The Shortest Way Home (43 page)

“Yeah,” she said. “They’re pretty handy.” He could hear the smile in her voice, which was mortifying in a thrilling kind of way.

“So, it’s okay I called?”

Another few beats of silence.
Don’t talk,
he commanded himself.
For chrissake, just shut up and let her answer.

“Yeah.” It wasn’t an open-arms response. But he felt she meant it, and that was enough.

“I got that job,” he said. “The sub-nurse thing at Kevin’s school.”

“Is that what you wanted?”

“I think it’ll help him, having me nearby. Also, I could use the money.”

“Is Haiti expensive?”

“No. I mean, I have no idea, but it’s not like you spend a lot of money doing that kind of work. Are you . . . um . . . maybe thinking about what I said? About coming with me?”

He could hear a little puff of a sigh.
Don’t sigh!
he wanted to tell her.
Just say
yes!

“I thought about it,” she said. “I really did. And it means so much to me that you asked, Sean. It kind of blew me away.”

“I meant it. I want you to come. It’d be amazing.”

“I don’t . . . I think it’s not . . .” Her voice was shaky, and it hurt him to hear her that way. “I’m trying really hard to live my own life, Sean. You know how I am—you know better than anyone. I get pulled into the slipstream of other people’s ideas so fast. You were the one who kept pushing me to stop following everyone else’s agenda and do what
I
want to do.”

“Yeah, but if you want to come to Haiti with me, that’s doing what you want to do! It doesn’t matter if it was my idea.”

“But I don’t.”

In the seconds that followed, he could feel his chest expanding and contracting. It was sort of like meditating, feeling the breath, his mind empty. And yet it was the opposite of meditating. There was no floating. Only crashing.

“I want to be with you,” she whispered, her voice weak with emotion. “But I don’t want to live in Haiti.”

“Rebecca—”

“I have to go now, Sean.” Then there was a soft click.

For the briefest moment he had this crazy thought that as long as he held on to the receiver, she might still come back on the line. Once he hung up, he would lose her completely.

No . . . Hell, no.
He hung up the phone and got the car keys.

CHAPTER 52

“W
ho is it?” she said when he knocked on the door. He could tell she’d been crying, and that she was pretty sure who it was.

“It’s me,” he said through the door.

“If you came over here to try and change my mind—”

“No, I didn’t, I swear.”

“I’m finally getting it right. You
made
me, Sean. I didn’t even want to at first.”

“I know.”

“I ordered business cards . . .” He could tell she was starting to cry.

“Show them to me.”

“Go home, Sean. Really.”

“I’m not going home. Please just let me come in.”

“No.” She was really crying now.

A sick, hopeless feeling grew in his gut. And guilt. He had pestered and cajoled her into pulling her life together on her own terms. But that seemed like a hollow offering, now that she was sobbing behind a door he couldn’t open. In frustration he grabbed the knob and twisted. It turned easily.

He came in and put his arms around her, and she continued to cry. He found himself rocking her. And though she still cried, he didn’t feel sick anymore. He felt enormous relief and even a little bit of hope. He kissed the top of her head and gently brushed her teary cheek.
Holding her is like a drug,
he thought.
And I am an addict.

* * *

T
he sex was tender and sad, and neither of them could sleep afterward. She lay on her back and he on his side, head propped on one arm, the other arm around her waist. They looked at each other for some minutes. And then she smiled and said, “It’s kind of like watching something fall, and you know it’s going to shatter, but it hasn’t yet, and you keep hoping it can defy gravity somehow.”

“So that’s a definite no to Haiti, right?”

She punched him, but she was laughing.

“Seriously,” he said. “What if we just hung in there? I mean . . . unless you’re with . . .”

“No,” she said. “I’ve spent time with him, but at this point I’m just seeing if we even have a friendship.”

Sean nodded. It was all he could do not to pump his fist in the air and yell
Woo
-
hoo!

“Listen,” he said, when he felt like he could talk without a victorious giggle sneaking out. “I’m not going anywhere for at least another six weeks—that’s October. I already promised Kevin I’d come back for Christmas. Long distance sucks, I know, but it’s not impossible. Maybe you’d even come down to Haiti and visit.”

