The Shortest Way Home

by Juliette Fay

  The guy clenched his fist and Sean thought, Shit, I am about to get punched.

  But a strange thought came to him in that moment, that maybe getting clocked wasn’t such a terrible thing. Maybe he kind of deserved it in a cosmic, karmic kind of way. He wasn’t always such a great guy.

  In fact, there was a tiny part of him that was just as much of an angry, selfish jerk as the fireplug now raising a fist to him. And that tiny part had convinced itself that it had a right to have what it wanted, no matter the cost to others, because of the bum deal he’d been handed. That tiny part of him was just like this guy.

  So hit me, already, thought Sean. It’d be a relief.

  There was a sound behind them, and they both turned. Amber had squeezed into the corner of the sick bay, knees up in front of her, arms covering her head. She was the smallest possible version of herself, emitting the softest possible whimper of fear.

  Sean glanced back at the guy and watched him deflate. The fist came down, and the menacing energy he’d emanated from the moment he’d walked into the office was gone. Replaced by shame.

  Shame energy, Sean learned, had a whole different feel. He would have to tell Rebecca.

  The guy left.

  “It’s okay,” Sean said, and sat down on the vinyl bed next to Amber, in part because he wanted to make sure she’d heard him, and in part because he was suddenly so exhausted he couldn’t stand upright any longer. And even though Penny had warned him against it, he reached out and laid his hand on her shoulder. “You’re safe, Amber.”

  * * *

  Things happened after that. Amber’s mother came in, having gotten one of Sean’s messages, and Amber told her that Sean had called her father, and he had tried to take her. The mother flipped out quite a bit, yelling at Sean for calling him, and why didn’t he know he wasn’t supposed to call that bastard, she’d told the school a week ago about the court order, and she’d worked so hard to get it, and what use was it if the school completely disregarded it.

  Sean was really too tired to defend himself. Clearly the guy shouldn’t have been called. But he was pretty sure he’d followed protocol, except for the part where he put a hand on Amber’s shoulder. He didn’t mention that, but he almost did.

  Because this weird thing was happening. He was realizing things about himself. Things he’d been blind to. The angry, selfish jerk part, mostly. The guy who thought he was entitled just to play the game for himself, without any concern for his team. Also, blind to the fact that he had a team. But he did, he could see that now. And blind to the possibility that God’s idea of Sean might not be limited to a guy who patches up poor people. God’s plan for Sean might be evolving.

  Sean himself might be evolving, too.

  CHAPTER 57

  On the drive home, Sean considered that he might lose his job. Amber’s mother had vowed to get to the bottom of the disregard of the court order. Heads were going to roll. As she left with her mother, Sean heard Amber trying to defend him through chattering teeth, recounting how Sean had been ready to get into a fistfight. This had only served to enrage her mother further.

  Yeah, he could definitely be fired.

  And he realized he was disappointed. A week ago he probably wouldn’t have cared. But now he saw there was more to it than splinter removal and lice checks—quite a bit more—and he would miss it. The nurse’s office wasn’t a war zone or a disaster area . . . except when it was.

  * * *

  It was a quiet night. Sean’s thoughts continued to swirl. He considered calling Rebecca to apologize, but with his mind swimming in uncharted waters, he felt like he would botch the job. He made dinner. He checked Kevin’s eye, which seemed to be healing nicely, though it was still purple. Kevin said he kind of liked it. It made him look tough.

  He did get a call from someone late at night, as he sat in the kitchen watching the wind dance with the curtains. It was Da. Ireland wasn’t working out.

  “As a boy I was ashamed that I only spoke Irish. Now I’m ashamed that I don’t speak it well enough. I miss Kevin. And you. I’m going to come back and rent a little apartment in the area so I can visit.”

  Of course you are, thought Sean, shaking his head in wonder at the uncanny convergence of needy family members. “I’ll help you find a spot,” he said.

