensed she was embarrassed, maybe even a little sad, so he called for a hell yeah as a way of keeping things light.
“You have tomorrow off,” Dean said. “And as you know, there’s no meet this weekend in advance of Regionals. But you need to run on Saturday and Sunday. So take it easy tomorrow night, okay? Don’t stay out too late.”
“We won’t!” they promised.
And Dean knew that, unlike the football players, they wouldn’t.
THE NEXT AFTERNOON one of the cheerleaders delivered a boutonniere for Dean to wear to the dance. It was a white carnation dipped in blue dye and tied with a blue ribbon that said Go Eagles in cursive script.
The phone rang and it was Laura. Her tone was cold and businesslike, but he couldn’t help feeling soft toward her. He tried to tell her that he’d just been thinking of her, but she cut him off.
“I’m calling about Robbie,” she said. “That’s all I’m going to discuss. I’m sure you can appreciate that.”
“Laura, I was sick last week—the boys, too. I was completely underwater—”
“I’m serious. I only want to talk about Robbie. He said some things that I find concerning, especially since he’s heading to the Outdoor School next week. Honestly, I’m not sure if he should go.”
“Why not?” There was something strange about her tone; it contained an emotion he couldn’t place.
“He’s very angry with you. He told me that you’ve forgotten about his mother and that you’re dating another woman.”
“That’s not true.” Dean realized what he’d heard in her voice: jealousy.
“You don’t have to lie to protect my feelings. Robbie told me who it is and it seems pretty likely. I mean, I get it, Karen Coulter is pretty, she’s nice, she’s convenient.”
“I’m not dating her. We’ve spent some time together, that’s it. How did Robbie even find out?”
“Because you live in a small town, Dean. Because your son hangs out with high school kids every day after school—high school kids who are friends with See-See. She probably told someone who told someone who told Robbie. I shouldn’t have to explain this to you.”
“How did See-See know?”
“Her mother probably told her! Or she figured it out. She’s seventeen years old, she’s not an idiot.”
“You’re right.” Dean was remembering the way See-See had backed away from his praise after the dual meet. Now that he thought about it, she had been a little bit distant all week.
“Whatever,” Laura said, sounding young. “The point is, Robbie’s upset and you need to address it. Preferably before he leaves. I know you don’t think it’s a big deal for him to be away from home for a week, but for a kid who’s been through what he’s been through, it’s going to be very dramatic to be without his family. So you need to reassure him. Talk about your wife with him. Be open about what’s going on with Karen.”
“Should I also be open about what’s going on with you?”
“Do what you want.”
She hung up without saying good-bye. Dean called back but she didn’t pick up, forcing him to leave a message with her secretary. He felt like he’d been kicked. What was he supposed to say to Robbie about Nicole? Your mother didn’t have the decency to off herself with pills. Your mother was a coward. Your mother was a secretive person. Your mother was impulsive, she was always impulsive, she married me on impulse, she had you on impulse, she killed herself on impulse. If she could change her mind, she would. I’m sure of it.
Except Dean wasn’t sure of it.
The bell rang for last period, the nasal sound jolting him. It was time for the pep rally. He went out to the gym’s main entrance to meet Bryan, who would be on his way over from the elementary school. The students were coming down the hallway in a flo
od, the majority of them wearing something blue or white. Dean had a strong feeling of déjà vu, not exactly like he’d lived this scene before, more like he was stuck in an endless loop of high school. He remembered a burned-out teacher telling him, They get younger and younger the older you get.
“Daddy!” Bryan called to him. “I didn’t know there was a party today!”
Dean led him toward the gym, where students were already filling up the bleachers. The cross-country girls, Dean noticed, were sitting together.
THE HOMECOMING DANCE was held in the cafeteria, where Dean and Laura had first met, and whether out of habit or accident, Laura was standing near the window where they used to chat. He was surprised to see her, since she worked at the middle school now, but she was standing with one of the younger female teachers at the high school, so maybe she had come out of friendship, to lend moral support. Both women were dressed in old-fashioned 1950s-style party dresses. Dean suspected they were wearing them ironically, but they looked pretty. Dean wanted to talk to her, but she stuck to her friend in a way that made him feel as if she was doing it on purpose, as a way of avoiding him. As an experiment, he moved toward her side of the room to see if she moved in the opposite direction. She did. All around him, students were engaging in similarly covert maneuvers.