The smile on her face receded again. The obvious question hung in the air, unspoken.

And then what?

* * *

H
e slunk back into the house like a cat burglar just as the sky was starting to lighten. George growled from her post by Aunt Vivvy’s bedroom door and then put her head back down, too sleepy for a full-scale rebuke.

When he woke up, the sun was dappling through the leaves, and the breeze coming through the window felt crisp and dry. Autumn air. Sean hadn’t experienced a New England fall in twenty years, but he recognized it before he even opened his eyes, the August Autumn Appetizer. It would get hot and muggy again, of course, before the cooler weather set in for good. But lying there in bed, he was thrown back to his childhood, and he could feel school coming, as unstoppable as the changing of the leaves.

He got up and called the middle school, and they put him through to Penny Coyne, who was getting the nurse’s office ready for the first day. “You’re definitely coming, right?” she said.

“Absolutely,” he told her. “Did you think I was iffy about it?”

“Not at all,” she said quickly. “I just didn’t know if . . . your plans might’ve changed.”

“Nope, I’m ready to report for duty.”

“Any chance you can come down today?”

Mondays were Rebecca’s day off, and he had hoped to spend it with her, but what was he going to say, “Ready to report for duty . . . but not really”?

Kevin padded barefoot and pajama-clad into the kitchen just as Sean was hanging up. The outer edges of the scrape on his cheek had begun to fleck off, leaving spots of tender pink. “Who was that?” he asked.

“That was my new boss.” Sean told him about the six-week sub-nurse assignment. He never bargained for the look of horror on Kevin’s face.

“You’re going to be there? At my
school
? Like, every
day
?”

“Geez, I thought you’d be glad!”

“Why would I be
glad
? Everyone’ll know we’re related—it’s weird!”

“Oh, for crying out loud,” said Sean. “I’m sorry to be such an embarrassment.”

“It’s not
you
. It’s just, you’re like a . . . a parent or something. Nobody wants their parent at school. It’s creepy!”

Sean drove to the middle school, muttering to himself. What the hell had he gotten himself into? He didn’t want this stinking job, he’d only done it for Kevin, and the kid was acting like he’d be showing up to work in a Speedo and high heels.

He found tiny Penny Coyne dwarfed even further by teetering mountains of files. Though it was only ten-thirty, she looked as if she’d accept a cocktail if someone offered. Sean felt a momentary temptation to walk out and never come back. “How can I help?” he said.

“Oh, you can’t do anything,” Penny sighed. “Subs can’t touch the files, it’s a confidentiality thing. But thanks,” she added. “They just wanted me to get your paperwork started and give you a little run-through on protocol before school starts on Wednesday.”

She gave him the work forms to fill out and toured him through the supplies and the emergency card drawer. “This is the only file you’ll have access to. When a kid comes in with any kind of allergic reaction, or, say, if a parent needs to be called, you pull his card. All the information you need should be right on there.”

Around noon, Penny slid some files onto the floor and spread out her lunch on the desk. She handed him half her tuna sandwich. He politely declined, but then she said, “Seriously, take it. I rarely eat a whole sandwich even on a good day.”

“So,” said Sean, after he’d polished off the half sandwich, most of her cucumber slices, and all of her cookies. “What do I really need to know?” She glanced at him. “Come on,” he said. “There’s official protocol, and then there’s all the little unwritten shortcuts. I won’t be here long enough to figure them out myself, and it looks like your hands will be pretty full.”

She smiled and nodded. “Okay. The real job? It’s about figuring out what’s true and what’s adolescent BS. Does the kid have conjunctivitis or is he high? Are the girl’s cramps really a ten on the pain scale, or is there a French test she’s blowing off? And then there are the frequent flyers—the kids who don’t even have much of an excuse, they just need a dose of nurse attention to make it through the day.”

“That’s kind of a drag, huh?”

“Yeah, but think of it this way—they could stop in here, or they could go smoke cigarettes behind the cafeteria Dumpster. Personally, I’d prefer to have the nurse’s office be their drug of choice.” She nibbled at a cucumber slice. “Can I tell you something?”

“Sure.”

