by Kelly Utt
Dammit. What is he doing here?
Bea tried not to react.
“Hi, Mrs. Hughes,” the lady said as she stood up and reached out to shake Bea’s hand. “I’m Jenny Maguire, the principal here. Vice Principal Cho and I appreciate you and your husband coming in.”
Maybe they don’t know anything is wrong between us.
“Have a seat,” Michael prompted.
Bea hadn’t expected to see John. He looked haggard. He was dressed in a business suit, like usual, so had apparently been at the office this morning. His appearance was rough around the edges though. His tie was loosened just a little too much and his shoelaces were knotted haphazardly. Stress was taking a toll on him. Bea wondered what the town council’s reaction to last night's meltdown had been. Surely, his colleagues knew about it. He stared straight ahead without acknowledging his wife, so Bea didn’t attempt to make eye contact. Instead, she focused her attention on Jenny and Michael, eager to hear what they had to say.
“What’s happened?” John asked. Bea could tell by his forceful tone that he would take over, like usual. “You said it was important.”
Bea willed herself to speak. “Yes, let’s get right down to it.”
Michael looked at Jenny, deferring to her. He raised his chin as he stood behind her like a sentry.
“Alright,” Jenny began. “I appreciate you both coming in. I understand this is a stressful time for your family.”
“Oh?” Bea said. Even though she knew exactly what Jenny was referring to, she didn’t want to admit it right off the bat.
“We know about last night,” Jenny said. “And the kids do, too. It’s all over the Internet. Today, Max experienced some blowback.”
“Look,” John said without hesitating. “I take full responsibility for my behavior.” Bea recognized the political-speak. John was a master at schmoozing. Leave it to him to somehow talk his way out of this. “In fact,” he continued. “I’m holding a press conference at Town Hall this evening during which I will publicly apologize. My wife will be there by my side and together, we will put to rest any rumors that may be circulating.”
Bea’s face suddenly felt hot.
What the hell was John talking about? Did he really have the nerve to make a proclamation about me being by his side? How presumptuous.
“Then you’re aware that a number of rumors are floating around?” Jenny asked.
Now Bea and John looked at each other. As they did, she saw a glimmer of compassion in her husband’s eyes. She knew he loved his son.
“What rumors, specifically, are you referring to?” Bea asked.
Now it was Jenny and Michael’s turn to look at each other again. Michael took in a deep breath, held it, and then let it out with a heavy sigh. He pulled a chair over and sat down, then slowly crossed one leg over top of the other.
“Well, what is it?” John asked.
Jenny leaned forward and put her elbows on the desk. “If you don’t already know, I’m not sure how to tell you. Have either of you been on the Internet this morning?”
“No,” Bea said. “I purposely avoided it. Max and I… We spent the night in a hotel last night and I’ve had other matters to attend to. I knew videos from our dinner at Honey Hog would make their rounds. But I didn’t think there was anything I could do about it, so I didn’t bother to look. Experiencing the evening live and in person was quite enough.”
Jenny shifted her gaze to John.
“I haven’t been online either,” he said. “I spent the morning discussing my situation with colleagues. We needed to come up with a strategy to handle the hit to my image. And, of course, to make things right with the owners of the restaurant.”
“So you’re serious?” Michael asked, inserting himself for the first time. “You really don’t know?”
The burning sensation spread from Bea’s face down her arms and to the ends of her fingertips, which began to tingle. At any moment, things could fall completely apart.
Was this the moment?
“Just tell us already,” Bea said, the words toppling out of her mouth faster than she would have liked.
“Show them,” Michael said to Jenny.
Reluctantly, Jenny moved her hands to the keyboard that sat at rest in front of her computer. She quietly went through the motions of typing her password to gain access to the machine, then entering some keywords to find what she was looking for. It took less than a minute to get the video queued up and ready. As she turned the monitor around for John and Bea to view, the room went silent. You could have cut the tension with a knife.
