Читать книгу In Confidence - Karen Young - Страница 11

“Dad, Mom, what was that all about?” Nick demanded in bewilderment. “I heard the commotion and when I get downstairs I find my dad and his partner at fist city! Jeez.”

“It’s nothing,” Ted said curtly, tearing a paper towel from a roll behind the bar. “Go on back upstairs.”

He dampened the towel and pressed it to his nose, unaware of a cut near his eye, which Rachel could see beginning to swell. Walter’s first blow got him square on his nose, but he must have landed a blow that glanced high off the cheekbone. He’d have a shiner soon that wouldn’t fade before Monday, when he’d have to show his face at the practice. She wondered how he’d explain it to the staff.

“Go upstairs?” Hands propped on his hips, Nick stared at his father. “You’re kidding, right? You were in a fight, Dad. A real knock-down, drag-out with Dr. Walt. Jeez, he’s supposed to be your best friend.”

“Nick—” Rachel began, but he wasn’t finished.

“The coffee table is smashed,” the boy said, waving an arm at the desecration in the room, “you’ve got a busted nose and a shiner, and you say it’s nothing? I don’t think so.”

“It’s personal,” Ted said, talking through the towel. “I’ll explain later.”

Nick made a disgusted sound and turned to his mother. “What did Dr. Walt mean, that Francine would never belong to Dad?”

“Nick—” She put out a hand and felt something twist near her heart. “I’m sorry you had to see this. I don’t think—”

“Is Dad having an affair with Francine?” Nick’s face was pale, but his eyes burned.

Rachel looked at Ted. “Now is not the time for this discussion,” Ted said, grimacing at the bloodstains on the towel. “I can’t believe this! I’ve probably got a broken nose.”

“That’s it, isn’t it, Mom?” Nick persisted. “He’s screwing Francine.”

“Nick, please…” Rachel caught his hand and tried to guide him over to the settee. “You know we don’t allow that language. Sit down and I’ll try to explain.” But Nick stayed stiffly on his feet, glaring at his father. No one noticed Kendall standing in the doorway until she spoke.

“I want to hear, too.”

All eyes went to the little girl looking sweetly innocent in a nightie sprinkled with a pattern of tiny red hearts. Bunny faces on her bedroom slippers peeked from beneath the ruffle at the bottom and her camera hung by a cord around her neck. Gingerly avoiding the glass on the floor, she went to her mother. “I heard someone banging on the door and I wanted my camera, but it took a minute to find it. Then Dr. Walt started yelling, all mad and everything. I almost didn’t remember to take pictures when him and Daddy started to fight, but then I did. Why were they fighting?”

“You took pictures?” Rachel said faintly.

Kendall nodded, then looked at her dad. “So why were you and Dr. Walt mad at each other, Daddy?”

Rachel slipped an arm around the little girl’s waist and gave Ted another compelling look.

“I’m going to have to take care of this bleeding,” he mumbled. Face down, he ducked past his family. “Sorry.”

“I’m right, huh, Mom?” Nick persisted as Ted escaped. “He’s fooling around with Francine.”

Rachel took one of each of her children’s hands and paused for a moment, praying that she’d be able to tell them what was necessary in a way that would do them the least harm. “Sometimes,” she began, “people who are married to each other discover that even though they have many good things together, such as wonderful children and a lovely house and good jobs, that somehow they need something different. A change, maybe. Your…your dad—” she cleared her throat as it threatened to close “—your dad is experiencing something like that.”

“So the something different Dad needed,” Nick said, cutting to the chase as always, “was an affair with his best friend’s wife? Have I got it right?”

Rachel closed her eyes in momentary pain. “It…it appears that…he and Francine are involved, yes. At the moment.”

“What a dumb shit!” Nick stood up abruptly. He hadn’t put on a shirt before heading downstairs, so he wore only the bottoms of his Joe Boxer shorts. His sleek young torso heaved with emotion. Arms stiff at his sides, he clenched both hands into fists, working them open and closed. “Dr. Walt should have done more than coldcock him one. What he should have done—”

“Nick.” Rachel held up her hand. “It might feel good to rant and rave at your dad for the moment, but he is, and always will be, your father.”

“He’s sure acting like a piss-poor one, then,” the boy said bitterly.

“I don’t understand,” Kendall said, her small brow wrinkled in confusion. “What’s Daddy doing that’s wrong?”

“He’s fooling around with Dr. Walt’s wife, brat. That’s a big no-no.”

“It’s not okay for Daddy to be friends with Ms. Francine?” Kendall looked in bewilderment first at Rachel, then at Nick.

“They’re more than friends, Kendy,” Nick said, softening his tone.

