I'm back in the locker room when my cellphone rings, and I look, my heart stopping when I see Whitney's caller ID. "Hello. Whitney?"
"Troy. Please don't send flowers. In fact, don't send anything. Please don't make this more painful than it is already."
I sag onto the seat in front of my locker, trying to contain myself. "Whitney, don't cut me off. I lo—"
The phone goes dead in my ear, and I’m tempted to try and see if my phone can break via hurling it into the concrete wall at the back of my locker, but I restrain myself when Coach comes by my locker. "Great practice out there, Troy. Defensive meeting in twenty minutes."
"Yeah . . . thanks, Coach," I rasp, trying not to lose my composure. "I'll be there."
He gives me a questioning look, and I wave it off. "Personal stuff, that's all. I'll be there."
Coach nods. "Okay. If you need to talk to anyone, my door's open. Twenty minutes."
He leaves, and I think. I need to talk to someone, and I turn to an old friend. Hitting my speed dial, I hope she's available. "Hello?"
"Dani, it's Troy. Got a minute?"
"For my second favorite guy in the world? Yes, I do," Dani says, and my mood lifts just slightly. "How's J-ville?"
"Warm and sunny," I reply. "You'd love it here."
"Well, you get me tickets sometime, and me and Pete will be there. How's things on the professional front?"
"Good, but that's not why I'm calling. You're like a shrink, right?"
"Not quite, but I have been accused of being a decent listener," Dani says. "Things not going well?"
"Whit just hung up on me. I sent her some flowers, and I guess the florist just got them delivered. She—she sounded so cold. I need some advice."
Dani's silent on the other end for nearly a minute, then she sighs. "You two . . . I swear, the only reason you two have had any chance at all in your relationship is because I've been around to play buffer between all of your screw-ups. First, her worries about you playing her before you two even date, then covering for that trip to the woods that ends up producing Laurie, being a friend to you both . . . I should be getting paid for this!"
"You want my paycheck, just ask," I miserably reply, resting my head in my free hand. "Take it all. It's nothing compared to Whitney and Laurie."
"And I don't have five years to bring you guys slowly back together," Dani says. "There's a little girl who needs her daddy. Okay, Troy, I'm not going to make any promises to you, but I'll talk to her. But you have to be able to accept that the answer might not be what you want.”
"I can't do that. I won’t do that.”
"You may have to. In the short term, however, harness your feelings. I remember the game when Whitney left us. You put it on that field, and even if she didn't see it, you wrote a love song in sweat, blood and touchdowns. It helped you survive the darkest days right afterward too. Do it again. Do it again, and I'll see what I can do."
"Emotional content," I sigh, and I hear Dani chuckle. We've talked. She knows what I'm talking about and doesn’t think I’m losing my mind.
"Emotional content. Keep your head up, Troy. I'm looking forward to seeing you play next Sunday. Pete's even bought Sunday tickets for it, so you better do good or else we just pissed away a hundred bucks."
"Send me the bill."
"Nah," Dani says, forcing a smile in her voice. "You pay me back by being the Troy Wood that I love and call my friend."
"Five minutes, defense!" a voice behind me calls, and I run my hand through my hair.
"Sorry, that's my signal. Gotta go back to work. Dani, thanks."
Chapter 25
Whitney
It feels strange, I think, as I pull into my parking slot in front of the gallery. It's been a month since Troy left, but every day, I wake up and the first thing on my mind is wondering if he’s doing well. I've lost count of the number of times I've had to pull my hand back from calling him, and I've even thought of getting a new phone and number, one that doesn't have his number programmed into it. I just can’t muster the courage to do that or to press the delete button.
It's not that Troy has reached out again since I cut him off so viciously after he sent the roses. Troy is a man of honor, and not at all like his father. I told him to stop, and he did. His father, meanwhile, was arraigned and is awaiting trial in county jail, and I figure this time, he'll go down for a multi-year stretch. He's a two-time loser at least, and when the District Attorney approached me about it, he said that he was so confident in the case that he didn't even need Troy's testimony. The statement, combined with my testimony and the video, would be more than enough. I'm not sure if I'm ready to go to a trial, and I hope Randall Wood pleads guilty, if for no other reason than to spare Troy a trip back home.
