A Sister's Promise (Promises) (16 page)

When she arrived at her Miata, she didn’t feel her keys inside her purse. After a moment of fruitless searching, she decided it was time to get serious about the hunt by pulling everything out of her bag. She placed her “Just Peachy” and “Precious Pink” lipsticks on the blue hood and they immediately started to roll downward. She grabbed them and shoved them in her coat pocket. She pulled out her wallet, mini hairbrush, nail file and a tin of Altoids. Her eyes desperately scanned the bottom of her purse.

They weren’t there. Where could they be? Did they fall out of her purse somewhere in the parking lot? She would’ve heard them hit the pavement, wouldn’t she? She tossed everything back in her bag and re-traced her steps all the way back to her office.

“Is something wrong?” Antonio asked from his desk.

“I can’t find my keys.”

He offered to help her look. They searched her office then returned to her car, where she pulled on the handle just to make sure the door was locked. It was. They looked inside. The keys weren’t in the ignition. “There they are,” he said, pointing to the shiny pieces of metal next to the parking brake lever.

“Shit!” Kate exclaimed. Antonio’s eyebrows rose in surprise. She didn’t care. She pounded the roof with her fist, slow and steady, emphasizing her words. “How could I be so stupid?” She squeezed her eyes shut to hold off tears.

A few seconds later, she saw Antonio’s forehead wrinkled with concern. “It’ll be OK, Kate. Does Mitch have an extra set?”

“Yes,” she managed to answer, turning her back and leaning against the car door. A few stray snowflakes started to waft from the sky. Great. Snow.

“Let’s go call Mitch then.”

For a moment she hesitated, rubbing her cold, red hands together. Then she followed Antonio inside. Returning to her office just reminded her of the day’s frustrations. She saw the stack of papers she had forgotten to fill out and sighed.

She knew she should be glad the Ricardo mystery was solved, but she couldn’t help feeling diminished by the fact that the guidance secretary could get students to open up better than she could.

Was this really what she was meant to do?

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Kate sat on the living room couch stuffing Oreos into her mouth. She shoved one in after another without even tasting them.
I’m a failure. I’m a horrible counselor and an even worse sister.

As if sensing her pain, her cat Monte jumped into her lap. He pushed on her thighs with his front paws as if he were flattening a pillow. Then he walked in a circle and pushed some more. “Lie down already,” Kate snapped. Monte looked at her, blinked, then conceded.

She picked up the phone, but didn’t dial. She knew it would sting when her sister once again didn’t answer. She listened to Monte purr and remembered the day she and Mitch went to the animal shelter.

The two of them weren’t even looking for a kitten. They had both agreed they wanted an older cat—one with an established personality. They wanted to know what they were getting.

After looking around a bit, Kate had spotted him. The black and white kitten had been huddled in the corner of his cage looking so forlorn that Kate couldn’t stop herself from picking him up. She had felt his ribs as she’d placed him in her lap. His tiny body had softly vibrated.

Mitch had pointed out that the Siamese cat he’d been petting was more attractive in every way compared to the little runt. But Monte looked up at Kate as if to say, “Pick me. You won’t be sorry.”

After a long debate, Mitch finally agreed they could take a chance on a kitten, on the condition that he got to name him. “Let’s call him Monte Carlo.”

Kate looked up while she kept stroking the kitten’s back. “What? I was thinking more along the lines of Cuddles or Boots.”

Mitch shook his head. “This is more original. At work I use a Monte Carlo Analysis to deal with real world situations involving elements of uncertainty. What has a bigger element of uncertainty than a kitten?”

In the end, he was right. Some days Monte slept all day at the foot of their bed and on other days Kate would come home to discover he had shredded the upholstery on their couch. Mitch suggested getting the cat de-clawed, but she couldn’t bring herself to put him through an unnecessary operation.

She ran her palm across Monte’s back in a long, gentle motion. If only she could be as sure about having a baby as she was about picking him.

The phone rang and Kate jumped. Monte hopped down. Seeing Joely’s name on the caller ID, Kate spoke first. “I was just about to call you. Where
are
you?”

“Just hanging out in San Diego. It’s eighty degrees and sunny every single day.”

“You didn’t go to Yosemite?”

“No. I didn’t want to go by myself. Besides, there’s plenty to do here. There’s the beach and the zoo and some great restaurants.”

