Count on Me (Bayview Heights Trilogy) (6 page)

Julia’s chin came up. True, she vagued out sometimes, imagining her Broadway debut or her Tony award. But she didn’t think it was that obvious. “I was here, Caruso. Every single day this week.” She gave him a condescending look that she’d copied from Liz Taylor’s old movies. “Which is more than I can say for you.” He stared at her. “You know,” she said, getting more irritated, “if we’re going to do this, you’ve got to be here.”

Something fluttered in his chocolate-colored eyes. A sadness. Now she felt bad. Problem was, Julia played so many roles, on and off the stage, she often got carried away. She hadn’t meant to hurt him She tried a Drew Barrymore smile. He opened his notebook and didn’t respond.

“You wanna go first or should I?” he asked, staring down.

“Let’s do each question together. Since they go from easy to hard.”

Ten minutes later, they got to hard. “So Ms. Actress, what’s your greatest fear?”

Julia bit her lip. Ms. Caufield had said they shouldn’t agree to do this assignment unless they planned to be honest. They’d have a chance to edit out anything too private, but part of the purpose of interviewing each other and presenting your partner to the class was to reveal things about yourself that others didn’t know.

“Jules?” Her head came up at the nickname only her closest friends used. “A tough one?”

She nodded. “You?”

“Nah, it’s easy for me.” His long hair fell onto his forehead. It was squeaky clean and looked soft as silk. “I’m afraid they’re gonna take my little brother away from me and my ma.”

“Why would they do that?”

“She leaves us alone. A lot.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shrugged. “Your turn.”

Watching closely for his reaction, she said softly, “I’m afraid for people to see the real me.”

“That why you assume so many roles?”

“In the plays, you mean?”

“In real life.”

His comment hit a nerve because she knew it was true.

“Who
is
the real you?” he asked gently.

“You got it on paper.” Her reply was flippant, accompanied by a toss of her bangs off her face.

“Nope. This is surface stuff.”

After a very long pause she sighed. “I guess I don’t know who the real me is.” She peered up at him from under thick lashes. “And if I did, maybe I wouldn’t like her.”

Just then Ashley walked by on her way back from the washroom and slapped Julia on the back. Julia was glad for the interruption and turned to say something to her friend, effectively cutting off Dan’s reply to her revelation.

Ashley spoke briefly to Julia, then sat back down, tugging at the short denim dress she wore. She covered her stomach with both hands.

“All right, we’re on number twelve,” Ashley’s partner, Teresa Lanahan, said. “What are your secret goals in life?” she asked. “Even though they might not come true.”

 My only goal right now is not to be pregnant
, Ashley thought.
Please, God, don’t let that be
. “None of what I want’s secret.”

“Let me guess. You want to marry Evan, have a dozen kids and live in Pleasantville, U.S.A.”

Teresa’s tone irritated Ashley. “Why would you say it like that?”

Teresa shrugged. “Like what?”

“So disapproving. What if I do want that?” She indicated the drab sweats Teresa wore every day like a uniform. “Not everybody wants to play for the WBA.”

Teresa’s face tensed. “I’d be satisfied with a basketball scholarship so I can play in college.”

For a moment Ashley was intrigued. What would it be like to have aspirations that had nothing to do with guys? Her mother and three sisters never had any dreams of their own, and Ashley had inherited the Emerson homemaking gene. “Won’t you get a scholarship?”

“I should.”

“Where do you want to go?”

“University of Connecticut. They got a great women’s basketball program.”

Ashley smiled thinly. Would she even be going to college? Her gaze strayed to Ms. Caufield, who was interviewing with Madison Kendrick—or Mad Maddie as the kids called her because of her tall, wild-eyed appearance and odd behavior. Would Ms. C be disappointed in Ashley if she got married and never went to college? Hell, if she was pregnant, she wouldn’t even graduate high school with her class.

Scanning the room to keep back the tears, Ashley caught Shondra’s eye. Her friend grinned, then turned back to her own partner.

Shondra yawned and Mary Kay Sorensen frowned. “Sorry,” Shondra said. “I was up late finishing college applications.”

Mary Kay gave her a meek smile back. “Where are you applying?”

 Harvard. Yale. Radcliffe
, Shondra thought. “Oh, just some nearby schools.” She fussed with the white blouse she wore with a midcalf beige skirt. “How about you?”