“Play it,” John said, gripping the arms of his chair like an airplane passenger experiencing significant turbulence for the first time. Bea shook her head up and down as confirmation. She was as ready as she’d ever be.
As the black screen turned to color and began to move, a shadowy figure wearing a hoodie and a face mask came into view. It was impossible to tell whether it was a man or a woman, young or old. The figure spoke in a robotic voice just like the one Bea had heard on the telephone. For emphasis, words appeared on the screen as they were spoken.
“Rosemary Run’s mayor, John Hughes, has a secret. His wife killed a man in cold blood and he’s helping her cover it up.”
17
“Ludicrous,” John said as he stood up and began to pace at the back of the room. “Is this some kind of joke?”
Jenny and Michael looked at each other yet again. They were trying to figure out how to handle the Hughes family’s situation with as little impact to the school community as possible. That was their job and Bea knew it, but she found herself unable to speak. The room spun around her as she began sweating profusely and gasping for air. Suddenly, her windpipe felt like it had been put in a vice. She started shaking like a leaf, her entire body convulsing. She told herself to stop it and to get it together, but those imperatives did no good. Bea’s body continued in a frightening downward spiral as a sense of impending doom settled over her. A relentless tightness filled her chest. It felt like an elephant had slammed itself down right on top of her. Bea raised a hand to the place where it was most uncomfortable, her heart galloping hard as if every beat was a struggle. She thought it might decide to pound right out of her chest.
“Mrs. Hughes,” Michael said gently. “Can I bring you a glass of water? You aren’t looking so good.”
Bea grabbed onto Michael’s arm and nodded her head yes, her eyes wide and wild with terror. “It hurts,” she said feebly, clutching a spot near her breast bone.
“She could be having a heart attack,” Jenny said to her assistant. “Get the school nurse, would you, please?”
“Sure thing,” Michael said quickly as he left the room.
“And ask Annie to take the boys back to class while you’re at it. We will speak with them later,” she called after him. “We don’t want to alarm Max, so keep things low key.”
“Got it,” Michael confirmed hastily.
“Max…” Bea mouthed, tears flowing down her cheeks. Nothing but a gasping sound came out.
Jenny moved fast, grabbing a brown paper bag out of her desk drawer filled with what looked to be her lunch, then dumping the contents out and rushing to Bea with the bag. “Here, breathe into this,” she instructed. “Breathe as deeply as you can. All the way into the lowest place in your belly. You’ll want to engage your diaphragm.”
Bea took the bag, smashing it to her face clumsily while John continued to move around the back of the room. “Come on, Beatrice,” he scolded. “Cut it out. Someone wants to get a rise out of us. And you’re playing right into their hands.”
“Respectfully, Mr. Hughes,” Jenny asserted. “Back off and give her a minute.”
With Jenny’s permission as a small comfort, Bea continued to descend into what seemed like a dark abyss. The feeling of being outside of herself grew stronger as scenes from the night of the incident flashed through her distressed mind. She threw herself to the floor of Jenny’s office, though the ch
ange of position was barely perceptible from her perspective. In her head, she was back at Eagle’s Point on that fateful night. She could see the wretched man so clearly as he lie on the dirt, his body convulsing much like her own. His short, brown hair was stained with blood where the indentation on his skull was visible. Bea had thought his head looked like a jack-o’-lantern, smashed by rowdy teenagers at Halloween. She hadn’t known what kind of damage a baseball bat would do. She hadn’t taken the time to consider it before she’d swung wide and with all her might.
In an instant, everything went black.
18
When Bea came to, she saw several sets of feet in front of her face, positioned sideways. It took her a minute to figure out she was on her side, splayed out on the floor of Principal Maguire’s office. She noticed two sets of feet wearing matching shoes and moving towards her. As Bea raised her eyes to follow the shoes upwards past the matching black pants and crisp, white uniform shirts, she realized that a pair of officials were here to take her away.
