The End of Forever (20 page)

“I don’t want anything. I have to go.” She tried
to step around him, but he dodged in front of her, pulled a balloon from his pocket, and proceeded to blow it up.

“I’m really a nice guy,” he said between puffs of air. “Kids and dogs are nuts about me. I’m gonna make you a dachshund out of this balloon to prove it.” He twisted the balloon into shape. “Don’t look so surprised. See, at heart, I’m really a clown.”

In that instant Erin knew exactly where she’d seen David Devlin before.

“You didn’t recognize him until he said the word ‘clown’?” Dr. Richardson asked, tapping her pencil on the side of her notepad. “Why not?”

“The first time we met, we were both wearing full clown makeup. White greasepaint, fake noses, wigs, big sloppy costumes—there’s no way I could have known who he was when he auditioned for the play. When we performed at the Children’s Home together last Easter, I didn’t even know his last name.” Erin was relieved and elated that she’d solved the mystery of why David made her feel uncomfortable. “I guess that I disliked him because he reminds me of when Amy was in the hospital.”

“A lot of things must remind you of Amy. But not everything that reminds you gives you a headache.”

Erin fidgeted in the chair. She was so sure she’d hit on the solution to her headaches generated by David. “I was just making an observation,” she said testily.

“Did you tell David about meeting him before?”

“Oh, no,” Erin said. “I don’t want him to know.”

“Why?”

“I’d feel stupid talking about it. He didn’t know Amy. And I’ll never be a clown again. So why bring it up?”

Dr. Richardson pushed away from her desk and sat back in her chair. “Do you know what a support group is, Erin?”

“It’s a group of people who have something in common. Theres a support group at Briarwood for girls with divorced parents, and they meet once a week.”

“I oversee a grief support group for young people who’ve lost a parent or a sibling or even a friend.”

“So?”

“I’d like you to meet with us.”

“I meet with
you.”

“You’d continue to meet with me, but you’d also meet with them. We gather in my conference room on Friday nights.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Why?”

“I’m pretty busy already. Between school and dance classes and now the play, I don’t have much free time. If I have any, I work in Mom’s store.”

“You could make time.”

“I really don’t want to come.” Dr. Richardson looked at her expectantly, so Erin continued. “I don’t want to sit around with a bunch of strangers and talk about Amy.”

“Talking often helps—both you and the others. It helps you realize that you’re not alone, that other
people have been through the same thing and feel similar emotions.”

“No one feels like I do. And talking won’t bring Amy back.”

“But facing your feelings can help
you.”

Erin wanted to scream. Why did the counselor keep firing dumb suggestions at her? “Look, I need to cut today short. I’ve got lots of homework tonight.” She stood. “I thought you’d be glad that I figured out why I didn’t like David.”

“I’m not sure that’s all of it.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think there’s a deeper reason why you feel uncomfortable around this boy.”

“Like what?”

“We’re looking for the answers together, aren’t we?”

“In other words, you want me to figure it out on my own,” Erin said. If Dr. Richardson knew what was wrong, why wouldn’t she tell her?

“Please consider coming to the support group.”

“I said I was too busy.” She stood and crossed to the door. “I’ve got play practice too, so I gotta go now.”

The therapist picked up her appointment pad. “I’ll put you down for next week,” she said.

Erin nodded, but deep down she doubted she’d make the appointment. She was tired of talking about the past, and so far nothing much had changed. She still got headaches. And now, with the counselor pressuring her to come and spill her
guts in front of a bunch of strangers … Why would she talk to strangers about things she couldn’t even discuss with her own parents?

Friday night after rehearsal some of the cast went out for pizza, and Shara all but dragged Erin along. At the pizza parlor six of them squeezed into a booth. Wedged between David and Andy, Erin grimaced at Shara on the other side of the dimly lit table. The aroma of tomato sauce and cheese made Erin’s stomach growl. “And you said you weren’t hungry,” David joked.

“I said I didn’t want to come,” Erin corrected. A part of Erin really wanted to be there, but a part of her felt cut off and distanced from the others. It made no sense to her. “I’ve got to work at my mom’s boutique tomorrow.”

“So what?” Seth asked. “Do you turn into a pumpkin at midnight?”

The others laughed, and Erin felt her face flush.

“I’ve got a show to do, but I can’t let a small detail like being up at seven
A.M
. deter me from pizza,” David offered, drawing the attention away from Erin.

“Where?” Seth wanted to know. “Maybe we’ll drop by and throw tomatoes.”

David flipped water on him from his water glass. “I wouldn’t notice even if you did. I don’t actually wake up until noon. Just ask my science teacher,” he joked.

“Lots of fun things come in the morning,” Pinky told him.

“Name three.”

“Santa Claus,” said Shara quickly.

“The Tooth Fairy,” Andy added,

“Unconfirmed,” David told him. “Many suspect she comes late at night.”

“Sunrise,” Erin said quietly, remembering how Amy used to hate getting up in the mornings too. “Sunrise comes early in the morning.” The others looked at her oddly.
How could I say such a stupid thing?
she thought.

“That can be confirmed,” David interjected hastily, as if to cover for her.

Seth cleared his throat, and the awkward moment passed when the waitress brought a pizza, still sizzling from the oven. David divided up the pie and continued with a string of stories that kept the others laughing

Erin half listened, concentrating instead on picking the mushrooms off her slice of pizza. She flicked them absently, wondering where her hunger had gone. Her stomach was knotted for some reason, and she just couldn’t eat.

