banner banner banner
In Confidence
In Confidence
Оценить:
Рейтинг: 0

Полная версия:

In Confidence

скачать книгу бесплатно


“Hey, shit happens.” Ward gave him a punch on his shoulder and Nick felt some of his rage ease. He might not be able to depend on his dad any longer, but Ward would never let him down.

They’d been playing baseball together from the time that his mom had signed him up for T-ball when he was six. Ward’s folks had been right here with him, too. And from the beginning, both had felt real passion for the game and a strong desire to win. After a loss, both would agonize over what had gone wrong, where had they messed up, how they could avoid it next time, and what each needed to do to get just that tiny edge that made the difference between winning and losing.

And both had watched Ward’s brother, Jimbo, do the ultimate—after getting a scholarship at UT, he’d snagged a contract with one of the majors.

With a sigh, Nick opened his locker again to get his shirt. He could have ended his own chances of playing for Coach Monk when he went for Ferdy that way. He owed Jason Pate and Ward for stepping in. Coach would have shit a brick if he’d seen it. But, damn it all, it was embarrassing for Jason to overhear what Ferdy said.

Nick shook out his T-shirt, getting ready to put it on, when Coach Monk appeared from the area of the senior lockers. Nick and Ward were instantly at attention. “You were lookin’ good out there this afternoon, Ward-boy,” he said, clamping a large hand on the boy’s bare shoulder. “You want to spend some quality time perfecting your curve ball, son. It’s breakin’ a little short.”

“Yes, sir. I will.”

“I’ve got some time tomorrow, so plan to stay late. With me spotting, we’ll correct the problem.”

Ward managed to contain his grin. “Yes, sir,” he said, and quickly pulled his shirt over his head.

“So, Nick,” Coach turned, folding his arms across his chest, “I like the way you’ve been shaping up at first lately. ’Course, you had an off day today, but it happens. Yesterday, two doubles in one inning. That’s good—” he was nodding “—very good. Plan to come tomorrow with Ward and we’ll work out a couple of plays. The two of you make a solid pair, Ward pitching and you at first.”

“Thanks, Coach.”

“Hang in there.”

“I plan on that, sir.”

Then, leaning against the closed lockers, the coach sobered. “I heard about your folks, Nick. Too bad about that. It’s tough.”

Extremely embarrassed, Nick looked at his feet. “Yes, sir,” he mumbled.

Tyson pushed away from the lockers and reached out to grip Nick’s shoulder in a gesture of gruff sympathy. “Hey, it’s one of those things, son. You don’t want to think you’re one of a kind there, no way. You ask around, you’ll find a quarter of the kids in the school been through the same thing.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Your mom and I spoke about it this morning,” he said.

Nick looked up, startled.

“Yeah. I promised her I’d find time to talk if you want.”

“That’s okay, Coach,” Nick said, mortified. “I’m okay. Honest.”

“Well…” Smiling, Tyson stepped back. “If you need a friend—besides Ward here,” he laughed heartily, “you know all you have to do is knock on my door.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now, you two finish dressing and get your butts outta here. Practice is over, it’s chow time.”

Both boys were motionless, watching the coach head out past the shelves of neatly-stacked sports equipment. Just then, Jason emerged from the lockers, and when Tyson spotted him, he motioned him over and slung his arm around the quarterback’s shoulder. Coach had a way of bonding with his athletes that paid off big time for them. Sportswise, he’d put Rose Hill High and the Mustangs on the map in Texas, and that was saying something, considering the size of the town and the passion that infused high school sports in the state. In a moment, three more varsity players appeared and fell into step with Jason and the coach. Like Jimbo and others before them, the four made up the core elite of the Mustangs, and with the magic of Monk Tyson’s coaching setting the stage—barring any accidents or injuries—all were destined for outstanding careers in sports. Just like Jimbo.

“Jeezum-pete,” Ward breathed as the group moved along with the coach like a god in their midst. “What do you make of special attention from The Man himself?”

Grimly, Nick pulled his shirt over his head, then grabbed his glove and stuffed it inside his gym bag. “I don’t know.”

Hearing something in his voice, Ward turned. “What’s wrong?”

“Can you believe my mom?” he asked, zipping the gym bag with a vengeance. “Coach’ll think I’m some kind of chickenshit weakling, like I need somebody to hold my hand and tell me everything’s gonna be all right now that my dad’s walked out on us.”

“Aw, I think you’ve got him wrong, Nick. He’s just being, you know, nice. Like, some of the guys here are closer to Coach Monk than to their own dads…those guys he’s talking to now, f’r instance. He was probably just paving the way if you should need, you know, help…or something.”

Nick straightened up and looked at him. “Do I look like I need help?”

Ward shrugged. “Maybe not that kind of help. But he’s offering to coach us, like privately, so I don’t know about you, man, but me—just name the time and place and I’m there.”

Standing with his gym bag in his hand, Nick eyed Coach’s chosen few with a mix of awe for their talent and envy for their good luck in being part of a tight circle. All were older than Nick and Ward—juniors and seniors mostly. It would be tough to penetrate that clique, Nick thought, but Ward was right. Coach had opened a door just now and he wasn’t about to refuse. The trouble with his mom and dad made him feel pretty rotten, but he couldn’t do anything about it. Grown-ups were going to do what they were going to do and what he thought didn’t count. He didn’t have control over anything in his life anymore except here at school. Making varsity next year—a year earlier than ninety-nine percent of high school athletes—was a hard goal, but with Coach Monk’s help, he was going to bust his butt to do it.

Nick slung the gym bag onto his shoulder. “Let’s go, Ward. You heard Coach. It’s chow time and I’m hungry.”

It would have been easy for Rachel to slack off at her job because of the meltdown in her personal life, but she’d learned a lesson when she’d failed to sense Jack Ford’s despair and a young life had ended tragically. As much as she’d like to take a leave of absence and devote herself to the care and comfort of her own children as her family tried to adjust to the change in their lives, there were kids at Rose Hill High whose needs were just as urgent. Jason Pate, to name one.

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 or 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.