The Newcomer. Робин Карр
Читать онлайн книгу.
never let anyone give our girls trouble.”
“True,” Gina said.
“After not seeing her for a couple of weeks, she finally came to dinner at our house last night. I suspect she came because she had a special request—a trip to Corvallis. She doesn’t look good, Gina.”
“I know,” Gina said in a whisper.
“She’s lost weight, I can tell she’s not eating or sleeping,” Lou said. “I’m used to the girls never shutting their mouths at the dinner table, and now... She’s really despondent.”
“How do you make a person eat and sleep? Or stop crying every night, for that matter? I can hear her and if I go to her room, she doesn’t want to talk to me.”
Lou opened her purse and took out a slip of paper. “This is the name of a counselor. Her practice is in Bandon, so it’s a ride. I’m told she has a sliding scale if your income isn’t high. Or maybe your benefits cover counseling—you’re the one to know. A friend of mine—a teacher—recommended her.”
“There’s a counselor at the high school....”
“Garvey,” Lou said sourly. “He’s a horse’s ass. Based on some of his comments, he thinks girls are stupid ninnies—a running bone of contention between us. One of my girls from eighth grade English had him as a guidance counselor her junior year and he told her and her parents that she wasn’t college material. She’s one of the smartest girls I’ve taught. I’ve seen him at school board and PTA meetings. I think he has seaweed between his ears. I think Cliff gives better advice at the Cliffhanger’s bar than Garvey does.”
Gina just kept staring at the slip of paper. “You think she needs counseling?”
“I think it would be a mistake to take a chance. Gina, I know we all want to say it’s just a teen romance, but teenagers feel things so deeply, so intensely. They’re years away from realizing how minor this is in the grand scheme of things, how much more manageable life will be when they’re just a little more mature. They can get very sick, make some very stupid mistakes, do crazy things that can’t be undone. They sometimes have suicidal thoughts.”
Gina gasped.
“Yes, they do. Sometimes it’s self-image problems, sometimes their home life is totally horrible or they’re relentlessly picked on at school, sometimes it’s depression, which can present in adolescence. And sometimes it’s love gone sour. Sometimes, sweetheart, it’s a desperate, emotional act that can’t be reversed. Take her to this woman,” Lou said, pointing at the paper. “This Simone Ross.”
“What if she doesn’t want to go?” Gina said softly.
“Don’t ask,” Lou said. “Take her.”
And then Gina’s eyes misted over. “I think this has been as hard on me as it’s been on her. My heart aches for her. I think it’s harder when your kids hurt than when you do.”
“I agree, it’s harder when it’s your kids. When Cee Jay walked out on Mac and the kids, he really took a dive. And being a man, expressing his feelings was like torture, so he sulked and got angry a lot. But I know him, I knew he was in terrible pain. I’ve been dumped a time or two, I’ve done the dumping a time or two, but watching my family go through it was worse than anything I’ve ever experienced. He was too old to take to a counselor but he took my advice and got Eve in counseling when Cee Jay left and he did go with her. Thank God we got through it.”
“I wonder if her office is still open,” Gina said. “Three weeks ago, when she realized Downy was with another girl, she said she didn’t want to live.”
Lou leaned forward, nearly glaring at Gina. “Tell them this could be urgent. Tell the counselor’s office that your daughter has made suicidal statements.”
“Couldn’t that be an exaggeration? I’m not sure she really—”
“Gina James, would you rather be guilty of overdramatizing or lack of action? Jesus. Do as I say.”
“Yes, you’re right,” Gina said. “Why do we do that? Fear being an inconvenience? I’m stronger than that!” She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and punched in the numbers.
* * *
It was the only thing Ashley could think of to do—go to one of Downy’s games. When they were in high school together, that was the most important thing to him. He believed he couldn’t play well if she wasn’t there. Even though Eve thought it was a terrible idea when Ashley said she’d take her mother’s car again, she finally relented and said they could all go together. And Ashley hoped, hoped so much, that Downy would know she was there, know how much she loved him, and this whole nightmare would be turned around.
Landon, Eve and Ashley got to the game in the fourth inning. Downy was playing first base, a change from his usual position as pitcher but just as natural for him. He played four more innings and was up to bat four times—two base hits, a double and a home run just while the Thunder Point contingent was there. He was magnificent; he had the stadium on their feet. Then the game ended and Oregon State had shut out Arizona. Ashley was on her feet, screaming herself hoarse for Downy and the team at every play. The stands were full and the sun was setting, the stadium lights coming on before all was said and done.
People were streaming out of the stadium when Ashley said, “I want to see him.”
Eve stopped short. “What for? Ashley, what for?”
“I just want to tell him, good game. That’s all.”
“No, Ash. I don’t think you should,” Eve said.
“What can it hurt? Landon? What can it hurt?”
Eve shook her head. “He hasn’t called you,” she said. “It’s going to hurt.”
“Maybe. Maybe not,” Ashley said, stalking off toward the exit. But rather than heading for Landon’s car in the parking lot, she walked around the stadium. She looked over her shoulder at Landon and Eve. “I know where the locker room and exit is—back here,” she said. She put a little skip in her step as she headed down the walk toward the back.
She had good instincts—she found what she was looking for. It wasn’t exactly an original idea. There were quite a few students waiting back there. Also, a player’s bus was parked off to the side—probably for the Arizona team, taking them either to a hotel or the airport, or perhaps even home.
People were loitering, standing around and leaning against cars, waiting for the players to come out. The first couple of guys came out and were greeted by friends and girlfriends with whoops, cheers, high fives and kisses. A few more emerged and got into the Arizona bus. Ashley stood back, waiting. She couldn’t help it, she twisted her hands a little bit. All she wanted in life was for Downy to see her and be as thrilled as he had been in the old days.
More players came out—a big rush of them, duffels in hand, shoes dangling by the laces—all of them still pumped from the game.
“Dupre?” Downy shouted, noticing Landon and rushing over to him, hand outstretched. “What are you doing here, buddy?”
Landon took the hand. “We came up to see you play. Great game.” Then he inclined his head toward Ashley.
And Downy frowned. “Oh, man. This isn’t good.”
“She wanted to see you play,” Landon said.
“Hey, Ash.”
She stepped forward, smiling, still holding her hands together, trying to keep them still, praying. A few weeks ago she would have thrown herself into his arms and he would have lifted her and kissed her silly. “Downy,” she said smiling tremulously. “Good game.”
“Thanks,” he said. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“Why? You used to love it when I came to your games.”
He