Kate realized that her sister had never gone on a vacation by herself. Even though Joely hadn’t ventured beyond San Diego, Kate felt proud of her. Maybe Joely’s days of waiting were over. “I hated to leave you there, but it sounds like you’re having fun. Are you still angry with me?”

“You know I can’t stay mad at you, sis. It would be great if you were here, but I’m having a good time. I suppose one of us has to act like a grown-up and go to work every day. I’m just glad it’s not me.” Joely laughed.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t stay. I wish I had.”

“No, Kate. I shouldn’t have asked you to.”

Hearing these words, Kate let her shoulders relax. Silently she vowed to never fight with Joely again. They chatted some more until a yawn overtook her.

“Am I boring you?” Joely asked.

“No. I’m just tired.”

“I hear pregnancy can make you tired.”

“I just didn’t sleep well last night.” Kate clenched her teeth.

“Maybe you should see a fertility specialist. Unless. . .”

“What?”

“Unless you’re not trying.”

Kate let silence be her answer.

Joely continued, “Is it because of Mitch?”

“I’m still working on him.” Kate didn’t say it, but it wasn’t just Mitch. Something else kept holding her back.

# # #

Long after Kate had covered the meatloaf and placed it in the fridge, she heard Mitch’s key in the door. Monte, who was back in Kate’s lap, looked up as Mitch walked in.

Mitch’s keys clinked as he dropped them on the table. “Aren’t you two sweet?”

Kate smiled. Sometimes she wished she could bring Monte to work with her. When students came to her, stressed out about a decision, petting Monte would help them relax and gain perspective. Just as he had for her.

As Mitch grabbed a handful of peanuts out of the pantry, Kate said, “I think we should talk.”

“Uh-oh. Sounds serious.” He tossed the nuts in his mouth, searching the pantry shelves for something else.

Kate thought of the empty Oreo package in the trash and hoped that wasn’t what he was looking for. “How do you feel about having a kid?” Good job, Kate. An open-ended question.

“I don’t want to fight again.” He opened the fridge, reached past the meatloaf, pulled out a bottle of beer and sat down on the other couch. He picked up the remote control and turned on the TV.

“No, I don’t either. Would you
please
turn that off?”

The screen went blank.

“It’s just that I’ve been giving it a lot of thought. I started wondering if you’d been thinking about it, too.”

“Do we really have to get into this again? It’s been a long day.”

Kate sighed because she had to get this off her chest. “I know things are shaky at work for you right now, but I’m starting to feel like if we ever want to have a family, it’s now or never.”

“Because of Joely,” he said.

“And because I’m not getting any younger.” She thought about the picture of Ricardo’s little brother. “I’m thirty-five. On top of everything else, every year we wait, my chances of having a Down’s syndrome baby go up.”

He didn’t respond.

Kate rubbed Monte’s coat a little faster. The day’s frustrations came back to her. “Sometimes I feel like I don’t even make a difference. I mean, I only see my students for a few minutes and I’m trying to make-up for what’s missing in their home life. At least if I had my own kid I would have a bigger impact on one life than I do on the 218 I’m responsible for now.”

He took a drink. “Sounds like you just had a bad day at work.”

“Definitely. I had the opportunity to actually do what I was trained to do, instead of filling out some statistical analysis for the state, and I sucked at it.”

“You’re too hard on yourself.” He walked back to the pantry and scanned the shelves again.

Was that all it was? A bad day at work? Or was it more than that? Kate looked at the mantel clock’s swinging pendulum. She walked near Mitch and leaned against the kitchen island. “I guess I’m thinking maybe we should have a baby.” Her stomach flip-flopped. “I’m wondering if you. . . .because if you really don’t want one . . . .he or she deserves an involved dad.”

He slammed the pantry doors shut. “That’s it.” He marched past her and up the stairs.

She followed him into their bedroom and watched as he pulled a duffle bag from his closet. He jerked open the top drawer on his bureau and started grabbing socks and underwear and shoving them in the bag’s open zipper.

Kate watched him with awe. “What are you doing?”

“I’ve tried to be patient because your sister is sick.” He tossed T-shirts and jeans into the bag. “But I can’t take this. I’m obviously not the man you want to be married to any more.”

She grabbed his forearm. “Yes, you are.”

He shook her hand away. “No, I’m not. All you talk about these days is having a baby.” He went to his closet and carried out dress shirts and pants still on their hangers. “You can’t just change the rules in the middle of the game.”