“No!” she said to them as forcefully as she could manage. “I can’t go! My son…”
“Take it easy, Mrs. Hughes,” Jenny said from somewhere in the distance. “You’re going to the hospital to get checked out. We’ll take good care of Max while you’re gone.”
“That’s right,” one of the uniformed officials said. His voice seemed like it was coming from somewhere in the distance, too. “We’re EMTs. We’re going to help you. Try to relax.”
Relax? They want me to relax?
“I’ve got Max. Don’t worry. Let the professionals take care of you,” said a genial voice. Surprisingly, it belonged to John. Bea thought maybe she was imagining things, but he sounded… kind. Whatever had happened, it must have spooked him. His tone reminded her of the old days when they had first met. It soothed her and made her feel safe. She knew it would be fleeting and was mostly an act, but she clung to any small bit of support she could come by these days.
Bea smiled slightly, then rolled onto her back. She tried to relax her shoulders. She knew she needed help. She decided she should get checked out. She would let the EMTs do their job and help her. She cooperated as they scooted her onto a backboard. She was calming down and the pain in her chest was starting to subside. Until her thoughts turned to Travis.
Travis!
No sooner did she think about Travis than he burst through the doorway, a look of grave concern on his face. “Babe!” he exclaimed through watery eyes. “Are you okay? What happened to you?”
Bea felt whatever color was left drain from her face. Her mouth fell open. She was at a complete and total loss for words. “I… I’m…” she tried.
Travis rushed to her side, kneeling down in an open spot beside one of the medics. He grabbed Bea’s hand and lifted it up to his lips to kiss. “I’m right here,” he said. “And I’m not going anywhere.”
Bea could feel John’s eyes on her. And she could predict what he would say before the words came out of his mouth. He’d try to keep himself under control since there was an audience present, then he’d let Bea have it later.
“Beatrice,” John began. “How about you introduce me to your friend?”
The room became so quiet you could hear a pin drop. The male medic glanced down at Bea’s wedding ring, then at Travis’ left hand and finally at John’s. Bea felt ashamed. So much so, that she wished she were invisible. She wished she could sink down into the floor and remain hidden underneath. She thought about how sad her life had become. She’d known things would unravel one day, but this wasn’t how she’d pictured it.
“Oh,” Travis said, releasing Bea’s hand and getting back onto his feet. “John Hughes, I don’t believe we’ve met. I didn’t see you over there.”
Travis didn’t reach out his hand to shake John’s. He was polite, but he intended to stand his ground. His confidence made Bea both grateful and nervous. She was desperate for someone to love her so much that they would stand up for her in the face of any challenge. But on the other hand, she was petrified about what might transpire with Travis and John in the same room. Especially since Travis had called her babe.
“How do you two know each other?” John asked, crossing his hands at the front of his waist in what looked to Bea like his typical politician posture. Everything John did seemed to irritate her these days. She was beyond fed up with him.
“We’re old friends,” Travis said, glancing at Bea. She supposed that description was as good as any.
“Let me get this straight,” John said, his temper rising. “The two of you are old friends who just happened to be together the morning after my wife and son spent the night at a hotel instead of at our home. I doubt I’m the only one who thinks that seems a little suspicious.”
“More like we’re old friends who can count on each other to be there when things get tough,” Travis replied, standing up straight and puffing his chest in a primal show of physical dominance. Bea didn’t think she had ever seen Travis this upset. He was an easy-going guy who was slow to anger. But not today.
“I see,” John said sullenly. “You’re old friends who call each other babe.”
“John!” Bea whelped. The sound that came out of her was more like a squeak than a voice. The pain in her chest was easing up, but bad feelings were rising towards her neck, determined to force their way out somehow. She thought she might vomit.
When Travis heard Bea’s pitiful response, he stepped in front of her, placing himself between her and John.
“Let me guess,” John began. “You think my wife needs protected… From me.”
