Where You Are

by J. H. Trumble

She picks up an envelope from the table and hands it to me.

  “What’s this?” I open the envelope. Inside is a large, a very large, check signed by Aunt Whitney. I look up at Mom.

  “Whitney and I had a come-to-Jesus meeting. She was pretty upset that you aren’t going to LSU. But, according to your grandfather’s will, if you choose not to go and pursue a degree in medicine, the money he’d set aside was to be split evenly amongst all his grandchildren. It’s not enough to get you through four years and veterinary school, but it’s a good start. This is just a loan until the funds are released. It’s her way of making peace.” She grins. “And you’re headed to Texas A and M, young man.”

  “I’m not going to A and M. I didn’t make top ten percent.”

  “I know that,” she says, touching my cheek. She’s been doing a lot of that lately—hugging me, putting a comforting hand on me. “But this money means you won’t have to work, and you won’t have to depend on massive loans. You can focus on your classes and transfer in next year.”

  It takes only a split second to make my decision. “I don’t want it.” I stuff the check back in the envelope and hold it out to her. “I want to do it on my own, Mom. And I don’t want Grandfather’s money either. You can use it to pay down the house.”

  “It’s not my money.”

  “Then I’ll pay down the house with it. You’ve struggled enough.”

  “Robert—”

  I shake my head, and when she won’t take the envelope, I lay it back on the table.

  Some state representative is giving the commencement speech today, but I’m not listening. I’m scanning the room. I don’t expect him to be here, but I can’t completely tamp down the hope sparking in my chest. I see Curtis sitting with Luke’s mom and dad. They’re the only faces that register with me as I fidget with the edges of my gown.

  My row stands and I stand with them. We make our way to the stairs on the side of the stage. One by one, my classmates walk the stage.

  “Blake Walker.”

  Mom waves from the audience. I smile back weakly.

  “Johnathan West.”

  I climb the steps and take another good look at the families and friends who’ve come to celebrate this day. Where are you?

  “Robert Westfall.”

  I imagine that the room is unnaturally quiet as I shake Mr. Redmon’s hand—“I’m very proud of you, Robert”—and then the superintendent’s—“Congratulations, Son.”

  And then I exit stage left.

  It seems like everyone is in a hugging mood today, everyone but me, that is. Mom’s never met a lot of my friends so I introduce them as we go. Even Nic stops me for a perfunctory hug in the parking lot as we make our way to my car.

  “You sure you don’t want to drop me at the house and go hang out with some of your friends?” Mom asks as I open the door for her.

  “Robert.”

  My head snaps up, and my heart thuds in my chest. Luke is bounding between the cars lined up to leave, dragging Curtis with him. He drops Curtis’s hand when he reaches the bumper and pulls me in for a big, swaying, back-slapping hug. “Congratulations, man,” he says.

  “Yeah. You too,” I say when he releases me. “Hey, Curtis.”

  Curtis eyes me with that mixture of suspicion and warning I’ve long since gotten used to, but he reaches out to shake my hand anyway. Damn, he’s possessive. But I know Luke is right when he says he’s got Curtis wrapped around his little finger.

  “We’re not leaving for Galveston for another couple of hours,” Luke says. “Still time to change your mind.”

  I turn away from Curtis and fix my eyes on Luke. “I thought he would be here.”

  Chapter 50

  Robert

  Early August. The summer has been long, hot, and exceptionally dry. Thousands of trees have succumbed to the drought, their brown leaves and needles in stark contrast to their luckier comrades with roots deep enough to weather the anomaly. I feel like one of those dying trees.

  The bell over the door jangles as a woman enters with a towel-wrapped tabby in her arms. I check the appointment book. Ginger. Kidney failure. She was in two days ago for blood work. Dr. Nickels made the call himself yesterday morning.

  “Ah, poor baby,” Misty says, coming around the counter and taking the bundle from her owner’s arms. “You don’t look like you feel so good.”

