In Confidence. Karen Young
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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