“Something wrong with the food?” David asked.

“Tm just not a mushroom fanatic.”

“Not a mushroom fanatic!” David feigned horror. “But mushrooms are our friends. In fact some of my best friends are mushrooms. Consider Seth here.…”

A tiny smile curled Erin’s lip as David quickly started another conversation, this time about basketball. David did have the gift of charm and a ready wit, something shed always envied in people. Amy had been that way, she thought. She set her piece of pizza down and tuned into what Andy was saying. “ … no way, Devlin. You’ve got your hopes pinned on the wrong team. The Celtics are gonna take it all.”

“In your dreams, buddy. How could you ever pick the Celtics to come out on top? Get with it, man! You’d have to be brain dead to pick them.”

For Erin the world seemed to stop spinning, and the walls of the room closed in on her.
Brain dead.
She stood rapidly, pushing Andy out of the booth.

“Hey!” he yelped.

Erin didn’t care. She only knew she had to get out of there before she screamed. She felt as if she were running through a thick fog. She heard Shara shout, “Erin! Wait!” She even felt a hand grab at her. But she wrenched away and ran to the door. People were staring, but it didn’t matter. She had to get outside and into the cool night air.

She ran across the parking lot to her car and dug frantically through her purse.
Where are the stupid keys?
She climbed into the front seat and spilled the contents of her purse in her lap. She found them, finally, and jammed one into the ignition. She never got to turn it, though, because
someone yanked open the passenger door, jumped in, and tugged the key from the switch.

Erin turned furiously toward the intruder, David Devlin. “Go away!” she shouted. “Go away and leave me alone!”

“I mean it,” Erin said through clenched teeth. In the light from the overhead street lamp, she saw David’s tortured expression.

“I’m sorry, Erin. I—I didn’t know.”

“Didn’t know what? Give me my keys.”

“I didn’t know that you had a sister who died.”

“Who told you?” Her chin lifted defiantly.

“Shara did, the minute you ran out. All I heard her say was that your sister had been brain dead after a car wreck; then I ran out after you.”

“Sharas got a big mouth. The truth is I’m sick to my stomach.”

David reached for her, and she shoved him away. “My keys.” She held out her open palm.

“Talk to me,” he pleaded. “Tell me what happened.”

“If you don’t give me my keys and get out of this car, I’m going to start screaming.” Her hands were shaking, and tears were straining behind her eyes. Why didn’t he go away and leave her alone?

“No,” David said.

She lunged. He tossed the keys into the backseat and grabbed her wrists and pulled her toward
him. She struggled to break free, fought to hold back the tears, but she couldn’t do either. With a strangled cry the dam broke.

David held her, and she didn’t resist because the fight had gone out of her. She didn’t know how long she wept, but eventually the tears subsided, leaving her as limp as a rag doll. She fumbled in her lap for a tissue, while David stroked her hair. She eased back into her seat, but David held tightly to her right hand. “I haven’t cried like that since …” Her voice sounded raspy. She remembered the day that her parents had signed the organ-donor papers for Amy and she’d stood in the shower wearing all her clothes and cried. “ … well, for a long time.” She was embarrassed, because no one had ever seen her lose it that way.

“Are you still mad at me?” David asked.

“No, you had no way of knowing.”

David took a deep breath. “I wouldn’t have hurt you for the world, Erin. My dad always tells me that I talk too much.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Outside, people drove cars out of the lot, but Erin felt isolated and alone with David, as if they were the only two people in the world. She rolled down her window, and the night air cooled her hot, tearstained cheeks.

“Tell me about your sister,” David said. “What was her name?”

“Amy,” Erin told him. It seemed strange that he didn’t know. For years everybody she’d known had known Amy too. “She was sixteen, a sophomore at Briarwood.”

“You must miss her a lot.”

Fresh tears came up, but Erin blinked them away. “Yes.” David reached out and ran his thumb across her cheek. “I must look awful,” she said, sorting through the mess in her lap for her hairbrush.

“Not to me.” Without warning her heart began to thud. She glanced at him shyly. He took her hand. “I think you’re beautiful.”

She shrugged self-consciously. “You didn’t get to eat your pizza.”

“I don’t like mushrooms either.”

All at once David seemed different to her, kind and caring, not crazy and foolish. She was ashamed that she’d judged him before getting to know him. “I’d better get this stuff put away. I really do have to get home.”

“I’ll help.” He held the purse while she scooped her belongings into it. “What time do you have to be at work tomorrow?” he asked.

“Not until three o’clock,” she said, embarrassed that inside the pizza parlor she’d made it sound much earlier than that.

“Good.” David reached over into the backseat and hunted for her keys. “I’ll pick you up at ten.”

“What? But—but—”

“No ‘buts.’ ” He handed her the keys and opened the car door.

“But where are we going?”

“I have a show to do, and I want you with me. And I want to introduce you to the second-most-important woman in my life.”

“Who …?”

David got out. “Tomorrow,” he said, shutting the door and jogging back to the restaurant.

“But …” Erin said to the empty car. Slowly, thoughtfully, she started the engine and pulled out into the light flow of traffic. “The
second-most-important
woman?” she asked aloud. Did that make her the first? Erin smiled despite her confusion over David.