  The owner, Ms. Sampson, hitches her purse back onto her shoulder. “She threw up again last night even though she hasn’t eaten anything in two days,” she says anxiously.

  Misty runs her hand gently over the cat’s head as I locate her file. “Let’s get you weighed, girl.” She takes the folder from me and leads the owner down the hallway.

  I finish bagging up some flea and tick control for a toy Chihuahua, then print off the receipt and hand it and the bag over the counter to the young woman as the bell over the door jangles again. It’s been a busy Saturday morning already. We usually close at noon, but it’s shaping up to be a late closing again today. That’s okay. I like being here. I feel like I belong, and it’s a way to keep my mind busy until classes start in a couple of weeks.

  I smile as the woman scoops up her ridiculously tiny dog with a tiny bow clipped to the short hairs on top of its tiny head. She tosses me a thank you over her shoulder. I look around her to greet the next patient, but the greeting catches in my throat.

  He’s standing there, dressed in his Math Geek T-shirt—the one he wore the night we went dancing together—plaid shorts and flip-flops, holding Kiki with one hand. A round-bellied, spotted puppy is tucked into the crook of his other arm. He looks thinner. But he’s every bit as beautiful as I remember him. He smiles at me. I look away for a moment and blink a few times to steady myself, then turn back to him. “It’s been a long time.”

  He nods. “I don’t have an appointment,” he says.

  No, you don’t. I reach across the counter and take the puppy from him. “New doggie?” I say to Kiki, scratching the dog’s spotted belly. He wiggles in my arms. “Let me guess his name. Um, Spot.”

  She screws up her face. “No.”

  “A puppy!” Misty says, coming back behind the counter and taking the dog from me. “Is this your puppy?” she asks Kiki.

  “His name is Wobert,” she says proudly.

  I glance at Andrew. He shrugs. “She named him after a pony.”

  “His name is Robert too,” Misty says, pointing to me. “Do you have an appointment?” she asks Andrew.

  We say no at the same time.

  “Yikes,” she says, looking at the appointment book. “New-puppy visit?”

  “Yeah,” Andrew says.

  “If you don’t mind waiting, Dr. Nickels might be able to work you in.”

  “Great.” Andrew takes the clipboard she hands him, and the puppy, then casts another unreadable look at me before taking a seat in the waiting room with the other pet owners.

  I keep busy, but I can’t help sneaking looks at him. I’d hoped one day I’d see him again, but I never anticipated this awkwardness. When he’s finished filling out the paperwork, he leaves Kiki on the chair and brings the clipboard back to me. I take it from him without lifting my eyes. He loiters at the counter.

  “Are you just here for the weekend?” I ask as I remove the papers and clip them into a file.

  “No. I moved back.”

  My heart rises into my throat. I swallow and force it back down, then lift my eyes to his. “Wow. I guess you’re surprised to run into me today.”

  “Robert—”

  I turn my back on him and busy myself copying papers that don’t need copying and shelving medicines that don’t need shelving. I hold my breath until, finally, he leaves the counter and returns to his seat. I don’t look at him again.

  He hasn’t tried to contact me. Not once. And how long has he been back? And now he shows up here with a new puppy. He must have been just as shocked to see me as I was to see him.

  By the time Misty leads them to a r
oom, the waiting area is empty. Only the man at the counter holding the leash of a Lab with a staph infection remains. Andrew hesitates as he passes the counter, but I’m busy checking out the Lab and spared the awkward moment. And when he returns to the counter twenty minutes later, I make sure I’m in an empty treatment room, sweeping up dog hair.

  Andrew

  He’s angry. I don’t blame him. But I saw something else in his eyes, too, something that’s gotten me all goose bumpy and giddy.

  I drop Kiki and Wobert back at Maya’s. She blubbers when she sees the dog in my arms.

  “It’s just for a couple of hours,” I tell her, quickly before she can say no. “He can stay with me. I just need to leave him here for a bit. Promise. Just a couple of hours.”

  She reluctantly takes the dog from me. I’m grinning like a nut, but I just can’t help it.

