The Newcomer (Thunder Point) (5 page)

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 dropped his duffel and looked at her harshly and she felt her lips quiver. “I’m sorry things didn’t work out. You have to stop now. Stop calling and texting all the time. Don’t come to the games.”

“Can’t we be friends?” she asked, her eyes tearing. “We’ve known each other since we were about five.”

He pulled his phone out of his pocket, clicked a little and held it toward her so she could see the million texts and pictures she’d sent him. “This is not friendly. This is just about harassment.”

“Well, forgive me for living,” she snapped. “I thought you might appreciate some friends coming to your—”

“Downy!” a female yelled.
“Baby!”
And the tall, slim, dark-haired girl from the frat house threw herself on him, wrapping her legs around his waist and hugging his neck. “You are such a
stud!
” she yelled against his shoulder.

Her,
Ashley thought. It’s still her.

“Selena,” he said, gently putting her on her feet. She looked a little confused when he put her down. “Some of my friends from home,” he said. “Landon, Eve and Ashley.”

At first Selena smiled, but then she glowered. She turned her attention toward Downy. “Is this the little psycho who keeps calling you and sexting you, day and night?”

Ashley felt the growl come out of her before she realized what was happening. Little psycho? She put up her hands in the shape of claws, nails bared, and took two giant steps toward the girl named Selena. She was going to claw her face and rip her hair out. But as fast as a lightning bolt, Downy put Selena behind him and Landon jumped between them. He grabbed Ashley’s wrists.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Landon said.

And Downy yelled, “What the
hell,
Ashley! Are you
crazy?
”

“Okay, we’re outta here,” Landon said. “Good seeing you, Downy.” He looped his hand through Ashley’s arm and gripped her tightly. She pulled against him and snarled, but he held on. “Don’t even think about it or I’ll throw you over my shoulder,” he muttered. “Come on, Eve. Come on.”

Landon made pretty fast tracks around the building to the parking lot. Eve was scrambling to keep up behind them while he was dragging Ashley.

“Let go,” Ashley said.

“Not a chance. I don’t want to have to tackle you.” Then he laughed without humor. “Seriously? A cat fight? Have you totally lost it?”

“He
hurt
me,” she said fiercely.

“And so you were going to scratch her eyes out?” he asked, marching her along.

“She called me a little psycho!”

“So you were going to prove it?”

She groaned and kept up with him somehow. But by the time they got to the SUV, Ashley was softly crying. “You just don’t get it,” she said softly, pitifully. “He said he loved me, that he’d love me forever....”

“I get it,” Landon said. He turned her toward him and gripped her upper arms. Eve caught up to them. “I get it. You were serious. You were a couple. And you broke up. I’m sorry, Ash. You think you’re going to get him back by acting like a psycho and beating up his new girlfriend?”

She stared at him, knowing the truth and wisdom in what he was saying, but it somehow didn’t help her at all. She could feel her face contort, then crumble as a fresh flood of tears ran down her cheeks. “It can’t be over,” she whispered, sobbing and gasping softly. “It can’t. It can’t. It can’t.”

* * *

Gina made the appointment for Ashley. No discussion. She tried to channel Aunt Lou and merely announced to Ashley that she was going, then drove her to Bandon. “I’m
not
crazy!” Ashley railed at Gina.

“Of course you’re not—you’re upset, that’s what you are. And you have good reason to be upset and brokenhearted and angry. Counselors have helped people get through all kinds of emotional situations and crises. Just talk with her. It certainly can’t hurt.”

“I’m not telling her my personal business!”

“And I’m sure she’s been through plenty of that before, too,” Gina muttered.

The ride to Bandon to the counselor’s office was quiet and sulky. Every now and then Ashley muttered, “I don’t want to go” and “I’m not telling her anything.”