  * * *

  It was no surprise to Sean that both he and Penny were pulled into the principal’s office as soon as they got to work the next morning. Stan Girardi was not a happy man. It was seven-thirty and he was already sweating. “Sean, what the hell happened yesterday afternoon,” he demanded.

  Sean recounted the series of events, leaving nothing out, not even inviting Amber’s father to fight him, or putting his hand on Amber’s shoulder. It felt good to come clean.

  “Oh, my God,” breathed Penny, looking pale. “It’s my fault.”

  “What?” said Sean. “You weren’t even there.”

  “I got the notice to take Amber’s father off her emergency card and I didn’t do it. So many other things were piling up, and I just hadn’t gotten to it yet.”

  “Jesus, Penny,” said Stan. “If he’d actually taken the kid, we could have been sued!”

  Not to mention the kid getting hurt, thought Sean. “Penny’s been working so hard,” he said. “She’s killing herself—no one could do a better job.”

  “I’m going to have to reprimand you both,” said Stan. “Penny for the paperwork failure, and you, Sean, for baiting a parent to a physical confrontation.” He stared down at his desk and moved a pen into his pencil can. He took off his glasses and wiped them. “Consider yourselves reprimanded.” And that was it.

  The day was a little strange. The office was flooded with kids who didn’t seem to have that much wrong—a headache or a funny feeling in their stomachs—but wanted nonetheless to hang out for a little while. Teachers stopped by to murmur their thanks for protecting Amber.

  And strangest of all: at the end of the day, Kevin came in for a ride home.

  “So,” said Sean as they pulled out of the parking lot, “to what do I owe the honor?”

  “That thing where you practically took that girl’s father out? It’s all over school. You’re like a hero now.”

  “What? Who told you?”

  “Amber texted a bunch of her friends and it spread like crazy. All the kids are writing KITA on their notebooks.” He showed Sean his.

  “What’s KITA?”

  “It stands for ‘Kick It Then, Asshole.’ Did you really say that?”

  Sean shook his head, embarrassed. “I . . . I don’t remember the exact words.”

  “I bet you did. Anyway, Amber says so. You should just agree with her.”

  When they got home, Sean checked on Aunt Vivvy, and then he and Kevin took George for a walk in the woods. As they passed the graveyard, Sean stopped for a moment and looked over.

  “Do you want to go?” said Kevin.

  Sean hadn’t really thought about it, but he wasn’t averse to the idea. Somehow it didn’t seem as depressing as it used to. They walked through the brush and over the old stone wall surrounding the cemetery. Kevin knew where the headstones were and headed right for them.

  They stood there looking at the two graves—one for Lila and the other for Hugh. Then Kevin went over and sat at the base of a nearby maple, and George lay down next to him.

  “Looks like you’ve been here before,” said Sean.

  “Sometimes,” said Kevin. “Not that often.”

  Sean sat down next to him, and they looked at the stones some more. Sean had always dreaded this very thing, but it wasn’t so bad. His mother and Hugh were dead. It was part of living in the world—not on the edge of it, as Rebecca had said.

  “So,” he said to Kevin, “I’ve made a decision.”

  “What decision?”
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  “I’m not going to Haiti. I’m going to stay here with you and Aunt Vivvy.”

  Kevin’s face went wide with joy, and it reminded Sean of the trampoline and how utterly blissful it made him. But then the boy seemed to reconsider his good fortune, and his expression turned stoic. “Thanks,” he said. “That’s really nice of you.”

  Sean was stunned. “What’s the matter?”

  “Um,” said Kevin. “Well, that means I have to be good all the time, right?”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because I know you really wanted to go, and you’re just staying because there’s no one to take care of me. So that’s like a . . . ­something you have to give up that you don’t want to—it’s a . . .”

  “A sacrifice?”

  “Yeah. So I have to be, like, really good so you’re not sorry you did the sacrifice.”

  Sean gazed at him. “You don’t have to be really good. Don’t get me wrong, I’m in favor of good behavior. But you can just be yourself. And you’re right, I used to think it would be a big sacrifice—you probably picked up on that.”