  “Did you see him?” she asks.

  I nod.

  Her eyes mist up, but she smiles. I plant a quick kiss on her cheek, then scoop up Kiki and swing her around in a circle and plop her back on the ground. “Gotta run!”

  I crank up the stereo on my way to a quick stop at H-E-B. I don’t care who sees me. I hope they see me. I hope everyone sees me. Then I beat a path back to the clinic and wait. It’s ninety-eight degrees in the shade, but I’ll wait all day if I have to.

  At two o’clock he finally emerges from the clinic. He’s still wearing the green scrubs. His eyes are downcast, so he doesn’t see the whiteboard on his windshield until he’s right on it. I watch from my post at the corner of the clinic as he takes it in his hands and reads the one word—Glaze. He squeezes his eyes shut and presses his fist to his mouth.

  “I’ve missed you,” I say, stepping out into the open.

  He opens his eyes, fixes them on the whiteboard. “You’re late,” he says, his voice thick.

  “I know,” I say gently. “I was kind of tied up with this little legal matter, and . . . I just hope I’m not too late.”

  He stares at the whiteboard for another long moment, then erases it with the hem of his shirt. “Where’s the puppy you scammed from the shelter?”

  Scammed? “I left him with Maya. She’s not too thrilled.”

  “So you moved back in,” he says, matter-of-factly. He shakes his head.

  “Actually, no.” But I don’t think he hears me. He looks up at me, his face stricken.

  “You weren’t even going to call me. And if you hadn’t accidently run into me today . . .”

  “It wasn’t an accident, Robert.”

  Confusion pinches the features of his face.

  “I just got back this morning. I drove all night. My first stop was your house. Your mom—and she’s very sweet, by the way, and I think she likes me—” He doesn’t react to my little joke. “She told me I just missed you, then she told me you work here. I picked up Kiki, we went to the shelter and found a dog—I may live to regret that one day.” I laugh lightly. “And, well, you know the rest.”

  “No, I don’t know the rest.” That flash of anger again. He looks up at the sky and blinks a few times. Then he sniffs. “You never tried to see me. You never—”

  “I did! But when you didn’t meet me in the parking lot that night, I—”

  “What night?”

  “Your birthday. The note? The flowers?”

  More confusion. “You never sent me—wait.” I can see him scanning his memory. “Holy shit. You sent those flowers?”

  “I wanted to—”

  “I thought they were from Nic. I gave them back to him.”

  I exhale and close my eyes a moment, and then I laugh. My nose burns, and I laugh harder. Holy shit is right.

  “What did the note say?”

  I look at him, but I can’t stop grinning. “You gave away my flowers?” I walk slowly toward him. “You think I’m just going to hand over that information now?” Hell yes, I am. “I was desperate to see you. I waited in the H-E-B parking lot for hours. But you didn’t come.” I shrug.

  “I didn’t know. I tried to call you, but she blocked my number.”

  I feel a white-hot flash in my chest. Maya. All this time, and she never told me. In fact, she’d worked hard to convince me that I’d thrown away my career over some fickle high school kid. She let me languish in Oklahoma for months until I just couldn’t take it anymore. In the end, the need to see it for myself beat out my pride. I’d hardly allowed myself to hope for anything like the pain I see in his face now. I have to own up to the fact that Maya manipulated me to the bone, and I let her.

  “I’ve really screwed up, baby,” I say, walking toward him. “And I don’t have anything to offer you anymore.”

  He looks at me now, really looks at me. His breath hitches and he blinks again to clear his own eyes. “You have flowers.”

  I’d almost forgotten about them. I look down at the flowers in my hand, the florist tissue damp from sweat. “Isn’t that what a guy brings when he’s courting his paramour?” I lift my eyes to his again.

  “Yeah. I heard that somewhere.”

  “I should have been there for you.”

  “Yeah. You should have.”

  I nod. He’s going to make me work for this. He should.