The office of Simone Ross was small, nondescriptly furnished in what resembled cheap, old apartment furniture, maybe dating back to the
I Love Lucy
show. There was no one in the waiting room, however there was a desk with a clipboard, piece of paper, pen and at the top of the page it said,
Please Sign In.
There was a door, presumably to an interior office. After sitting in the waiting room for ten minutes, the interior door opened and a grandmotherly woman with an ample bosom, pink cheeks, short silver hair and wide hips smiled. “Ashley?”

Ashley nodded nervously and stood.

“Hello. I’m Simone. Why don’t you go inside.” Then she turned to Gina. “Ms. James? We’ll be about forty minutes. You can wait here or step out for a while.”

“I’ll...ah...wait.”

Simone gave a nod and immediately closed herself in with Ashley.

Gina sat on one of the uncomfortable chairs, alone in the reception area, listening. She didn’t hear a murmur from that inner office and she was aching to know what was happening in there.

Support like this was relatively new and many people relied on the right insurance coverage. When Ashley was born, Gina’s mom had been working at the diner for Stu. It was that event, the cost of the birth, that caused Stu to amp up his coverage for his full-time employees, of which there were two besides himself and his wife. It had been enormously expensive. It hadn’t gotten any less so, but Stu had gotten used to it. The coverage included some counseling.

This was what Gina would like to do one day, once she completed her master’s degree in counseling—help people through crises just like this. She had two reasons for this pursuit—she knew that things like this didn’t kill you and with the right kind of support, you grew stronger and wiser. Truthfully, since the moment Ashley and Downy started dating, Gina had feared the extremes—that they would marry young before ever experiencing life or finishing their educations, or that it might end disastrously, leaving her beautiful girl brokenhearted.

Ashley so needed this objective assistance. Gina would remember to thank Lou for insisting on something Gina should have thought of herself.

She leaned back and closed her eyes. Wasn’t this just the rule rather than the exception...? Just when you thought things had fallen so sweetly into place—Carrie’s business was good, Ashley had been happy, Gina had finally come together with Mac—some life event shook everything up. Right now all Carrie and Gina could think about was Ashley, suffering in sadness and depression, losing weight just as efficiently as any divorce diet, weeping into her pillow at night.

It was a long forty minutes before Simone opened the door to the reception room and Gina shot to her feet, betraying her anxiety.

“Will you join us for a few minutes, Ms. James?”

“Gina,” she said. “Please, just call me Gina.” And then she followed the older woman into the office.

Ashley held a wadded-up tissue in her grip and it was obvious—she’d done a little crying for the counselor. This suggested she had shared her personal business. Gina tried not to smile. The counselor indicated a chair and Gina took it expectantly.

“Ashley and I have talked about things and I’ve asked her to come back in two weeks for another talk. But in the meantime I’d like her to try a teen group that meets here, in this office. Their issues run the gamut—a little of everything—but they seem to be very helpful to each other. That group meets Tuesdays and Thursdays here—my associate moderates the group and he’s terrific. Ashley is willing to give that a try.”

“Okay,” Gina said. Why did she think this one counseling session would provide a cure? She knew better. And why did she fear group therapy? Ashley had a broken heart—almost a rite of passage. She feared hooking her up with a bunch of troubled teens, some possibly there by court order. “You’re good with that idea, Ash?” she asked.

“My first choice is to go home and just sit in the closet for a year,” Ashley said.

“Thus the counseling, group and individual,” Simone said. “The closet is not a good idea. Not designed for recovery. You move at your own speed in group,” she went on. “They’re not going to hold you down and make you talk—that’s entirely up to you. And if it’s not right for you, well, we’ll just try something else. In the meantime, please call me if you’re having a hard time.” She looked at Gina. “Ashley has my cell number and I’ll take her call if I’m not in session. If I’m in session, I’ll return the call as soon as I can.”

Four

C
ooper had driven to North Bend a few times to meet Sarah, twice for lunch and twice for dinner when she was sitting alert and stuck at the air station. But she’d never invited him inside to pet the helicopters or meet her colleagues or crews. When she invited him to join her at the end of inspection blowout at a local pub, his face lit up like a beacon. They were even arriving and leaving together.