God, it looked like he was packing for a month-long trip. “Mitch, please don’t be like this. I just wanted. . . .” She wasn’t sure what she wanted.

He carried his bag and work clothes past her. The smell of perspiration mixed with Polo cologne. Her heart pounded. She heard him hurry down the stairs as if he couldn’t get away from her fast enough.

In ten years of marriage, their fights had never escalated to this level. She stumbled on the stairs and almost fell, catching herself with the handrail. She raced to catch up to Mitch. “Where are you going?”

He didn’t look at her as he swung open the door to the garage. “Does it matter?”

Kate flinched when his Mustang’s door slammed. She watched him speed away.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Sobs consumed her. Kate sat on a kitchen stool, her head in her hands. She replayed the scene in her head.
I’m obviously not the man you want to be married to anymore.
God. What had she done?

Still crying, she dialed Mitch’s cell phone. He didn’t answer. She tried again. And again. Where was he? This was some kind of misunderstanding. If they could just talk. . . .

The house echoed with emptiness. She felt lost. Alone.

Eventually she stopped bawling enough to call her best friend. “Trish?” She sniffled and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “Could you come over?”

“What’s wrong?”

She couldn’t bring herself to say it aloud. “I—I just really need to talk.”

“Can you come over here? I’ve been drinking and I probably shouldn’t drive.”

Kate didn’t want to leave her house, but she didn’t want to be alone any more either.

When Kate arrived, Trish took one look at her and said, “Looks like you could use a drink. Follow me.”

They went into the kitchen where Trish uncorked the souvenir bottle of champagne Kate had given her last summer. “Now that you’re here, I can break into the good stuff.”

“But why are you drinking?”

“I’m celebrating the fact that I’m finally off my meds.”

Kate nodded, unable to muster more enthusiasm. She could hear Trish’s dad and another male voice coming from the den and was anxious to hide her red eyes. Carrying two glasses, Kate followed as Trish walked upstairs. Once inside the pink room decorated with a poster from the TV show “Friends” and a shelf of dusty tennis trophies, Trish closed the door behind them.

Kicking off her shoes, Kate sat on Trish’s bed. “No offense, Trish, but I don’t know how you can stand to still live at home. I couldn’t wait to get out of Aunt Suzy’s house.”

Trish filled their glasses and placed the bottle on her desk. “It’s not so bad. I’m saving for the down payment on a house. But we’re not here to talk about me. What’s going on?”

Kate filled her lungs to capacity, trying to figure out where to begin. “I’m not even sure. I asked Mitch if he’d thought any more about having a baby and he freaked out. He packed a bag and took off.”

“Oh, Kate.” Trish put her glass on the night stand and wrapped her arms around Kate’s frame. “I’m so sorry.”

Kate nodded and tried to stop the tears from restarting. She looked up at the ceiling fan and blinked several times.

Trish leaned back, her eyes serious. “Has he ever done that before?”

“No. Never. He’s so even-tempered. That’s one of the things I love about him.” A tear rolled down her cheek.

Trish stood up, grabbed a box of tissues and returned to the bed. “Where do you think he went?”

Kate shrugged. “I have no idea. A hotel maybe.”

“I’m sure he’ll be back as soon as he cools off.”

Studying Trish’s face, Kate tried to see how sure she was. “I just don’t know what to do.” Kate’s breathing felt stilted. “I don’t want to lose him.”

“You’re not going to lose him, Kate. You’ve been together for ten years.”

“But he said I’m changing the rules in the middle. And he’s right.” Kate wiped her nose then downed her glass of champagne.

Trish reached for the bottle and refilled Kate’s glass. “So, you’ve decided you want to have a baby?”

Kate shrugged. “I’m not one-hundred percent yet, but I think so. I just wanted to talk about it more with Mitch. I wasn’t saying we need to definitely start trying.”

Trish raised her eyebrows. “Well, that’s exciting. The fact that you’ve changed your mind about a kid.”

“Not if it destroys my marriage it’s not.”

# # #

After more sympathy and champagne, Kate excused herself and walked to the bathroom at the end of the hallway. While inside the black and white striped room, the doorbell rang. She heard the front door open and muffled voices through the floor.

As she exited the washroom, she glanced over the balcony railing, open to the living room below. Feeling a little tipsy, she decided not to get too close to the edge. She saw Trish’s dad talking with some other men. He didn’t see her.

