In Confidence. Karen Young

eight, Ted had thrown himself into the fitness program a hundred and ten percent. After six months, he was as buff as a college boy. Without admitting to herself that he showed more interest in Wendy than was appropriate, Rachel had concentrated on giving him extra attention. She’d planned special outings, a five-day cruise, a surprise birthday party for him, an intimate candlelight dinner on their anniversary.

      Then Wendy had moved to Denver.

      But what if Wendy hadn’t moved? she wondered now. Had she failed to heed signs that he didn’t hold his vows to be as sacred as she did? Had she closed her eyes to Ted’s true character then? Had circumstances alone saved the day when Wendy left town?

      Marta took a sip of cola. “If the kids know, there’s no way you can keep this from your mom,” she said, adding dryly, “I’d love to hear her take on the situation. Dinah’s gonna want to hang him by his cheatin’ balls.”

      “I know.” Rachel sighed and glanced at her watch. “Kendall has a soccer game at two, then the whole team’s going somewhere for Amy Milton’s birthday. As soon as the game’s over, I’ll stop by and tell her. I need to check on her, anyway, but I’ll have to do it after Kendall’s game. No chance of Ted showing up for that. As for telling Mom, best just to get it over with. I can imagine her reaction and it won’t be pretty.” Lifting her hand, she studied the wedding ring on her finger somberly. “I wish there was some way to avoid having the world know what’s happened, Marta. It’s painful and humiliating for me, but it’s going to be worse for Nick and Kendall. I see kids at school coping with the breakup of their parents’ marriage. The reaction of their peers is not always sympathetic. I hate subjecting Nick and Kendall to that.”

      “It’ll be rocky at first, sure. But they’re tough, Rachel, and your relationship with them is great. Plus, you’re strong, and you’ll need that strength now. You’ll come through this well, whether your marriage survives or not. As for the kids, there’ll be as much moral support from their friends as otherwise. Even more. For the others—” she finished her drink and stood up “—when shitty people speak, just consider the source. The worst thing is, it’s all Ted’s doing and he’ll be distanced from a lot of the fallout living at the lake, the rat. Not fair, but that’s the way real life works.” She grabbed her keys, leaned over and gave Rachel a kiss on the cheek. “Call me if you need me.”

      Cam seldom took a break for lunch as it tended to break his concentration, but he’d been interrupted this morning by a call from his agent, Ben Eckstein, who was hot to start negotiations for a new contract. Nothing distracted Cam like contract negotiations. So, after firmly quelling Ben’s enthusiasm—and failing to pick up after Ben had interrupted—he remembered he hadn’t eaten the night before, so he wandered into the kitchen and made himself a sandwich. He was standing on his back porch eating it when he saw the kid leave Dinah Hunt’s patio and start across the lawn.

      The boy was lean and lanky, in his mid-teens, Cam guessed, feeling a catch in his chest. Looked athletic, too, moving with an easy gait in spite of the fact that he hadn’t yet grown into those long limbs and big hands and feet. A lot like Jack. And just about Jack’s age when—

      Dark memories instantly killed his appetite and he tossed the sandwich, food for the squirrels. Standing motionless, he watched the kid step around Dinah’s newly planted herb garden, then move through the thick growth of azaleas that separated the boundaries of her property and his own. Her grandson, Rachel’s boy? No sign of a car in the driveway, so apparently it took more for Rachel to find a moment for visiting her mother than a brief collapse in the garden.

      As the kid drew closer, he tried to come up with a name. Dinah had mentioned it. Nick. Yeah, Nick. And no mistake about it, he thought with a scowl, the kid was heading straight for his porch.

      “’Scuse me, sir.” He stood looking at Cam, hesitant and polite. But determined.

      Shit. It was too late to turn on his heel and go inside. “Nick, right?”

      “Yes, sir.” The boy ventured closer, stopped at the bottom step. Dark hair like his mother’s and those same odd gold eyes, Cam noted. “Dinah Hunt is my grandmother.”

      “Yeah, I know.”

      Nick glanced down at his feet, as if to gather his thoughts. Or courage. Then he looked back up at Cam. “My mom told me how you happened to see Gran when she fainted yesterday and that you took her to the hospital. I just wanted to come over and thank you for doing that.”

      “No need.” Cam took a couple of steps down to bring himself more in line with the boy. While inside, the memory of Jack was as heavy as lead, only a robot would be unmoved by the appeal in the boy’s face. “It was sheer luck that I happened to be out when it happened. You would have done the same. Anyone would.”

      “Maybe. But I just wanted to, you know, say thanks. I mean, I know my mom was grateful. And Gran, too, of course.” Fiddling with a smooth stone he’d picked up, he gazed at his grandmother’s house a moment before turning back to Cam. “And I need to ask you a favor.”

      Ah, Jesus, what now? Warily, Cam braced himself. He was promising nothing. “A favor?”

      “Yes, sir.” Nick tossed the stone. “My mom…she’s got a lot of things on her mind lately. She’s a guidance counselor at RHHS. I don’t know if you knew that, but—”

      “I knew.”

      “Well, a lot of kids sort of rely on her when they get in trouble or have personal problems and stuff.” He shrugged. “Not that she complains. She says it comes with the territory, but it can get so that she doesn’t have a lot of time left over for—”

      “For her mother?”

      He gave Cam a startled look. “No, sir. Well, not exactly. Gran’s pretty independent about that. Doesn’t want any advice most of the time.” He hesitated, then went on. “What I mean about my mom is she doesn’t have much time left over for anyone, not even herself. And if she did, she wouldn’t do much for herself, anyway. She’d be thinking of Kendy or me or…or Dad. Gran, too.” He paused, watching a squirrel eyeing the tossed sandwich. “And my dad, he’s…ah, kind of…I guess you could say…preoccupied right now.”

      “Preoccupied.”

      “It’s a long story.” Nick shifted so that he faced Cam squarely. “Anyway, Mom’s going to be really maxed out for some time because of this, uh, personal stuff that’s come up.” He paused and then went on in a rush, “And so the favor I had in mind was this. If you could just sort of keep an eye on Gran when Mom isn’t around—or me—it would mean a lot.”

      “Does your Gran know about this?”

      “You mean that I’m asking you to keep an eye on her? Jeez, no! She’d kill me. She’d come after me with my own bat. Mom, too. Anyway, Gran doesn’t think she needs any help, but where would she have been yesterday if you hadn’t just lucked out and happened to see her faint?”

      She would have come around in a few minutes and fixed herself something to eat, Cam thought. And it would have taught her a lesson. But then again, if it had been the heart attack he’d feared at the time, then this boy’s concern was well placed. “It isn’t necessary to ask me to keep an eye on your grandmother, Nick,” he said. “After what happened, I was planning on it. Within reason. But just so you’ll know, I’m a writer and I often get caught up in what I’m doing and lose track of time. You can’t depend on me exclusively.”

      “Yes, sir, I understand that. I’ll be checking on her myself. A lot.”

      They both watched the squirrel scamper across the ground and up into a tree, carrying a piece of Cam’s sandwich. “Speaking of bats,” Cam said, “do you play sports?”

      “Yes, sir, baseball.” He propped a foot on the bottom step. “I started with T-ball when I was six and I’ve been playing ever since.”

      “What’s your position?”

      “First base. For the B team, right