by Karen Young
Not that Jason wanted her help. He sat across from her now in her office, polite, respectful and so bent on stone-walling her that she was truly tempted to give up and just point him to the door and dismiss him from her mind. She couldn’t recall ever having a more arduous time trying to coax dialogue from a student. But there was something wrong when an eighteen-year-old star athlete had begun bingeing on beer every weekend—even sometimes during the week. So, with Jack Ford always lurking in the back of her mind, her own personal reminder that a beautiful, talented athlete and gifted student could shock everybody and go off the deep end, she couldn’t give up on Jason. It wouldn’t happen to this boy, she vowed. Not if she could help it.
“I see you have a sister, Jason,” she said, attempting to draw from him a clue to his home life.
“Yes, ma’am. Jennifer.” One knee bounced restlessly. He seemed to realize it suddenly and shifted in the chair, then put his hands on his knees as if to keep himself under control.
“She’s thirteen,” Rachel said, looking at his file, then up into his eyes. She smiled. “Some say that’s a difficult age for girls.”
“She’s okay.”
Dead end there. Okay. Rachel knew the boy’s mother was battling breast cancer. The whole family was probably in crisis over that, which sometimes left the kids feeling adrift, even abandoned. “Are you worried about your mother?” It was a direct question, but she was fresh out of ideas on how to approach him subtly.
“I guess. The doctor said she’s done great with the chemo treatments. He says her tests show her cured.”
“That’s really wonderful news,” Rachel said warmly. “I’m as happy to hear that as you and Jennifer must be.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She cast in her mind for more small talk in the effort to get him to open up. “Is she going to be able to get out now and see you play?”
“She’s not much of a sports fan. And my dad’s been real busy looking after her, but that’s okay. I understand.”
Did he really? As a result of his mother’s cancer, they’d missed most of his games this season, which had probably overshadowed everything else in the family, Jason’s sports career included. Was he drowning his disappointment? Could it be that simple? “Coach Monk tells me you’re one of his most promising athletes. There’s bound to be a scholarship when you graduate. Possibly more than one.”
“Yes, ma’am. So he says.”
She paused, picking up a note of…what, irony? “You don’t doubt what he says, do you?”
He gave a short laugh. “Nobody doubts what The Man says.”
“Do you have a problem with Coach Monk?”
He stared at his hands. “If I did, I wouldn’t be playing varsity quarterback.”
Okay, maybe there was something going on, possibly having to do with politics on the team or maybe trouble trying to please Monk Tyson. Hopefully that wasn’t it, as this boy didn’t need any more stress than he was already dealing with, considering that until lately he’d probably believed he might lose his mother. Rachel didn’t think there was much chance that Jason would confide anything negative that might get back to “The Man.” She was surprised he’d even given a hint of intrigue in Tyson’s little kingdom. But if Jason was drinking to avoid dealing with whatever it was troubling him, the effect was still dangerous and it still put his future in jeopardy. Maybe it was time to quit beating around the bush.
“Drinking the way you do could destroy your chances at a professional career in sports, Jason. You must know that.”
“I guess.” His knee was bouncing again and he looked tense. Rachel sensed he was on the verge of springing up out of the chair and leaving.
“Jason.” She rose, moved around the desk and sat down in the chair beside him. “Why would you keep on doing something that is going to have such dire consequences? Have you thought about that?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She waited. He said nothing. “And—” she prompted.
He shrugged, remaining mute.
She sighed. “There is help out there, Jason. Have you considered that? There’s AA, there’s—”
“I don’t need any of that!” he said, finally showing real emotion. His face was suddenly flushed and he was breathing hard. Both hands were clenched into fists. “I don’t need it because I know what—”
Rachel waited, holding her breath. He turned from her, but not before she’d caught a glimpse of tears in his eyes. “You know…what, Jason?” she urged softly.
He met her eyes then and her heart swelled with sympathy. There was anguish there, and such pain that she wanted to lean forward, put her arms around him, as she would if he were her own and tell him everything would be all right.
“How do you know if you’re gay, Ms. Forrester?”
Seven
Just when Rachel was thinking Ted had apparently dropped off the face of the earth, she found him waiting for her when she got home that evening. The session with Jason had taken a lot out of her, and she really didn’t feel up to a sparring match with Ted. But she’d driven out to the lake several times since discovering what he’d done with their finances with no luck, so if she wanted a conversation with him, it was probably going to be at his convenience, not hers. Apparently, he and Francine were taking no chances on being subjected to another of Rachel’s temper tantrums and were making themselves scarce. There’d been no answer when she tried his cell phone, either. Frustrated, she’d left numerous voice mail messages asking him to name a time when they could talk. Now, four days later, it seemed he’d finally decided to come out of seclusion.
“Where have you been, Ted? I’ve been trying to reach you for days.” What energy she had left might as well be used up front. She watched him pour himself a drink at the bar and down most of it in one swallow.
“I’ve been busy.”
“I noticed that when I went to the bank and discovered you’d emptied our checking account and frozen most everything else. It’s a despicable thing to do, letting me find out when my ATM card was rejected for insufficient funds. Why didn’t you tell me when I saw you at the cabin? What’s gotten into you, for heaven’s sake! What do you expect the kids and me to live on?”