As they were driving from Thunder Point to North Bend he said, “You’re bringing me out of the closet,” he teased, obviously incredibly pleased.

“I try to keep my professional life and my personal life separate,” she said.

“You’re letting the guys know you have a boyfriend,” he said, laughter in his voice.

“How do you know I don’t just need a designated driver?”

“It wouldn’t surprise me at all if you planned to get wasted,” he said. “You’ve been really stressed out over this inspection. Maybe now you can relax a little bit.”

But it was not the inspection, Sarah thought. The inspection was a lot of work, but her team was outstanding and she never worried for a second—she knew they’d come out smelling like roses. It was that other matter—facing a potential reassignment in the near future and having no idea which way to turn.

Note to self,
she thought,
I need a better cover!
I can’t let it show! Not until I’m ready to talk about it and I can’t talk about it until I know what the hell to do!

When she told Buzz she was bringing a date, she emphasized, “No one knows about your little HR bombshell so don’t breathe a word at the party.”

“Since I swore you to secrecy, no one better know,” he said.

“I mean, not even Cooper.
Especially not Cooper.
So don’t take him out by the keg for a private little chat.”

And then Buzz had lifted his blond eyebrows and said, “You know, when stuff like this came up, even if it’s secret stuff, if it affects the family, I would always talk to my wife,” he said.

And she said, “And now? Twice divorced? Who do you talk to now?”

“Okay,” he said. “Got me there. I wouldn’t talk to a girlfriend. If I had one.”

“Exactly,” she had said.

And to Cooper she said, “Listen, do me a favor. Don’t mention to anyone at this party that I’ve been stressed out. I wouldn’t want them to think I’m anything but cool and calm. When women get command positions and act like nervous girls, it really plays hell on the leadership role. Got that?”

He just grinned at her.

“I’m not going to get wasted and you better not, either.”

He grinned bigger.

“If they start to get a little nuts or start doing shots, walk away,” she ordered.

“And if I don’t?” he teased.

She reached across the cab of his truck and squeezed his thigh. “If you ever want to have sex again, you’ll behave.”

He laughed and said, “Now you’re speaking my language. And boy, am I glad you’ve got this inspection behind you!”

I need another kind of inspection,
she thought.
Something to keep his mind off my mood.

Most things about the party were entirely predictable—like the fact that everyone was loose and happy and got the biggest kick out of Sarah bringing a man, as if she were a nun or the resident lesbian. The fact that he was a helicopter pilot really charged them up and there were lots of questions about his civilian jobs. Cooper had worked for private contractors who provided the military with services from flying Blackhawks in foreign countries, to years working for oil companies in the Gulf of Mexico. There were many toasts to the XO and CO for the winning performance in the inspection and before long there were toasts for just about anything—for taking a breath, for standing after a couple of hours of steady drinking. And when the captain and XO left the party, they got louder and started doing shots.

Cooper was having a good time and, as ordered, did not do shots. But Sarah got pulled into the fray and threw back at least a couple, and she didn’t miss the twinkle in Cooper’s highly entertained eyes. She received many slaps on the back, many high fives, and it was confirmed that she was a lot more fun when she had a boyfriend. But when her face became flushed, Cooper said, “Okay, missy, that should do it for you. Let’s take off.”

“Please,” she said. “Oh, please...”

“I don’t need a bucket for the truck, do I?”

“Don’t be silly,” she said, eyes at half mast. “I can hold my liquor!”

“Oh, you’re doing great,” Cooper said. “It’s ten o’clock.” Sarah wasn’t sure they had cleared the parking lot before she was asleep. She had vague memories of being half carried, half dragged into the house.

In what seemed like three seconds later she groaned and muttered, “Turn off the light.”

“I don’t have enough cosmic power to turn off the light,” Cooper replied. “It’s morning.”