  Kevin raised his eyebrows and nodded.

  Sean laughed. “Well, I realized something. It isn’t. Actually I think it’ll be really good.”

  “Are you going to keep working at my school?”

  “No, that job’s over at the end of the month. But I’ll find something.”

  “Are you and Rebecca going to get married?”

  “Not sure. I really care about her a lot, but we’re still working things out.”

  Kevin nodded sagely, and Sean suppressed a smile.

  “What about Aunt Vivvy? What if she takes off again?”

  “Yeah, that’s a tough one. We’re going to have to figure out a way to keep her safe while you and I are out of the house.”

  “So,” said Kevin. “There’s still a lot of flux.”

  Sean nodded. “A ton. But that’s kind of how it goes. You get one thing nailed down, something else pops up.”

  “But you staying—that’s nailed down?”

  “Completely.”

  A grin bloomed on Kevin’s face again, like he was just now believing it. He gave Sean a nudge with his shoulder, and Sean nudged him back. He patted the dog and looked up at the trees. He took a deep breath and let it out.

  “Smells good,” he said.

  Yeah, thought Sean. It does.

  CHAPTER 58

  After a bit they hiked back home, and Kevin pulled out his homework. Sean told him he’d be back before dinner. There was something he needed to take care of. He drove over to Belham Center, looking for a florist. But then something in the hardware store window caught his eye. A little unorthodox, he thought, so I guess it’s fitting.

  At home again, he set a salmon fillet in the broiler and put some rice on to cook. He was just snapping the ends off the green beans when Aunt Vivvy came into the kitchen and sat down. Without a word he filled the teakettle and put it on the burner. They listened to the sproinging sound of Kevin bouncing on the trampoline. Sean finished the green beans and made the tea. He sat down as he set it in front of her. “I’m not leaving,” he said.

  She cut her eyes toward him, then took a sip of her tea. “For now,” she said.

  “Everything’s ‘for now.’ ”

  “True.”

  “This ‘for now’ should be a while, though.”

  “That’s very dutiful of you.”

  “Yes,” he said. “It also happens to be what I want.”

  “You’ll get bored.”

  “I’m sure I will—there’s no place on the planet that isn’t boring from time to time. But that’s my problem, not yours.”

  Aunt Vivvy sipped her tea. Sproing, sproing went the trampoline.

  “I like that Rebecca,” she said. “Don’t make the same mistake I made. I find you very unpleasant when you’re heartbroken.”

  He laughed. “I’ll do my best, Auntie.” And he leaned over and kissed her soft wrinkled cheek.

  * * *

  After dinner, he powered up his laptop. There were three messages in his in-box—a flood by his standards. The first was from the middle school reminding sixth-grade parents about the upcoming bike trip to Walden Pond. The next, from Cormac, had the subject line “KITA.”

  Tree just told me. Apparently you’re a legend in the whole school system now. I hear they’re going to make a TV movie about it. Who do you want to play you—Chuck Norris or Jean-Claude Van Damme? Bah ha ha!

  The final e-mail was from someone named Lorianna offering enhancement products that Sean was pretty sure weren’t based on medical science. He chuckled. My first spam.

  He sent a message to Yasmin Chaudhry, saying that although he’d love to work with her again, his family needed him, and it just wasn’t in the cards right now. He found himself telling her about his school nurse work, his experience with Amber and how familiar it had seemed.

  She’s not the kind of refugee you and I are used to, but she’s a refugee all the same. I’m thinking I’ll look into Emergency Department positions, maybe in Boston, where my language skills would be useful. Even if I end up as a school nurse, there’s good work to do anywhere.

  He asked if there might be an opportunity for short-term stints at her clinic—a week or so—and whether he could bring some nonmedical volunteers with him.

  Then he picked up the phone and dialed. “Hey,” he said, “I’m calling first.”

  “How’s your energy?” Rebecca asked drily.