He removed his sunglasses and revealed a fading bruise around his eye. With a sigh, he massaged the bridge of his nose with thumb and forefinger. “I did it to avoid the possibility of us getting tangled in a financial squabble since I’d had a sample of the way you’ve decided to react about Francine and me.”
“Oh, bullshit! You thought I’d rush to the bank and grab everything, so you acted to beat me to it.”
“It’s happened before when couples divorce.”
She propped her hands on her hips. “So you’ve definitely decided. It’s a divorce, not a trial separation?”
He sat down, dangling the half-empty drink between his knees. “I just know I want to be with Francine.” Gone was the defiant lover he’d been at the cabin. Instead, he was now glum. He also looked as if a migraine was coming on. At one time, she would have been sympathetic. Now she felt no urge to find his pills or to say something soothing. Just the opposite.
“Listen to yourself, Ted! You sound like a teenage boy in the throes of a mad crush. Give me a break, please. I have to deal with adolescents every day at school. This is serious. This is the future of our children you’re monkeying around with. Have you considered the consequences? Have you really thought through what you’re doing?”
“I haven’t been happy for a long time, Rachel.”
She simply stared at him, wondering at his selfishness. “I think you’ve managed to convey that message now, Ted. But, just out of curiosity, if I hadn’t seen you and Francine together, when were you going to tell me you were unhappy?”
“I knew you’d freak out. Or start a campaign designed to fix the problem.” He took a drink. “Some things can’t be fixed.”
She gave a bitter laugh. “I don’t know if my reaction over your infidelity was freaky o
r not, but I can tell you I certainly freaked out when you pulled the financial rug out from under me and your children. I’m not going to sit by while you grab everything we’ve worked for in eighteen years. I’m fighting you on this, Ted.”
“It’s a moot point, anyway, now,” he said, running a palm over his two-hundred-dollar haircut. “I’m the one who’s had the financial rug pulled out from under me.”
She frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“Walter. He talked the other doctors into voting me out of the practice. When I got there Monday morning, they’d already met over the weekend and had a document drafted with the buy-out terms. It’s totally unacceptable. It’ll be a cold day in hell before I let him grab my practice. I’ve spent twelve years building up that practice. Who the hell does he think he is?”
“I think that’s pretty obvious. He’s your partner and you stole his wife. It’s a betrayal of the most hurtful kind.”
“That wouldn’t have happened if Francine had been getting what she needed from him,” he said, staring into his drink.
Rachel sank back against the chair’s cushions. “Then I can assume the same thing? You weren’t getting what you needed from me and you could get it from Francine?”
“I told you, it just happened. We didn’t plan it.”
“Uh-huh. And I heard you the first time.” She stood up. “As for the manner of Walter’s revenge, you must have had a clue when he stormed over Saturday morning with blood in his eye. You can’t steal a man’s wife and expect him to have no hard feelings. And you can’t expect the other doctors in the practice to turn a blind eye either. Everything that’s happened is so predictable, Ted. How did you not assume there would be some negative fallout? Walter simply chose the most effective way to retaliate.”
“I’m not taking this lying down. I’m fighting them in court.” Setting his drink aside, he reached for an envelope in his jacket. “You’ve got a stake in this, too. Think about it. If their offer stands, it will affect you and the kids, too. If Walter screws me in this deal, our joint net worth is cut in half. No way is he getting away with this.” He gave her the envelope. “Here, my lawyer drew this up.”
She took it, frowning. “What is it?”
“It started out to be the terms of a tentative separation settlement, but it had to be revised after I arrived at the practice Monday morning. Everything’s changed.” He glanced toward the stairs. “Are the kids here?”
“No, Nick’s still at baseball practice and it’s Kendall’s day for gymnastics.” She glanced at her watch as she pulled the folded document from the envelope. “I have to pick her up at six-fifteen,” she said, scanning the first page. She frowned, struggling through the usual legalese until she finally reached the meat of it. Then her eyes widened in disbelief. She looked up at Ted. “You can’t be serious!”
“When have you ever known me to joke about money?”
She held the blue-bound papers as if they were poisonous. “You’re seriously suggesting we sell the house? This house? What makes you think I’d even consider such a crazy thing? This is Nick and Kendall’s home, Ted. It’s not yours to use to get your tail out of a crack.”
“If you can come up with a better idea, I’m open to suggestions.”
As he rose from the chair to freshen his drink, the front door crashed open and Nick burst into the room. “Mom, I gotta talk to you!” He broke stride only momentarily when he spotted his dad, then ignored him to light into his mother. “You have really messed up.”
She gave him a stern look. “Can’t you see your dad and I are having a discussion now, Nick? We’ll be done in—”
“Why did you tell Coach about Dad walking out on us?”
She gave him a startled look. “What are you talking about?”
“Coach saw me after practice and offered a shoulder to cry on, Mom. It was—” Tossing his jacket on a chair, he shook his head as words failed him. “Jeez, Mom. Ward heard it and I don’t know who else. I can see it now, I’ll be trying to live this down for the rest of my life. I don’t believe you did something so bogus!”