Not that he's totally left Silver Lake Falls behind—far from it. Everyone I see, all my old friends seem to treat it as if Troy is like a sailor in the Navy, off on a temporary cruise before coming back home. Maybe there is more truth to that than I'd like to admit, I know. I know that inside, I'm falling apart, and this time, I don't know who I can turn to in order to gain strength.
I sigh and shut off the engine, going inside the gallery. Colette is there by herself, helping out her mother in the family business while her mother goes on a shopping trip for more art. "Good morning.”
Colette, who is also single now after having broken up with her boyfriend, looks up with pity in her eyes, which is just too much. Cheery false optimism, I can take. Outright delusion, I can take. But pity? That's just too damn much. "What?"
"Nothing," she says, turning away. Her turned back makes me even angrier, and I jerk my jacket off.
"No, it's not nothing. If you’ve got something to say, say it. I'm not made of porcelain, you know."
“Maybe, but I'm getting a little tired of you moping around or going off in highly pissed off levels of anger," Colette says, turning back to me. "You're not the only one who's had breakups before, you know. Yeah, maybe Troy left you, but—"
"He didn't leave me!" I yell, losing my temper. "I left him. I don’t want Laurie raised like some sort of football gypsy."
"Whatever," she says, turning back to her computer. "Just get your act together, all right? There's a new order in, and they want to come in and take a look at those woodcuts we've got in stock for a new bed and breakfast they want to open. Think you can do that without going off on them?"
"Fine," I say, my anger deflating as quickly as it swelled. "Sorry."
"I know. You'll get through it."
I’m about to reply when my phone rings, and I pull it out, seeing that it’s Laurie's school. "Just a second, it's the school. She must have forgotten her snack again. Hello?"
"Hello, Miss Nelson? It's Candace Lippincourt, Laurie's teacher."
"Of course, Candace, how can I help you?" I ask, putting on my best friendly mother voice. "Is everything all right?"
"Unfortunately, no," Candace says. "We've had a biting incident. As you know, this is a serious violation of school rules, and since blood was drawn—"
A biting accident? ”Laurie's been bitten?" I ask, shocked. “By whom?"
"I'm afraid you don't understand, Miss Nelson. Laurie was the biter. She's stopped now, but she's in the school office. The other child we've sent for medical care, but we need you to come down as soon as you can for a parent conference."
"I'll be right there," I say, numb with shock. "Thank you."
I hang up the phone and look over at Colette, who's obviously concerned. "Laurie, um, bit someone. I need to go."
"I'll handle it. Take care of her," she says, and I’m grateful that my friend is here to help me.
I drive to Laurie's school, where I find her in the office, her arms crossed over her chest and a look of rage on her face. The school staffer in the room with her looks to be at her wit's end, and I soon understand why. "Laurie, what happened?"
Liquid, gutter-level Italian streams from her mouth as she yells out. "Ho morso la cagna! I bit the
bitch! She called me a name.”
"Laurie!" I take a deep breath to calm myself and squat down in front of her. "What did she call you, Laurie?"
"She said that I was a puppy that was abandoned!”
It's my turn to feel anger, and I turn to look at the woman. "What does the teacher say?"
"Let me get Principal Dean," the lady says, disappearing into the office. The Principal comes out, and I’m reminded that his name is Billy Dean, which I’m sure has caused him plenty of grief over the years. "Miss Nelson has some questions."
"As do we all," Principal Dean says. "Miss Nelson, perhaps we can talk in my office?"
I look at Laurie, who’s still sitting with her arms crossed over her chest, now with tears trickling from the corners of her eyes. I kneel in front of her again and take her hands. "All right, Laurie, I'm going to go talk with Mr. Dean here. Can you sit here quietly for a few minutes? Then you and I can talk about this. I promise you, I'm not angry. We just need to talk, okay?"