She sat up as though a cattle prod had assisted her. The second she was upright, she groaned and grabbed her head. Slowly, very slowly, she opened one eye and looked at him. He was lying beside her on her bed in his jeans and stocking feet. “What are you doing here?”

He put his hands behind his head. “Well, by the time I put you to bed, let out the dog and filled his water dish, Landon still wasn’t home. So—I turned on the TV, laid back down and fell asleep.”

She gingerly lifted the covers. She was wearing her shirt and panties. “Great,” she said. “My brother knows you undressed me.”

“More important than that, he knows you were toasted. By the way, you sure talk a lot in your sleep when you’re drunk.”

“I wasn’t drunk, I was just...” He was smiling at her. “Okay, I was drunk. Remind me that tequila shots on top of beer is not recommended. Why did you stay the night?”

“I was tired,” he said. “Believe me, Landon knows there was no nookie. Are you going to live?”

“It’s questionable.”

He lifted one eyebrow. “Little hair of the dog?” he asked.

“Don’t talk like that. It could get messy.”

“You’re a lightweight, Dupre.” He sat up. “I should get out to the bar before Rawley shows up and reports me missing. You coming out later?”

“Maybe after I get a new head.”

* * *

Cooper suspected Sarah had gone back to sleep. It was nearly noon by the time she showed up with Ham—they’d walked across the beach. And she looked both rested and recovered. “I was afraid to call you. Afraid you might be sleeping it off.”

Right at that moment, her cell chirped. “Landon has felt no such restraint,” she said. “He made as much noise as possible getting ready for school and he thinks it’s extremely funny that I’m hungover.” Then into the phone she said, “What?”

A few moments later Cooper said, “That can’t be the first time he’s seen you a little tiddly.”

“Cooper, I was not tiddly. I was wasted. And yes, that probably was the first time he’s seen that. You’re right, I’m a lightweight.”

“And he’s punishing you with phone calls?”

“He’s between classes, calling from the men’s room—I heard flushing. They’re not supposed to make calls during school hours. So, he wants to go over to Eve’s house. And I’ll be more than happy if he does.”

“Sounds fine to me. Jeez, I have to get a better system around here. I’d buy Rawley a cell phone, but he probably wouldn’t use it.”

“What’s the matter with Rawley?”

“He doesn’t talk to me unless he has to. He didn’t show up today. He pretty much makes his own hours, which is fine. Everything we have to do gets done. But if he’s not coming at all, he should let me know. That way when he doesn’t let me know, like today, I know he’s all right.”

“Do you think he’s not all right?” she asked.

“No telling. I’ve been thinking about driving over to Elmore to check on him, but there’s no one to watch the store.”

“Cooper, I’ll keep an eye on things. How long could it take?”

He shrugged. “Almost a half hour each way, then seeing if he’s around. He takes care of his father, who is an invalid. When Rawley works, a neighbor lady who’s a nurse’s aid in a nursing home looks in on him. If I can’t find Rawley anywhere, I’ll need to call hospitals or something. Rawley is strange, but he’s pretty reliable.”

“Then just go. Will you make me dinner for me tonight?”

“Sure,” he said, pulling her in for a kiss. “I’d rather lock the doors and take you upstairs for a while. You were less than romantic last night.” He kissed her again. “But I should make sure Rawley is okay. I don’t know how old he is, but older than dirt, I suspect.”

“Just go. Ease your mind. Then if there aren’t a lot of people around later, we can make out awhile.”

“Can we make out naked?”

“No,” she said with a laugh. “What if my brother popped in for some reason?”

“Your brother. You know, I like Landon, but is it too late to put him up for adoption? We could get visitation a couple of days a week....”

“And the rest of the week?”

He nuzzled her neck. “I think you know....”

“Go,” she said. “I’ll check out the freezer and decide what I want for dinner.”