“I don’t know,” Travis responded, looking around the room at the medics and Jenny for a show of support. “Does she?”
The tension in the room was becoming nearly unbearable. The medics continued to check Bea and get her properly strapped down onto the backboard, but she could tell they didn’t want to be in the middle of any of this. Jenny seemed to want to stay out of it, too, but Bea got the idea that Jenny felt bad for her. Bea thought they were all wondering if John would lose his cool like he had the night before at Honey Hog.
“Mrs. Hughes,” Jenny said as she stepped close to Bea and placed a hand on her forearm. “Is there anyone you can talk to you? A professional, I mean.”
Bea shook her head no, but the thought of it and what a relief it would be sent a flood of tears pouring out of her eyes. She wanted so badly to confess what she had done. She needed to get it off her chest. Holding it in was hurting her and turning her life to shambles. Bea began to sob. Big, fat tears rolled down her cheeks, her body heaving as the emotion forced its way out of her.
“I’m sorry,” Bea said quietly to Jenny. “I don’t know what’s the matter with me. Things are jumbled up. I don’t know what to do to make them right.”
Jenny reached over and got a notepad and pen from the top of her desk. “Here,” she said as she jotted down a name and number. “This is a friend of mine who is a psychologist. His name is Martin Duffie. He was trained at Yale and is one of the best. I’ll tell him to expect your call. I think he could really help you.”
Travis turned away from John and squatted down on the other side of Bea. “Babe,” he said. “I think she’s got the right idea here. Once they check you out at the hospital and clear you to leave, let’s call Dr. Duffie. I’ll wait with you and will drive you wherever you need to go. I won’t leave your side.”
Bea was mortified that John was hearing all of this, but the doting felt good coming from Travis. She was realizing that she had been deprived of love and affection for so long that she craved it. She needed it. She felt guilty for needing it, but she did. She couldn’t help it. She was only human, after all.
Tears continued to roll out of Bea’s eyes. It was as if a fountain had been turned on and the flow couldn’t be stopped. Wetness soaked the sides of Bea’s hair and the backboard below her. She had needed a good cry for a long time. Because John had always been so quick to tell her to suck it up, she had made a
habit of holding her emotions in. She had even come to believe crying was too messy. A show of weakness. But holding her emotions in wasn’t working, that much was clear. Here she was, in front of Travis and relative strangers, crying her eyes out.
“Babe,” Travis tried again, his voice gentle and soothing. His confidence in calling her babe in front of John was impressive. But before Travis could finish, Max burst through the door with Michael Cho and Annie Rogers following closely behind him.
“Mom!” Max exclaimed as he threw his backpack down and rushed to his mother’s side. “Are you okay?”
Travis stood and took a step back.
“She’s fine, son,” John said while standing still. He didn’t move towards Max. “She got herself worked up. You know how she is. Nothing to be too concerned about.”
Travis and Jenny shot John the same disgusted look while Max ignored him.
Hadn’t John shown a glimmer of kindness just a few minutes ago?
“Really?” Travis asked John sarcastically, unable to stop himself.
“I’m okay,” Bea said, finding her voice while embracing her son. “They’re going to take me to get checked out by a doctor. But I think I’m fine.”
“I’m sorry,” Michael said to Bea. “Annie and I tried to stop him. We were almost back to his classroom when Max saw the ambulance parked outside and thought it might be here for you.”
“I’m not sure how he even knew to think it a possibility,” Annie added with a chuckle. She seemed impressed by Max. “Your son broke into a sprint and we couldn’t keep up. I don’t blame him. I probably would have done the same to get to my mama.”
Jenny gave a sympathetic look to her colleagues. She wasn’t upset with them and she wanted them to know it.
“It’s understandable that you’d be worried about your mom,” Jenny said to Max. Then to Michael and Annie, “Don’t worry. Max Hughes is where he needs to be.”
“Thank you,” Bea whispered. “Thank you, all.”