“State schools.” Mary Kay’s thin shoulders sagged, her drab blue dress way too big for her. “My parents can’t afford more.”

“What about scholarships?”

“I’m not smart enough. Not like you. You do everything.”

“You’re editor of the yearbook, Mary Kay.”

“Only because you couldn’t be that
and
the literary-magazine editor.

“You’re good,” Shondra said kindly. “I’m glad you got it.” She glanced down at her notes. “We’re on number fourteen...which parent are you most like?”

Mary Kay’s lips curved in a pretty smile. “That’s easy. My mom. We do everything together.”

Shondra stared at the freckle-faced redhead. Did she have any idea how lucky she was to have a mother for a best friend? Shondra’s mother was the policeman of her life, and the jailer.

 You have a reputation to uphold. You have to be the best. Because of your heritage. Be proud of it.

Ironically what the Jacobs’ ethnic pride had done to their oldest child was to make her wish she was anything but African-American.

“If I could have your attention please.”

All eyes turned toward Ms. Caufield. She looked pretty today in a hot-pink tunic and slinky black pants with high sandals. They made her an almost average height. Chunky gold adorned her ears, wrists and throat.

“You’ve done very well for the past—” she glanced at the clock “—hour.”

There were murmurs around the room; they all knew the true test of a good class was how fast the time flew.

“Let me remind you that what you’ve shared is private. Keep it to yourselves until your partner decides if she or he wants it written up in the interview.”

The kids stared at her in silence.

“I’d like to see nods of agreement, verbal promises.” That wrung a smile out of them. And some noise.

“All right.” Ms. Caufield held up a typed sheet. “This is the schedule for the volunteer placements.” “Representatives from all four organizations will be here Monday during class to talk about what positions are available. We have enough study buddies and elementary-school helpers, but the day care, and the teen clinic—” she almost stumbled over that and Shondra knew why “—have several positions open.”

“I hope I didn’t get the clinic,” Shondra heard from behind her. It was Erica. Shondra gave her a sympathetic look.

The teacher finished, “I tried to honor your requests, but if there’s a problem with your placement, I’ll see what I can do.”

Sighing, Shondra waited for the papers. She’d asked to work at a medical facility, so she’d most likely get the clinic. Where that creep who dumped Ms. Caufield worked. Damn, that was all Shondra needed. It was going to be a long semester.

o0o

KURT HADN’T BEEN in Hotshots in more than a year. Before the breakup, he’d come to the bar often with Zoe and filled in on the teachers’ team in the weekly volleyball games when staff members had meetings or were away on vacations. The drone of the TV monitors broadcasting a football game, the smell of popcorn and beer and the rumble of voices around the courts in the back were soothingly familiar; at the same time he found the memories painful. Would he ever become immune to all he’d given up?

“You okay, buddy?” Mitch asked from beside him. His brother had taken off his sweats and was stretching his leg muscles. Nearing fifty, Mitch was still in great shape.

“Just fine.” Kurt had tried to hide his depression from Mitch. Knowing his presence in their house was causing problems between the couple, he’d forced himself to put on a front.

“Bullshit. You don’t fool me. You’re dying inside.”

So much for fronts. Kurt removed the fleece jacket that he’d thrown over khaki gym shorts and a forest- green T-shirt.

 Do you have any idea what that color does to your eyes?
Zoe had asked him once.

He’d tugged her close and peered down at her.
You like?

 I like.

Show me.

He willed the memories away. It was bad enough they haunted him at night and drove him from his bedroom to prowl the house like some ghost searching for solace. Four times now, because he was already up, he’d gotten to Camille before Cassie awoke, given the baby a bottle and rocked her back to sleep.

“I’m fine, big brother.” He glanced around the huge converted warehouse with its long mahogany bar, seating area and volleyball courts in the back. “I’m just not sure this is a good idea.

Mitch’s direct gaze zeroed in on him. “I wasn’t leaving you by yourself tonight.”

“I could have watched the girls.”

“That’s what baby-sitters are for.” Mitch settled on a stool. “A little exercise will do you good. Zoe and Cassie are meeting with Seth and Alex and the superintendent about the At Risk program, so they won’t be here. And we need players.”

“It’s just that I’m trying to stay out of her life.”

“Do you really think it’s possible?”