* * *

Cooper found Rawley’s red truck in the driveway at his house, indicating he was at home, but there was a for sale sign in the back window of the truck. Maybe he’d decided to work on restoring Ben’s old truck and drive it at the same time. When Cooper found all the stuff in Ben’s old storage shed—truck, Razor, tools, etc.—he’d given Ben’s truck to Rawley and invited him to use any tools he needed to work on it. He gave the Razor to Sarah and Landon since he had a Rhino for himself.

Cooper parked on the street, walked up the brick steps and knocked on the door. He knocked again before Rawley opened the door. Rawley was wearing a white dress shirt with his jeans—a new look for him. There was no bandana tied around his head, either. And his hair—extremely thin on top and usually long—had been trimmed.

“What’s up, Rawley?” Cooper asked. And Rawley just held open the door so Cooper could step inside. “You’re selling the truck?” he asked as he entered. And then he saw the empty wheelchair sitting in front of the fireplace. “Rawley...”

“He passed real quiet,” Rawley said. “In his sleep. I found him this morning.”

“Aw, Rawley. I’m sorry, man. You should have called me.”

Rawley just shook his head. “I knew what to do.”

Cooper reached out and put a strong hand on his shoulder. “I could’ve helped.”

“You got a business to run.”

“I also have commitments to friends,” he said. “I would’ve put the big thermos on the porch, some doughnuts on a plate under the glass so the birds wouldn’t get in ’em. There’s just the two of us out there on the beach. There’s gonna be times we have to be somewhere else.”

Rawley, so unexpressive, looked surprised by that. “Just figured I’d get ’er done.”

“You’re selling the truck?”

He shrugged. “My dad, he had himself a plot, paid for, but that’s about it. It’s either sell the house or the truck.”

“To pay for the funeral?”

“Won’t be no funeral, there’s just us. But he needs a box.”

Cooper stood uncertainly for a moment. “Could we sit down in the kitchen and have a cup of coffee?”

Without answering, Rawley turned and headed toward the kitchen. Once there he brought a fresh cup out of the cupboard and filled it for Cooper. Then he filled his own cup. Then, to Cooper’s surprise, he put cream and sugar on the table, along with a spoon. And he sat down.

Cooper didn’t really know where to begin. “Mac said you’ve been hanging around the bait shop for a few years now.”

Rawley nodded.

“Where did you work before that, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Odd jobs. Here and there.”

“And lived here with your dad?”

He shook his head. “I just got reconnected with my dad four years ago. Ben forced that issue,” he said, naming their late friend.

“Where were you living before that?” Cooper asked.

“Here and there.” Cooper decided to wait him out. He sipped his coffee, excellent coffee, and just didn’t speak for a couple of the longest minutes of his life. “I didn’t get on with people so much after the war,” Rawley said. “It wasn’t like now—folks didn’t celebrate Vietnam soldiers too much. Made a person want to disappear. That, and bombs going off while you sleep—makes a man just want to be alone.”

PTSD issues, Mac had said. “Understandable,” Cooper said.

“I stopped by to see my dad sometimes. Just for a day or so, every few years or so, but not for long. I had burdens. You know.”

“I know,” Cooper said. And he thought, there are so many of us. Men without strong attachments who just wander. Cooper didn’t have PTSD issues that he was aware of, but he still felt like a loner often enough. And, like Rawley, after leaving the service he hadn’t gone home to his family. He’d kept moving.

“My dad used to fish off Ben’s dock,” Rawley said. “He’d have a shot of Wild Turkey sometimes before heading home. Ben found me. I hung out with a couple of vets around Eureka, not too far from the VA. Sometimes if we needed something, like food or money to eat, the VA was as good a place as any. Used clothes, too. Then Ben said my dad was doing poorly. He hadn’t been fishing in so long, Ben checked on him and my dad couldn’t get himself upstairs to go to bed most nights so he slept in the chair. Ben said my dad needed help. He said he’d give me a part-time job if it could be worked out.”