“Dad and Ms. Francine have special feelings for each other,” Rachel explained. “They want to be together…like Nick says…as more than friends.”

“But what about you if they want to be together like that?” Kendall asked, her frown returning.

“Dad has decided that he wants some time to live apart from me right now, Kendall. He’ll probably move to our cabin on the lake, so he won’t be here with us like he has been.”

Kendall’s eyes widened. “He’s going to sleep there and eat and…and everything?”

“For the time being, yes,” Rachel said, nodding. “But he’ll be close by when you want to see him. The cabin is only an hour from Rose Hill. It’s just that he won’t be living in this house.”

Kendall studied her mother’s face for a long moment. “Are we getting a divorce?”

Rachel brought the little girl’s hand up to her cheek. “Who said anything about a divorce, sweetheart?”

Kendy looked worried. “But you won’t, will you, Mom? I have friends who’re divorced and it’s not good.”

How Rachel wished she could make that promise. “I don’t think your dad is going to move to Dallas or any place other than Rose Hill, Kendy,” she said, trying to sound reassuring. “His practice is here and he won’t be leaving that. So even though he’s living at the lake, he’s still here for you when you need him.”

“Yeah,” Nick muttered, glancing at the door where Ted had escaped. Then he added in a tone not overheard by his little sister, “Just don’t count on him when the going gets tough.”

“Francine? He’s having an affair with the wife of his partner?” Marta stood up and began pacing the length of the sunroom. “Has he lost his freakin’ mind? Walter Dalton will kill him!”

“He came close to it this morning,” Rachel muttered dryly.

Marta stopped. “What? Walter knows?”

Rachel sat with her arms wrapped around her knees. “He appeared before seven today, not ten minutes after Ted, who’d spent the night at the lake cabin. And you’re right. He was so furious when Ted didn’t deny the affair that he lost it, Marta. One minute he was hurling threats and insults and the next, he was at Ted’s throat, literally. If Nick hadn’t appeared just then and helped break them up, I don’t know how the fracas would have ended.”

Marta motioned toward the coffee table. “Is that why you have a coffee table with no top?”

“Glass went everywhere. They were like two schoolboys, Marta. It was dreadful. And to have Nick and Kendall see it all made it ten times worse.”

“They fought in front of the kids?”

Rachel sighed. “Kendall took pictures. You know she carries that camera everywhere she goes.”

“Oh, boy.”

Rachel rested her cheek on her knees, looking beyond Marta to her beautifully landscaped yard. “I had no choice but to tell them, Marta. Or, at least, I had to try to give them some kind of explanation once they saw what happened between Ted and Walt, plus they heard what Walt said. I’m not sure they’re convinced things are as dire as they really are, but personally, I believe Ted’s serious.”

“Classic male midlife crisis,” Marta muttered with disgust. “Or just your basic male propensity to cheat.” Marta, who had been engaged several years ago to a cop, had walked into his apartment unexpectedly one day and found him with his partner, a pretty brunette rookie fresh out of the police academy. She’d immediately broken the engagement and in less than six months had married Jorge Ruiz, a quiet, mild-mannered music teacher at RHH, who’d died of Hodgkin’s disease eighteen months later.

“Whatever you call it,” Rachel said, “he’s definitely infatuated with Francine right now, so much so that he seems blind to what it ultimately means to his children.”

“Or to you.”

“That, too.”

“What are you going to do?”

She shrugged. “What can I do? I think I owe it to the kids not to do anything rash just yet.”

“You mean in case he changes his mind and decides to let you forgive him and y’all just pick up where you left off?”

“I guess I’d be a dope to do that. You certainly didn’t give Pete a second chance.”

“Ted’s the dope, not you,” Marta said. “And Pete didn’t ask for a second chance, not that I would have considered it for one minute.” She reached over and patted Rachel’s knee. “I know you’re hurt and in a state of shock right now, Ray, but for too many years Ted’s been a selfish, narcissistic bastard—pardon me, but it’s true. You’ve spoiled him rotten.”

“Now you sound like my mother.”

“An astute woman. At least she’s never looked at Ted through rose-colored glasses.”

“The feeling was mutual,” Rachel said, thinking of the tension that had existed between the two for years. It had been difficult, as she’d felt pulled in opposite directions. “Mom and Ted are almost always disagreeing over something.”

“The miracle is that Ted’s found someone else willing to put up with his ego. I give it six months, max.” Marta straddled a chair and folded her arms on the back. “Can we assume this is the first time he’s cheated?”