“I don’t know. I—”

“Hey, handsome, watch out.”

Reflexively Kurt turned to see a ball flying his way. He caught it and smiled at the woman who called out to him. She jogged over. “Hi, Kurt.”

“Have we met?” he asked, tossing back the ball. The woman was pretty—long blond hair, long limbs and wide eyes. She resembled Elizabeth.

“Yes, last year. I’m Barbara Sherman, school psychologist.”

They exchanged pleasantries and then were summoned to the court.

It was fun, and Kurt lost himself in the play. He let go of his worries and regrets and allowed the sport to absorb him. His team won the first game by two, and as he headed to the bar with Mitch and Barbara for a beer break, he was smiling.

His smile died faster than a flash of lightning when he caught sight of Cassie, Seth, Alex and Zoe approaching the bar.

Damn it!

Cassie spotted him first. Her head whipped around to her husband and she gave him a what-the-hell-is-he-doing-here look. Mitch drew in a deep breath. His eyes narrowed on his wife.

“What are you doing here?” Mitch directed his question to Cassie.

“I could ask him the same thing.” Her tone was frigid as she nodded to Kurt.

Mitch set his beer down carefully and straightened, ready to do battle. “You had a meeting with the superintendent. We obviously didn’t expect you to show up here.”

“It was canceled,” Seth said easily. He stepped in front of Cassie. “Finn’s son is sick, and he had to go home as soon as we got there.” Seth extended his hand to shake with Kurt, who was trying unsuccessfully to fade into the background. “Hi, Kurt.”

Kurt smiled at Seth. “Hi, everybody. Looks like you don’t need me to fill in anymore. I’ll just take off.” He placed his beer on the bar and turned to leave.

Cassie’s gaze leveled on him.

Seth shot a look at Mitch.

Alex placed his hands on Zoe’s shoulders.

And Zoe said, “No, don’t leave, Kurt. We need all the players we can get.”

“Zoe...” Cassie said.

“Cass...” Mitch said.

“New game,” someone yelled.

“Come on, Zoe, let’s warm up.” Alex tugged on her hand.

She smiled at Kurt. “Stay. I’ll be upset if you leave just because I showed up to play.”

He nodded.

Cassie stood rooted to the spot as Zoe and Alex headed for the court. “Excuse me,” she said, and with a glare at her husband, she strode toward the door. Mitch was a few steps behind her. Kurt watched as his brother caught up to his wife. Cassie’s face was flaming as she turned to him. Gently encircling her neck, Mitch drew her off to the side.

They were arguing. Over him. God, he never meant to cause trouble.

Seth touched his arm. “Come on, Kurt. Let’s play.” Torn, Kurt pushed away from the bar and followed the principal out to the court.

Cassie would have been happy to know that he was suffering for showing up here. He had to watch Zoe in her navy nylon gym shorts and Teachers Have Class T-shirt stretch and move that compact curvy body as she volleyed and reached for a ball. He also had to watch Alex Ransom’s inability to keep his hands off her.

As a ball came to Kurt and he hit it gently to Seth, who spiked it over the net, Kurt recalled a conversation he and Zoe had had about the young vice principal…

“He’s hot for you.”

“He’s a boy.”

“How old?”

“Around thirty-two.”

“Eight years’ difference. You and I are five years apart.”

“Kurt, he was my student. True, he’s grown up. Linebacker shoulders. Great hair. I—”

Playfully Kurt had tackled her onto the bed and made her confess that younger men had no appeal for her…

Well, things changed, he guessed. Though she wasn’t flirting outright with the guy, Kurt could tell they’d gotten close. He tried to keep his eyes off them.

Which was why he didn’t see her go down.

“Hold the ball,” Seth shouted, as Zoe felt her ankle give way and she hit the floor flat smack on her rump. Pain shot from her foot to her extremities. “Ohh…”

Alex got to her first. “Are you all right?”

She struggled for air, and her skin got clammy from the pain. She heard shouting. People gathered around, then parted.

To make way for the doctor.

In a moment Kurt was squatting in front of her. “Zoe?” He grasped her wrist and placed his fingers on it. “You all right?”

The breath drained out of her. He hadn’t touched her in almost a year. The feel of his hands on her skin startled her. His head was bent, and she stared at the thick dark hair that she’d run her fingers through countless times. It smelled like the woods.