"Okay, Mama," Laurie says in a tiny voice, and I kiss her fingers, giving her a reassuring smile and a pat on the cheek before standing and following Mr. Dean into his office.
"Thank you, Miss Nelson. Obviously, this is a very serious situation."
"Of course. Can you tell me what was seen or heard?"
The story that emerges is totally different from what Laurie told me, and I can understand why she reverted to just Italian. According to Mr. Dean, Laurie and a classmate were playing on the swing set before school when suddenly, Laurie tackled the girl, biting her forearm hard enough to draw blood.
"What caused it?” I ask, trying to restrain my frustration.
"According to the injured girl, nothing. She says that she was just playing when Laurie threw her down and bit her. A few of her friends corroborate the claim, but we didn’t have staff or teachers at the swings at the time. Laurie hasn't been responsive to questions."
"She was responsive to me," I said icily. "She just is so angry that she's refusing to speak in English to you right now. She admits to biting the girl, saying that the little girl called her an ‘abandoned puppy’. I’m not condoning what she did, but those are some hurtful words."
Mr. Dean nods, sitting back. "They are. And, based on what I know of the little girl who got bitten, that is probably what happened. The girl is a bit of a bully with her little group of friends. However, Miss Nelson, my hands are tied."
"In what way?"
"District policy mandates that any incidence of biting that draws blood results in an automatic one-week suspension from school for a first offense. If it happens again, Laurie could be required to attend anger management therapy or even potentially be expelled. I’ll talk with the parents of the little girl."
“Okay. So I guess I need to take Laurie with me?"
Mr. Dean nods and stands up. "I understand this may be difficult for you, Miss Nelson. You're a single working mother, I'm sure that must be hard on you. But more importantly, it's hard on Laurie. May I offer some advice?"
"Please."
Mr. Dean looks out his office window at Laurie, who is still sitting rock still in the plastic chair in the reception area. "Your daughter is bright, very intelligent, and until today, a normally happy go lucky little girl who was blossoming in her time here. It's only in the past few weeks that things have started to go south, and she's obviously very unhappy. If you can, talk to her and find out what’s wrong. Maybe it’s something that can be dealt with before she becomes more withdrawn or possibly violent. Best of luck, Miss Nelson."
I shake his offered hand and leave the office, taking Laurie by the hand. "Come on, Laurie, we need to go now. Think you can hang out at work with me for the day?"
"Yeah," Laurie grumps, and she follows along, nowhere near like her normal self. At the Gallery, she plays quietly in the back, drawing pictures for most of the time with a set of colored pencils I buy from the small selection of art supplies the shop sells, as well as an extra ream of printer paper that Colette lets me use. At the end of the night, she puts the papers in her bag and we leave, going home for dinner with Mom.
"I heard about what happened at school," Mom says after dinner. Laurie's gone into the living room to watch some cartoons before bedtime, and Mom and I are cleaning up. "How do you feel about it?"
"Angry . . . frustrated . . . a little helpless," I say, setting down the glass I am washing. "How could someone call Laurie an abandoned puppy? I'd be tempted to bite them too!"
Mom nods, a ghost of a smile on her face. "You know, when I was pregnant with you, I had a lot of taunts and stuff thrown my way. I know it was a different time, but the words hurt just as much. In fact, I remember you coming home one day from school yourself, a black eye rising and your knuckles scraped after someone called you illegitimate, or a word that basically meant that."
"How'd you deal with it?" I ask, not remembering the incident at all. I must have been very young.
“The same way you are, stewing, crying when I had privacy, racking my brain about it. But I didn't have any other options. You do, you know."
"What?"
"He is her father, Whitney. And he loves her.”
My mother's words ring in my head, and I turn to her, hurt and shocked. She's trying to tell me to go back to Troy? What happened to supporting me? "You're taking his side in this? How could you?"
"I'm taking no sides, Whitney, except Laurie's. I want what’s best for her. It’s what’s best for you too. You just don’t see it.”