He checked the boys’ bathroom for smokers and imbibers and, finding none, sought refuge in the faculty bathroom. There was someone else in one of the stalls, but he thought nothing of it until he was at the sink washing his hands. When he shut off the water, he heard a groan. His instinct was to leave immediately, not wanting to encounter a colleague in the wake of a gastrointestinal emergency, but there was another sound and all at once he knew there were two voices, two people.
“This is Coach Renner,” he said loudly. “I’m going to stand outside this bathroom for thirty seconds. If you do not exit within that time frame, I’m getting the vice principal.”
The couple left quickly, a boy and a girl. Dean knew them both from gym classes. He didn’t realize they were together and wouldn’t have pegged either of them as the type to sneak off for public sex. The faculty bathroom! Was that a known place? He had to tell someone, it was too funny. The obvious choice was Laura, but he couldn’t bring it up with her, it would seem like a come-on. It was a come-on, maybe. He missed her. He wished they had met in a different way. That he hadn’t known her when he was married. There was too much guilt attached to her. And yet it was that guilty feeling he craved.
The cafeteria was getting warm as more and more kids arrived. The girls were dressed sweetly or provocatively; there seemed to be nothing in between. Dean saw the cheerleader who had given him the boutonniere; she was in a short, sequined dress and her hair was in a French twist. She was overdone and looked about thirty-five. Her date was Larry Moats, a JV player. He looked like a used-car salesman in his shiny suit and conservative tie. Dean imagined them ten years down the road, married and fat with small children and money problems. His cynical thoughts disturbed him; they felt rank and sour.
The music changed to a saccharine ballad and couples began to slow-dance. Dean checked across the room for Laura but she was gone. After a moment, he found her. She was talking with the high school guidance counselor. She looked completely engaged, interested in whatever her colleague-in-psychology was saying. Dean wondered if she was happy, and if she’d gotten back together with Tim. Had she begged his forgiveness? Maybe she didn’t even have to beg. Maybe Tim had been in his own kind of trouble; maybe he’d asked for her to come back. Maybe this whole time, Laura’s mind was on Tim, and Tim’s mind was on Laura, and years from now, the story would be about how tumultuous things had been at the beginning. Dean would be the lonely widower Laura had befriended because she was a softie.
Dean began to walk the perimeter of the room, trying to be a good chaperone. At the edge of the dance floor he noticed See-See, dancing with a very tall boy Dean remembered vaguely from freshman PE a couple of years before. Travis something. He was not very athletic, as Dean recalled. He had to bend slightly to dance with See-See, who seemed especially petite in her off-the-shoulder party dress. Dean had never seen her in a dress before. She seemed so vulnerable, with her bare shoulders and back and her arms reaching up to embrace this long-stemmed boy. Dean had to leave. He went outside, to the parking lot, a zone that chaperones were theoretically supposed to police, but he didn’t bother walking the aisles of vehicles. Instead he went to his own car and drove home.
LATE THAT NIGHT, Dean was awakened by the sound of heavy rains and winds. Tree branches slapped against his windows. The next morning, his backyard was transformed. All the branches were bare and the yard was covered with leaves. He and the boys spent the weekend raking them into piles and stuffing them into bags. They spread some over their garden beds, and the rest they drove over to Joelle’s for mulching.
“We missed you at church,” Joelle said to Bryan and Robbie. “What are you up to this afternoon?”
“We have to help Robbie pack,” Bryan said. “He’s going to Outdoor School.”
“You got a cold week,” Joelle said. “Megan got lucky, she went in May.”
“Dad got me some new boots,” Robbie said. “I’ll be fine.”
“We’ll send you a care package,” Joelle said.
“He’s only gone for a week,” Dean said.