That thought had been on Rachel’s mind ever since the scene in the Dallas restaurant. “I’m not sure,” she murmured, recalling the sexy, young workout coach Ted had been very friendly with at their club a few years ago. Rachel, whose weight had crept up a bit, had talked Ted into enrolling as they both needed more exercise. Kendall had been entering preschool and Rachel had been run ragged trying to juggle her responsibilities managing Ted and Walt’s practice and caring for the kids. Ted had admired cute little Wendy from the start, and although Rachel did whittle down to a size eight, Ted had thrown himself into the fitness program a hundred and ten percent. After six months, he was as buff as a college boy. Without admitting to herself that he showed more interest in Wendy than was appropriate, Rachel had concentrated on giving him extra attention. She’d planned special outings, a five-day cruise, a surprise birthday party for him, an intimate candlelight dinner on their anniversary.

Then Wendy had moved to Denver.

But what if Wendy hadn’t moved? she wondered now. Had she failed to heed signs that he didn’t hold his vows to be as sacred as she did? Had she closed her eyes to Ted’s true character then? Had circumstances alone saved the day when Wendy left town?

Marta took a sip of cola. “If the kids know, there’s no way you can keep this from your mom,” she said, adding dryly, “I’d love to hear her take on the situation. Dinah’s gonna want to hang him by his cheatin’ balls.”

“I know.” Rachel sighed and glanced at her watch. “Kendall has a soccer game at two, then the whole team’s going somewhere for Amy Milton’s birthday. As soon as the game’s over, I’ll stop by and tell her. I need to check on her, anyway, but I’ll have to do it after Kendall’s game. No chance of Ted showing up for that. As for telling Mom, best just to get it over with. I can imagine her reaction and it won’t be pretty.” Lifting her hand, she studied the wedding ring on her finger somberly. “I wish there was some way to avoid having the world know what’s happened, Marta. It’s painful and humiliating for me, but it’s going to be worse for Nick and Kendall. I see kids at school coping with the breakup of their parents’ marriage. The reaction of their peers is not always sympathetic. I hate subjecting Nick and Kendall to that.”

“It’ll be rocky at first, sure. But they’re tough, Rachel, and your relationship with them is great. Plus, you’re strong, and you’ll need that strength now. You’ll come through this well, whether your marriage survives or not. As for the kids, there’ll be as much moral support from their friends as otherwise. Even more. For the others—” she finished her drink and stood up “—when shitty people speak, just consider the source. The worst thing is, it’s all Ted’s doing and he’ll be distanced from a lot of the fallout living at the lake, the rat. Not fair, but that’s the way real life works.” She grabbed her keys, leaned over and gave Rachel a kiss on the cheek. “Call me if you need me.”

Cam seldom took a break for lunch as it tended to break his concentration, but he’d been interrupted this morning by a call from his agent, Ben Eckstein, who was hot to start negotiations for a new contract. Nothing distracted Cam like contract negotiations. So, after firmly quelling Ben’s enthusiasm—and failing to pick up after Ben had interrupted—he remembered he hadn’t eaten the night before, so he wandered into the kitchen and made himself a sandwich. He was standing on his back porch eating it when he saw the kid leave Dinah Hunt’s patio and start across the lawn.

The boy was lean and lanky, in his mid-teens, Cam guessed, feeling a catch in his chest. Looked athletic, too, moving with an easy gait in spite of the fact that he hadn’t yet grown into those long limbs and big hands and feet. A lot like Jack. And just about Jack’s age when—

Dark memories instantly killed his appetite and he tossed the sandwich, food for the squirrels. Standing motionless, he watched the kid step around Dinah’s newly planted herb garden, then move through the thick growth of azaleas that separated the boundaries of her property and his own. Her grandson, Rachel’s boy? No sign of a car in the driveway, so apparently it took more for Rachel to find a moment for visiting her mother than a brief collapse in the garden.

As the kid drew closer, he tried to come up with a name. Dinah had mentioned it. Nick. Yeah, Nick. And no mistake about it, he thought with a scowl, the kid was heading straight for his porch.

“’Scuse me, sir.” He stood looking at Cam, hesitant and polite. But determined.

Shit. It was too late to turn on his heel and go inside. “Nick, right?”

“Yes, sir.” The boy ventured closer, stopped at the bottom step. Dark hair like his mother’s and those same odd gold eyes, Cam noted. “Dinah Hunt is my grandmother.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Nick glanced down at his feet, as if to gather his thoughts. Or courage. Then he looked back up at Cam. “My mom told me how you happened to see Gran when she fainted yesterday and that you took her to the hospital. I just wanted to come over and thank you for doing that.”

“No need.” Cam took a couple of steps down to bring himself more in line with the boy. While inside, the memory of Jack was as heavy as lead, only a robot would be unmoved by the appeal in the boy’s face. “It was sheer luck that I happened to be out when it happened. You would have done the same. Anyone would.”