“I did not tell Monk Tyson your father walked out.”
“Then how’d he know it?” Nick demanded, his face filled with outrage.
“This is a small town. Word gets around, Nick.” Rachel drew a deep breath, knowing this was not the last time she would have to try to ease the fallout from Ted’s desertion. “Monk mentioned it in the break room this morning,” she explained. “He expressed concern, nothing else.”
“And you let him think I’m such a baby that I might not be able to handle what’s happened?”
Ted finally spoke up. “Nobody thinks that, Nick. And of course you can handle it. If you ask me, it’s a good coach who’s aware of more than just a kid’s stats on the ball team.”
Nick turned on Ted furiously. “What the hell would you know about stats, Dad? You haven’t made one of my ball games this season.”
“Don’t talk to me like that, boy,” Ted ordered. “You know the rules around here about profanity.”
“Yeah, and I guess you’re going to leave it to Mom to enforce the rules as usual, right?”
“Please…” Rachel lifted a hand to stop them. “Let’s all calm down. Nick, my conversation with Monk was not personal, so you have no need to feel embarrassed. He offered to help if you seemed to need it, that’s all. There’s nothing for you to be upset about.”
“Except the whole team is thinking what a trip this is,” Nick said bitterly. “You should have heard Ferdy, then you’d understand. You’re a guidance counselor, Mom. This isn’t supposed to happen to you. Everybody thinks you’re supposed to fix things.”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” Ted said. “You’re looking at real trouble if you start listening to what everybody says.”
“I’m sorry, Nick,” Rachel said quietly, ignoring Ted. “I didn’t see this coming and I can’t fix it. But we’ll get through it. Now, why don’t you go to the kitchen and get yourself something to eat. I picked up a pizza on my way home. We’ll talk later.”
Nick turned on his heel. “I’m not hungry.” He snagged his jacket from the back of the chair and stalked out.
When he was gone, Rachel gave Ted a meaningful look. “What was that you were saying about the kids being fine with this?”
“They will. It’ll take some getting used to, but Nick’s tough. He’ll adjust.”
She looked briefly at the ceiling, praying for patience. “Okay, Ted. Whatever you say.” She realized she still held the legal papers in her hand. “Was there anything else you wanted to tell me about this? Like Nick, is there anything more I need to adjust to besides the fact that you want to sell the house out from under us?”
“As I said, I’ve talked to my lawyer. According to the terms of the original agreement when the practice was established, if Walt and the others are unanimous in any decision—and that includes demanding the ouster of any partner—they can do it. The only negotiable is how much they’ll agree the departing member is worth. And that’s where it all gets sticky. If I don’t accept what they offer—and I’m not about to—then I have to take them to court. Who knows how long that’ll take. Could be months. A year. I’ll need the money—” He paused, then started again. “We’ll both need income while this is ongoing. Your salary at school won’t cut it. The money’s there…once we sell the house.”
“What does Francine have to say about all this?”
“She’s shocked, naturally. She says Walter’s just doing it to hurt her.”
“He’s probably feeling pretty hurt himself, seeing his wife has been sleeping with a man he thought was his friend.” She waved him quiet when he started to argue and said wearily, “Never mind trying to spin what you and Francine have done as anything except the trashy thing it is, Ted. What you and I have to do now is figure out what to do to survive this disaster and to help our children.” She gestured with the papers. “First of all, I hope there’s some place in the
fine print here that establishes a regular income to the kids and me while you pursue this lawsuit.”
“There is, but it’s not enough to maintain this house and all the other perks of our current lifestyle.”
“You’re planning to stay in the cabin at the lake, I assume.”
He nodded. “For the time being.”
“We could sell that, I suppose,” she said, looking beyond him at nothing in particular as she considered various possibilities.
“There’s one obvious solution that will take care of everything,” Ted said. Something in his tone caught her attention, but he turned away and, with his back to her, tossed off the rest of his drink.
“And what would that be?” she asked.
“You and the kids could move in with Dinah.”
“Excuse me?”
“It’s the logical thing to do, Rachel.” He tipped the bottle and poured himself a fresh drink. “Now that Dinah’s out of her apartment and settled into her new house, I bet she’ll be happy to have you and the kids for a visit.”
“A visit.”
Hearing her lack of enthusiasm, he made an impatient sound. “It won’t be forever, goddamn it! Just phone her and see what she says before you blow off the idea. That’s all I’m saying.”
“It’s an imposition, Ted. Think about it. She’s a widow in her sixties. She isn’t used to young children. It’s too much to ask.”
“Explain the problem. She’ll understand.”
She stood looking at him, wondering at his audacity. “You’re really serious about this,” she remarked.
“Yeah.”
“And is it really only a separation, Ted? Or have you decided you want a divorce?”
“The only thing I’ve decided is that I want to be with Francine right now. I don’t know where that’ll go.” He brought the drink up, then set it down again. “It’s Walter who’s caused all this trouble, Rachel. He’s being a first-class son of a bitch.”
She stared. “Walter.”