“He could still use some treats—Thursday is Halloween! I’ll mail it tomorrow, that way you’ll get it in time.”
Robbie shrugged, but Dean could see he was pleased. He remembered Laura’s worries about Outdoor School and wondered if she was right to be concerned. He’d been trying all weekend to get a few minutes alone with Robbie to talk with him about See-See’s mother, or at least to approach the subject indirectly. But Bryan kept interrupting, or else Dean would begin the conversation in too banal a way and Robbie’s attention would drift and he would ask to be excused.
On Monday morning, with everything carefully packed, Dean had the idea to put Bryan on the bus and drive Robbie to school by himself. They would talk in the car. With the familiar road ahead it would be easy to assure his son that they were still a family, and that he thought often of his mother. That none of the rumors he’d heard were true.
But when they got into the car, Robbie turned on the radio and started to sing along. Then, when Dean brought up the subject of play practice, thinking this would be an easy way to segue into a discussion of any overheard gossip, Robbie began to talk about the play, about how they were in tech rehearsals for the week, and how, when he got back, it would be time for dress rehearsals. He was excited to see himself in all the various costumes: munchkin, poppy flower, flying monkey. He talked so animatedly that Dean couldn’t bring himself to interrupt him. It even crossed Dean’s mind that Laura might be wrong about Robbie, and that perhaps she was the one who was angry with him and offended by rumors.
When they arrived at school, Dean kissed him good-bye on both cheeks (Robbie allowed this!), and then he watched as he boarded the charter bus hired for the occasion. There were dozens of parents on the curb, some of them crying. Dean thought of Nicole’s sadness at the beginning of every school year when the kids would be returned to their schoolyard kingdoms. Then he drove over to the high school to begin his day.
Part Three
Chapter 14
Robbie checked his compass, which hung from a lanyard around his neck. All week long, he’d been learning about orienteering. He’d learned about tribes in South America where kids didn’t have words for left and right. Instead they learned north, south, east, and west. During that lesson, Robbie raised his hand to ask how people knew their left hand from their right hand and everyone laughed and the teacher thought he was being a smart aleck. But he honestly wanted to know what they said. He was fascinated by the idea that certain words could exist in one language but not in another. He was fascinated by lots of things, but he was constantly being told that he was “off topic” or that he “had tone.” No one had ever
told him these things in elementary school. But now, in middle school, he was getting a reputation for being mouthy and difficult. It had started with his teachers, and now it was drifting down to his friends. He felt strongly that nothing within him had changed. The only thing that was different was that his mother had killed herself. But he wasn’t allowed to talk about that; he wasn’t even allowed to repeat things his mother used to say, because when he did, people thought he was an even bigger weirdo. It was like he was supposed to pretend that he’d never had a mother at all. Even his father went along with this new reality.
It had been nice to be away from home for a week. Robbie could admit that, here, in the quiet, bare woods. The fallen, dried leaves made shushing sounds as he walked. They faded more and more each day, from red and gold to auburn and yellow to brown and brown. Above, the sky was overcast, matching the pale gray bark of the trees. Monochrome was a word that Robbie had recently learned, and which he liked. He made up his own word from it: moonchrome. This was the color that moonlight gave to trees and leaves and grass and houses.
He and his mother used to make up words: iceslip, ponins, delicatessies, lemonstone, snarfle. His mother told him he had been slow to talk, but once he’d started talking, it was in fluent sentences. She used to call him Robbie-robin-red-breast. He had no idea why, it was just something she said.
He and his mother had their own language, and now he was the only remaining speaker.
Robbie could no longer hear the voices of other kids nearby. He had deliberately gone in the opposite direction of where he knew he should go, leaving his buddy group behind. They were supposed to find their way back to the school by themselves. It was the final orienteering challenge before they went home tomorrow. But Robbie didn’t want to go home.
His original plan had been to sneak off the bus going home. As long as his name got checked off during attendance, he would be in the clear. He was pretty sure he could get past the bus monitor; he could say that he had to use the bathroom and never come back. His friends wouldn’t notice—or care—that he was gone.
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