Then she noticed Mr. Mohr. What was he doing there? Next to him, she recognized the elderly superintendent. Besides those three people, Kate saw a fourth man in a black suit and red tie. With his half-bald head and crooked nose he reminded her of Mr. Burns from the Simpsons. Something weird was going on; everyone looked like they should be at a funeral.

“Where is this Jennifer?” Mr. Mohr asked. “She’s late.”

Hearing the name Jennifer, Kate rushed into the enclosed part of the hallway. Even though she knew she shouldn’t, she felt compelled to listen.

The doorbell rang again and she peered around the corner. A woman in her thirties who looked tired of fighting the elements entered the room. She loosened the gray scarf wrapped around her neck like a noose. When Trish’s dad tried to take her coat, she mumbled something inaudible and kept it. Dressed in faded jeans and salt-stained winter boots, she sat stiffly on the edge of the couch, fidgeting with the strap on her purse.

Trish’s dad introduced everyone, sounding very formal. When Kate heard it, she recognized the bald guy’s name. Mr. Darrin. The school’s attorney.

Everyone fell silent.

“Well, we’d like to hear what you have to say,” the superintendent prodded.

“I’m very nervous,” the frail woman’s voice said.

I would be, too, Kate thought. There wasn’t a lot of warmth in that room. But what did she expect—trying to ruin the career of a devoted counselor with her lies? Why would she do such a thing to Rhonda?

“Did you read my e-mail?” she asked.

Just then Trish opened her door and started to say something. Kate put her finger to her lips and waved for her to come over. They crouched down like children trying to catch a glimpse of Santa Claus. Kate felt incredibly juvenile and unprofessional, but she needed to know what Rhonda was accused of doing. Maybe she could somehow help disprove this woman’s story.

A female voice drifted up to Kate. “Well, like I said, I was taken advantage of when I was at Foxworth High.”

Trish’s eyes got as big as quarters. Kate nodded as if to say, “I can’t believe it either!”

“By whom?” Kate recognized Mr. Mohr’s drill sergeant tone.

Jennifer took a deep breath. “It was my World History teacher, Mrs. Cochran.”

Trish furrowed her brow and mouthed, “Linda Cochran?”

Kate was confused. She felt sure Mr. Mohr had addressed Rhonda as the guilty one. And Rhonda had sounded defensive. Had she really been standing up for Mrs. B?

Kate couldn’t imagine Mrs. B, more frigid than Antarctica, being intimate with anyone.

Kate stared at the corners of an electrical outlet in the hallway while Jennifer explained how she stayed after class to get tutoring. “My parents were fighting all the time and they didn’t even notice when I was gone. Mrs. Cochran drove me home from school when one of them forgot to pick me up. And then one time she suggested I come over for dinner. It wasn’t like anyone was cooking dinner at my house. So, I went. Sometimes she would brush up against me when she walked by or touch my hair and tell me how pretty I looked. Eventually she started giving me a hug goodbye every time I left her house.”

The room fell silent. “Do you mind if I smoke?” Jennifer asked. Kate heard her unzip her bag. Kate imagined her hands trembling, just like her voice. “Anyway, she did some stuff to me.”

“I’m afraid we need details, Miss Taylor,” the superintendent said.

The conversation paused and Kate envisioned Jennifer taking a puff of her cigarette, trying to calm her nerves. “At first it was just the hugging. Then there was some kissing. Do I really have to say more?”

“Who initiated the kissing?” Mr. Darrin, the lawyer asked.

“She did,” Jennifer retorted, obviously offended by the question. “She started everything. I’m not gay. I was just vulnerable. And she saw that and took advantage of it! She’s a horrible person and shouldn’t be allowed around children.”

“You weren’t exactly a child,” Mr. Darrin said.

Her tone turned sharp. “Yes I was! She was the teacher. An authority figure. I used to think it was my fault, but my therapist said Mrs. Cochran needs to take responsibility.”

Kate nodded. She felt bad that Jennifer had to say this to a room full of strangers—the majority of whom acted like she wanted to cause trouble. It wasn’t right. The counselor side of Kate wanted to go sit next to her and reassure her that this wasn’t her fault.

“What else happened?” the superintendent asked.

It sounded like Jennifer started to cry. “I can’t. . .I can’t. . . .”

“How do we know what you’re telling us is true?” Mr. Mohr asked.

Kate pondered that question. When she’d thought Rhonda stood accused, she had discounted the story. Now, she felt sorry for Jennifer.