“Stan Girardi was worried about hiring you because you’re a man. We’ve never had a male nurse before. You can see how parents might feel a little funny about their sweet innocent daughters getting their spines checked for scoliosis by a guy.”

Sean nodded. “I get it. And not like this means anything, but just for the record, I like adult women. Period.”

“It would help if you were married and had kids of your own.”

“Hey, plenty of pedophiles are—”

“I know. I’m just saying what makes people feel more comfortable. I don’t get a sketchy vibe from you, otherwise I wouldn’t have pushed for the hire. But please, for everyone’s sake—yours most of all—keep the door open, and don’t have physical contact with a student unless you absolutely have to.”

“But you’re around most of the time, right? It’s not like I’d be alone with kids that often.”

“Lead nurse is an administrative position. I’ll be going to meetings and chasing paperwork around the main office a lot of the time. Believe me when I say, of the two of us, you’ve got the better job.”

* * *

O
n Wednesday, Kevin took the bus to school.

“This is silly,” Sean told him. “I’m driving right there.”

Kevin refused even to consider it. As Sean pulled into the parking lot, he saw Kevin step off the bus he’d boarded forty minutes earlier. Kids were hanging out the windows calling to one another. Kevin had that squinched-up, pre-freak-out look on his face. He’d never ridden a bus to school before—he lived close enough to Juniper Hill Elementary to walk.

Poor kid,
thought Sean. It was tempting to catch up with him and say something encouraging, but Sean knew it would only make things worse.
Hang in there, buddy!
he called out silently. And to his brother he prayed,
Toss him a few times. He’s going to need
it.

The nurse’s office looked like a ticket window at a Red Sox game, with kids lined up out the door, and Penny Coyne standing behind the desk collecting emergency cards and medication forms. The crowd cleared by the time the first-period bell rang. There was a brief lull, and then kids began to trickle in again. A nosebleed, a stomachache, a weird pinching feeling at the back of the neck that turned out to be the kid’s shirt tag. Sean snipped it out with scissors and sent him on his way.

“The kid’s got sensory issues,” he murmured to Penny.

“Don’t we all,” she told him.

A girl came in with the most gorgeous pale blond hair and light blue eyes Sean had ever seen. “Frequent flyer,” Penny whispered as the girl approached the desk. “Hi, Amber,” she said.

“Hi, Ms. Coyne. I don’t feel that good.”

“This is Mr. Doran. He’s the new me and I’m the new Ms. Krasmus until she gets back.”

“Uh, okay.”

“Mr. Doran, can you help Amber? I have to run these forms over to the office.”

“Sure thing,” said Sean. “Amber, why don’t you tell me what’s up.”

The girl took a moment to look him over, and when she was done, he felt as if he’d been taken apart, inspected for parasites, and put back together again. “I don’t feel that good,” she said, as if this were new information.

For the next five minutes, Sean asked questions about where the pain was and how it felt, and Amber gave answers like “kind of” and “a little.” Finally, she said, “Can I just lie down?”

“Should I call your parents?”

“No.” And she went to one of the sick bays—a vinyl-upholstered cot with a sheet of exam paper over the pillow area—and pulled the curtain closed. At one point, he peeked in to check on her and she was just staring straight ahead.

Three headaches and a kicked shin later, Amber got up, signed out, and left.

When the last bell rang, Sean could say this for his new job: the time passed quickly and it was, in fact, easier than filling complicated drink orders at the Confectionary. At least for him.

When he got home he changed into shorts, checked on Aunt Vivvy, left a message for Rebecca inviting her over for dinner, and went out on the porch to wait for Kevin. He put his feet up on the railing and paged through the latest edition of
The Journal of School Nursing
Penny had given him. He’d read the articles on trichotillomania (pulling out one’s own hair), identifying lice, and the signs and symptoms of sexual abuse by the time the bus stopped up the street. When the engine idled, Sean could hear the yelling and horseplay reverberating out the bus windows. Kevin got out and trudged up to the house; when his foot hit the first stair, tears came leaking down his face. Sean followed him up to his room.

Kevin lay on his bed with the pillow over his head, weeping. Sean spread the weighted blanket over him and sat in the desk chair. After a few minutes, Kevin quieted a little and took the pillow off his face.