“Maybe. But I just wanted to, you know, say thanks. I mean, I know my mom was grateful. And Gran, too, of course.” Fiddling with a smooth stone he’d picked up, he gazed at his grandmother’s house a moment before turning back to Cam. “And I need to ask you a favor.”

Ah, Jesus, what now? Warily, Cam braced himself. He was promising nothing. “A favor?”

“Yes, sir.” Nick tossed the stone. “My mom…she’s got a lot of things on her mind lately. She’s a guidance counselor at RHHS. I don’t know if you knew that, but—”

“I knew.”

“Well, a lot of kids sort of rely on her when they get in trouble or have personal problems and stuff.” He shrugged. “Not that she complains. She says it comes with the territory, but it can get so that she doesn’t have a lot of time left over for—”

“For her mother?”

He gave Cam a startled look. “No, sir. Well, not exactly. Gran’s pretty independent about that. Doesn’t want any advice most of the time.” He hesitated, then went on. “What I mean about my mom is she doesn’t have much time left over for anyone, not even herself. And if she did, she wouldn’t do much for herself, anyway. She’d be thinking of Kendy or me or…or Dad. Gran, too.” He paused, watching a squirrel eyeing the tossed sandwich. “And my dad, he’s…ah, kind of…I guess you could say…preoccupied right now.”

“Preoccupied.”

“It’s a long story.” Nick shifted so that he faced Cam squarely. “Anyway, Mom’s going to be really maxed out for some time because of this, uh, personal stuff that’s come up.” He paused and then went on in a rush, “And so the favor I had in mind was this. If you could just sort of keep an eye on Gran when Mom isn’t around—or me—it would mean a lot.”

“Does your Gran know about this?”

“You mean that I’m asking you to keep an eye on her? Jeez, no! She’d kill me. She’d come after me with my own bat. Mom, too. Anyway, Gran doesn’t think she needs any help, but where would she have been yesterday if you hadn’t just lucked out and happened to see her faint?”

She would have come around in a few minutes and fixed herself something to eat, Cam thought. And it would have taught her a lesson. But then again, if it had been the heart attack he’d feared at the time, then this boy’s concern was well placed. “It isn’t necessary to ask me to keep an eye on your grandmother, Nick,” he said. “After what happened, I was planning on it. Within reason. But just so you’ll know, I’m a writer and I often get caught up in what I’m doing and lose track of time. You can’t depend on me exclusively.”

“Yes, sir, I understand that. I’ll be checking on her myself. A lot.”

They both watched the squirrel scamper across the ground and up into a tree, carrying a piece of Cam’s sandwich. “Speaking of bats,” Cam said, “do you play sports?”

“Yes, sir, baseball.” He propped a foot on the bottom step. “I started with T-ball when I was six and I’ve been playing ever since.”

“What’s your position?”

“First base. For the B team, right now. I mean, I’m in the ninth grade and I won’t have a shot at varsity till next year. Maybe not even then, but by eleventh I should be in.” At ease now, Nick slid his hands into his hip pockets, comfortable talking about a subject he knew well. “Now, my buddy, Ward—Ward Rivers—he’s real good. He’s a pitcher. He might even get a shot at varsity this year, he’s so good. His brother Jimbo’s five years older and he got a scholarship to play for UT.”

He knew him. Jimbo Rivers had been a pallbearer at Jack’s funeral. “I’ve heard of him,” Cam said.

“Well, Coach told us he’ll probably be tapped by one of the majors at the end of this season. Is that cool or what?”

Yeah, cool. Cam clenched his jaw hard. His chest actually hurt, deep down where he kept a lock on everything that made him think of Jack. “The coach would be Monk Tyson,” he said.

“Yes, sir. You know him?”

“We’ve met.”

Nick nodded. “He’s put a lot of athletes into the majors. I mean, they play college sports and then move right on up to the big leagues.”

“Remarkable for a small town like Rose Hill,” Cam said.

“That’s what everybody says. Well…I need to get back. I didn’t tell Gran where I was headed and she’ll be breakin’ out the blueberry muffins any minute now.” He flashed a quick grin. “She likes to push food at me when I come and I’m sure not complaining. You should try her pecan pie. Man, it’s to die for!” He hesitated, then stepped forward and stuck out his hand. “Thanks, Mr. Ford.”

Drawing a deep breath, Cam took the boy’s hand. Bony, young, strong. Like Jack’s. “Cam, not Mr. Ford. And, like I said, don’t rely on me exclusively regarding your gran.”

“Yes, sir. I mean, no, sir, I won’t.” He started off, but then stopped and looked back. “If you notice anything that me or Mom should know about, will you let us know?”

“Yeah, I’ll do that.”