  “So what happens now? Your ex-wife hates me. I doubt she’ll be inviting me over for dinner anytime soon.”

  I realize he still doesn’t know. “I’m not living with Maya, Robert. I got a job with a cell phone company. A few weeks ago, they agreed to transfer me here. I have an apartment, but no furniture. I haven’t even picked up the keys yet.” He’s watching me as I draw closer, trying to make sense out of everything I’m telling him, still wary, I think. When I reach him, I get down on one knee and offer him the flowers, but the searing heat of the asphalt registers on my bare knee, and I get quickly back to my feet and brush at my reddened flesh. “Shit, that’s hot.”

  He smiles. That’s when I know we’re going to be okay. “I’m not dancing on any damn futon,” he says.

  “I’ll get a real bed. You can help me pick it out. We’ll put it right smack in the middle of the living room. I’ll even let you watch Tosh.O with your pants off if you want.”

  “Hmm,” he responds, but his smile widens. He takes the flowers from me and studies them.

  “I love you, Robert Westfall. I have loved you”—he throws his arms around me and I stagger back a few steps, then wrap mine around him—“since the moment you texted me that silly flasher joke,” I finish.

  It’s a lie. I think I was lost long before that.

  We cling to each other in the heavy heat like we’ve docked for recharging. And I think, Yes, that’s exactly what we’re doing.

  “We have an awful lot to talk about,” I say in his ear. “And I’m starved. Let me take you for a late lunch. I know a little deli around the corner.”

  He laughs. “I have a feeling there’s a Subway sandwich in my future.”

  He knows me so well.

  “Someone might see us together,” he adds.

  “I hope they do.”

  I really, really hope they do.

  A READING GROUP GUIDE

  Where You Are

  J. H. Trumble

  About This Guide

  The following discussion questions and playlist are included to enhance your group’s reading of Where You Are.

  Discussion Questions

  1. The title of the novel comes from the belief that teachers should meet students where they are. Discuss the title as it pertains to Andrew’s interaction with his students and, in particular, with Robert.

  2. Why do you think Robert reaches out to Andrew as opposed to his own mother or Luke or Nic or any of his other friends? What do you think attracts Robert to Andrew? Andrew to Robert?

  3. Discuss the role of social networking in the novel, especially as it pertains to Andrew’s homosexuality. Do you believe that teachers should be held to a different standard than other adults, that they should be above reproach in their personal as well as th
eir professional lives? And if so, to what extent? How does that apply to their sexual orientation?

  4. At Sam Houston State University, Robert confesses to Andrew that he is anxious for his father’s death: “I know he’s my dad and all, but I feel like he’s just this thing that sucks all the oxygen out of the room. Like the world has stopped spinning and it can’t start again until he’s gone.” Robert is worried that he is a bad person because he feels nothing for his dad. Do you believe this is true? Is there anything that suggests otherwise? How do you explain Robert’s feelings toward his dad?

  5. The Texas law referenced in the novel imposes a penalty of up to twenty years in prison for a teacher convicted of having sex with a student, regardless of the student’s age. The law is based on the belief that teachers have power over students, and that power undercuts the ability of students to freely give consent. Discuss this “power differential” and your feelings about a law that makes criminals out of consenting adults.

  6. Robert tells Andrew that in the Westfall family, if you’re not a doctor, you’re nothing. How does his belief play out in the Westfall family dynamics?

  7. Robert frequently texts song lyrics to Andrew, and occasionally Andrew texts song lyrics back. A playlist, which includes some of those songs, is included on the following pages. What role do these lyrics play in their relationship?

  8. There are a number of out gay students at Robert’s school—Robert, Nic, Luke, the RW fan club. How realistic is this? In what ways does the school climate indicate that gay students are no big deal? Is this true for teachers as well? Explain. How does this compare to your own high school experience?

  9. Robert’s mom believes that her husband resented her because of his dependence on her after his cancer diagnosis. In what ways did this resentment play out? Do you believe his resentment is a function of his immaturity, or do you believe dependency breeds resentment?