  “Stable as the Rock of Gibraltar.”

  * * *

  When she opened the door her face was composed, but he could tell she was wary, her sensors scanning him for hidden pockets of irrational anger.

  He held out his peace offering, a doormat. “For your new-old house.” He pointed to the pumpkin-colored sun printed on the brown fibers. “When you use it, you’ll be . . .” he prompted.

  She thought for a minute. “Walking on sunshine?”

  He smiled, gratified that she got the joke. She pursed her lips, but a hint of a reciprocal smile broke through anyway. She let him in.

  In daylight, and without the toxic veil of his guilt and anger, he could appreciate what she’d accomplished with the room. The soothing cream-colored walls were the perfect canvas for the warm wood and jewel tones of the furniture. It was a room you could sit in all day long and never wish for something better. “Wow,” he said appreciatively.

  “Yeah, I’m pretty happy with it.”

  “Sorry I didn’t notice it the other night when I was here.”

  She crossed her arms. “You weren’t in a particularly noticing mood.”

  “I was pretty busy,” he said. “Being a jackass takes a lot of focus.”

  She let out a little chuckle of agreement and sat down on the couch, which he took as permission to do the same. “I’m really sorry,” he said. “A whole ocean of sorry for the way I acted.”

  She nodded, accepting it, and the simple gesture sent a warm wave of relief through him.

  “There’s no excuse,” he went on, “but here’s why.” He told her about how Barb had cornered him about raising Kevin, and his guilt rising to new heights, and how crazy it had made him feel. “So of course, I came here because you always make me feel better about everything, and I ended up taking it out on you.” He grinned at her. “And you threw me out!”

  “You were awful!”

  “Okay, well, let me ask you this: have you ever done that before—shown someone the door like that?”

  “Wait a minute,” she warned. “If you’re making some point about how you once again taught me to stand up for myself—”

  “No! I wasn’t teaching you anything other than what a jerk I can be. But I have to tell you, it wa
s kind of . . . I don’t know, impressive. Like we must be pretty solid if you’re comfortable enough to chuck me when I’m being an idiot.”

  She gazed at him, contemplating their solidity, and he could see the pain behind her eyes. “I’m not going to Haiti,” he said. “I’m staying here.”

  Her face went wide with disbelief. “Sean, you can’t give up the one thing that makes you really happy. It’ll crush us. It’ll crush everything.”

  “My God, Rebecca, do you think that’s the only thing that makes me happy? You make me crazy happy. Kevin, for all his little quirks, makes me unbelievably happy. I’d be miserable so far away from you two. I’m just sorry it took me so long to get that.”

  Rebecca watched him intently as he spoke, slowly absorbing the here-ness of him.

  “There’s something else,” he said. “I’ve been thinking about what you said about getting tested, and I’m going to look into it. I think I’m ready to know.”

  She was still for a moment. Then she launched herself into his arms, hugging him so tightly he could barely take a full breath. He held her and stroked her hair, still a little surprised by how much he could affect her. He was used to saving people’s lives, but he still wasn’t entirely accustomed to making this kind of personal impact. He would have to get used to that, he told himself, now that he no longer lived on the edges of the world, but right in the heart of it.

  Juliette Fay’s previous novel is also available from Penguin.

  Read on for the first chapter of

  ISBN 978-0-14-311851-0

  CHAPTER 1

  In jeans that fit four pounds ago but now squeezed her in a mildly intrusive manner, Dana stood at her kitchen counter pinching foil over a tray of lasagna and waiting on hold, the phone wedged against her shoulder. Her gaze skimmed the obituaries in the local paper, but Dermott McPherson’s name did not appear—not this time anyway. Mr. McPherson was the reason she’d made the lasagna, though it wasn’t actually for him. He probably wasn’t eating much. It was for his family, who were understandably distraught over their loved one’s terminal illness. Dana didn’t know them. She belonged to Comfort Food, a group who cooked for families in crisis.