Jennifer blew her nose. “Don’t you recognize the truth when you hear it?” The room remained silent. “I’m not the only one she did this to. I know someone else who was a victim like me.”

“Who?”

“I tried to get her to come with me, but she wouldn’t. She wants to remain anonymous.”

“So how much do you want?” Mr. Darrin asked.

“You think I want money?” Her voice raised in pitch and volume. “What she did to me was wrong. Sexual stuff. It messed me up for a lot of years. That woman must be fired.” There were some shuffling sounds. “That’s what I came to say. Now I’d like to go.”

Kate heard the front door open and close. No one said goodbye.

Kate and Trish stared at one another wide-eyed for a moment.

“From a legal standpoint,” Mr. Darrin began, “what the woman described is not technically child molestation, due to the alleged victim’s age at the time of the incident.”

The floor squeaked as if someone paced below. “For all we know this woman is crazy,” the superintendent said. “She admits she’s been in therapy. I think that what’s best for Foxworth Community Schools is to keep this quiet.”

Kate suspected Mr. Darrin was probably punching at his Blackberry, like she had seen him do at school board meetings. “This allegedly happened so many years ago that the statute of limitations has expired. Our best option is to work out a settlement and have her sign a nondisclosure statement.”

Kate inwardly fumed. They were so detached. Didn’t anyone care that it was their job to protect the students? What if they had a daughter in Mrs. B’s class? They wouldn’t care about the statute of limitations then.

Then Mr. Mohr spoke. “I’m going over to Linda Cochran’s house tonight to find out the truth. I will not have someone working for me who crosses the line with students. I don’t care how many years have passed.”

Kate was so proud of him. In this case, his inability to see anything besides black and white shone as an asset.

Trish waved Kate back to her room.

When Kate stood up, her left knee cracked and she froze. Even though she was hidden behind the wall, she could feel four sets of eyes turn toward her. Her heart knocked so hard she could feel it against her ribs. She remained motionless for what felt like an eternity. She didn’t even allow herself to breathe.

“That’s probably just the cat,” Trish’s dad said.

Kate and Trish remained still until the men began talking again. Then the women tiptoed down the hall.

Once her door closed, Kate half-whispered, “Oh, my gosh. I can’t believe it’s Mrs. B. Can you?”

Trish shook her head in disbelief.

“You know her better than I do. Can you see her doing something like that with a student?”

“No.” Trish scratched her nose. “I mean. . .I don’t think so.”

“You think maybe she did it? I didn’t know she was a lesbian.”

“She’s not,” Trish replied quickly. “Just because a woman kisses another woman doesn’t mean anything.”

Kate stared at her. “Do you know something?”

Trish sighed and sat on the edge of her bed. Kate sat down next to her.

With one finger Trish traced the lines along her palm. “There was this one time, back when I was in high school.”

“What? Did she do something?”

“No. Not really. It just seemed weird is all. I’d completely forgotten about it.”

Kate touched her forearm. “Tell me, Trish.”

“I’d just gotten dumped by my boyfriend and I felt like my world was crumbling. I couldn’t really talk to my dad about it. I was totally stressed. Mrs. Cochran sensed something was wrong and she asked me to stay after school to talk. Eventually I broke down and told her how horrible everything was. She was great, really. Then she put her hand on my thigh. For some reason, it made me feel funny. Suddenly I realized the lights were out in the hallways and the school was empty. I jumped up and ran home.”

“Are you sure that’s all she did? If you could corroborate Jennifer’s story, they would have to fire her.”

Trish shook her head. “That was it.”

Then Kate heard a forceful knock on the door. She and Trish locked eyes and sucked in their breath.

After a long pause, Trish finally opened her bedroom door. Trish’s dad and a tight-lipped Mr. Mohr stared at them. Kate felt confident this wasn’t what her boss meant when he told her to put in extra hours.

“Were you listening to our private conversation downstairs?” Mr. Mohr asked, suddenly reducing Kate psychologically to a guilt-ridden teenager.

Was she really going to lie? At her age? She hesitated, her head feeling a bit wobbly. “Yes.”

“How much did you hear?” Mr. Mohr demanded.

Kate shrugged her shoulders. “Pretty much all of it.”

An uncomfortable moment passed before anyone spoke. “Well, regardless what you may have heard or
think
you heard,” Mr. Mohr said, “you are not to speak to anyone about this. Not to any parents, staff or students.”

Kate’s stomach churned. She wondered how her life could get any worse.