I set my glass down and reach for my keys. "I know you mean well, but I’m very angry at you right now. I'm going out for a drive."
I give Laurie a quick kiss on the cheek and promise her I'll be back before bedtime. I need to go get some things. It sucks to lie to my daughter, but I can't deal with this shit right this second. I get in my car and drive, knowing if anyone is going to listen to my side of things, it'll be Dani.
I'm so confused, I get lost twice getting to her house, pulling up in front of it just as the moon rises in the east, pale and glittering in the night sky. I walk up and ring the doorbell before smacking myself in the head. Why did I drive when I could have just called? What if Dani isn't home? What if she and Pete . . .
The door opens, and she’s there, a surprised but happy smile on her face. "Whitney! Come in, come in! How's your day been?"
"Not good," I admit, exchanging hugs with her. "I could use a little advice, Harley."
Dani immediately reaches back and pulls her long blonde hair into twin high ponytails, securing them with rubber bands that she had looped around her wrist. "Well then, sweetie, come on in," she says in a horrible New Jersey accent that still makes me smile. Dani has always known how to make me smile. "What's up, puddin'?"
"Do you keep those rubber bands on your wrist all the time just in case someone gives you a chance to break out that accent?" I ask as I follow her into the house. Pete's in the living room and gives me a wave before he sees the look on Dani's face and the hair, and he grabs his book, getting up to leave. "Thanks, Pete."
"Don't mention it!"
"He's a sweetheart," I tell Dani as I sit down. "You've got him trained well already."
"Nah, we just have that psychic link that old couples get—we just got it early," Dani jokes, going back to her normal voice but leaving her hair up in the ponytails. "So talk to me."
"Well, let's see. I wake up late because I slept like crap last night, rush Laurie to school and get to work only to snap at Colette for giving me a pitying look, and as soon as that's over, I get a call from the preschool."
"Oh? What happened?"
I feel my emotions start to waver, but before I can cry, Dani pulls me in for a hug and holds me for a moment. "Wait right here. I have the secret medicine to help with the blues. Just a sec."
She disappears for two minutes, actually, reappearing with twin steaming hot mugs of cocoa, the type with the little marshmallows that float on top. "Here. Nothing better for calming nerves an
d making a bad day look good."
"Is this what you give your patients?" I ask, still smiling. She's heated it up to the perfect temperature, warm enough to soothe but not too hot as to burn the roof of your mouth. I relish the flavor and find myself calming. "Seriously, it's good stuff."
"Thanks. As for your question, no, but then again, I can't prescribe drugs anyway. Gotta have an MD for that, and I'm still working on the PhD, you know. But it does work well, doesn’t it?"
"It does. But you were asking what happened. To put it simply, Laurie bit another little girl and got suspended for a week."
"Damn. Any root cause?"
"Bullying, but I've never seen Laurie react violently like that before. Especially not biting. I thought I did a good job so far of raising a little girl, not Cujo."
Dani takes a sip of her cocoa and sets her cup down. "Sounds like she's angry."
"I know. Bullying always sucks."
Dani shakes her head and picks up her cup again, drinking half of it in one long draw. "She got bullied?"
"The other girl called her abandoned, a left behind puppy," I said, shaking my head. "Then when I tell Mom, she says that it's because I left Troy! Like it's all my fault somehow!"
"So you came here in order to get, what? A second opinion? A sounding board? A friend who will tell you the truth of things?"
"I could use the truth," I say, and Dani nods again. "You don't look happy about that."
"Sometimes, Whit, the truth isn't easy to say. We've been friends for how long now?"
"Eighteen, nineteen years," I say, thinking back.
"Exactly. And in all those years, I have stood by your side, and sometimes, pushed you in directions that you weren't exactly ready for.”
"Like cheerleading."
"And good comic book characters, remember that too," Dani says before her smile disappears. "But no matter what, I've stood by you, Whitney. You're my best friend and sister, and I love you. But this isn't an easy truth to say, and you’re probably going to be angry at me."
Fourth Down Baby: A May-December Romance Page 39