“Is there anything I can do?” Cooper asked.
“I got it, Cooper. If you’re still in the area, you’re welcome to attend. And I understand completely if you’d rather not. It’s entirely up to you. Service at St. Bethel on Anniversary Avenue and at 2:00 p.m. an open house at the Cunninghams’. And of course, I’ll have the test results forwarded to you.”
“Thanks. And Spencer, I’m sorry, man.”
“We had some good years,” he said. And then he said goodbye.
Cooper knocked around for three days. He drove to Ft. Hood and although he wasn’t allowed on the post, he did visit some of his old stomping grounds—bars and restaurants he’d frequented when he was there. He went to the San Antonio River Walk and the Alamo, wishing Sarah was with him. It was no surprise that he remembered being on the walk with Bridget, eating at a sidewalk café, drinking beer or a latte at a small table on the walk, watching people and boats pass by.
He booked a flight back to Eugene for Tuesday morning, but he didn’t go to the service on Monday. The memorial was for family and close friends; he didn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable. Instead, he pressed his suit and dress shirt and went to the Cunningham house at about two-thirty.
There were cars parked all the way down the street and he caught sight of a couple entering the house, carrying what appeared to be a covered dish. Sitting on the front step with a baseball and glove was Austin, looking real down in the dumps. He went to the boy, sat down beside him and asked, “Hard day, huh?”
The boy shrugged. “It sure ain’t no fun in there.” He looked up. “I’m waitin’ for my dad. I mean, my other dad.”
“I bet he’s kind of busy today.”
Austin looked up at Cooper and identical brown eyes connected. “Did you ever wish’t you married my mom?”
Cooper was stunned by the question, then wondered why he’d been surprised. Chances were good there would be lots of questions like that. He decided on honesty. “I did,” he said. “It took me a long time to see that Spencer was the better man for her. He was ready to settle down, like your mom was. And I was sorry I wasn’t ready for that kind of responsibility. I might’ve lost out, but at least you didn’t, Austin. He’s a good guy.”
“My mom said you’re a good guy, too.”
Cooper shrugged. “I’m better now than I was ten years ago. Older. Smarter a little bit. Want me to throw that ball around with you?” he asked, nodding at the ball.
“You’re all dressed up for church.”
Cooper took off his jacket, tossed it on a bush and rolled up his sleeves. “I can adjust.”
“’Kay.” Austin jumped up and ran to the other side of the lawn, throwing Cooper the ball. “Were you mad when my mom told you? About me?”
“Nah,” Cooper said, throwing it back. “Best news I had all day. All month.”
Austin grinned. “You don’t live around here,” he pointed out.
“No, I live in Oregon.”
“My dad says we need to get to know each other. How we gonna do that?” he asked, throwing again.
“Well, we can talk on the phone. Maybe we can Skype. I can visit sometimes.”
“Can I visit you?”
“Fine by me, but we have to go slow. I think your dad is going to want to check me out, make sure I’m safe.”
“Right,” Austin said. “Make sure you’re not a perv.”
Cooper smiled, thinking of Landon. “I have friends you’re going to like. My girlfriend’s brother is sixteen, a quarterback, plays some killer football. My girlfriend is a Coast Guard search-and-rescue pilot.”
That stopped Austin. “She is?”
“She flies a helicopter. Oh, I live on the ocean. I have a Jet Ski.”
“Really?” Austin said, frozen for a moment.
“Really.”
“Do you have a family?”
“Parents,” Cooper said. “No wife or ex-wife or kids. Sisters and their kids. And Sarah, my girlfriend.”
“Would they be my family, then?” he asked.
“I guess so.” Then he grinned. “If your dad decides I’m not a perv.”
That made him laugh. “Your sisters would be my aunts.”
“Correct.”
“I have plenty of those,” he said with a sour face.
“I know the feeling,” Cooper agreed.A man cleared his throat. Spencer was leaning against the side of the house, watching them, a half smile on his face. His sleeves were also rolled up; his tie was loosened.
“How long have you been standing there?” Cooper asked.
“Long enough to hear the Jet Ski bribery.”
“Well, since I’m not good at homework, I had to have something in the plus column. I also have a Rhino and a Harley.”
“A Harley? Aw, man!”
“Pretty underhanded,” Spencer said. “I have a canoe.”
“Dad! A Harley!”
“I heard, Austin. Well, I guess if you have to have two dads, at least one of ’em has a Harley.”
Ten
Ashley ended up staying in the hospital for almost a week. Five days, which was three longer than she had planned. The extended stay was largely to regulate her very mild anti-anxiety medication as well as to give her the benefit of inpatient group therapy. The doctor decided she wasn’t suffering from clinical depression, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t all worked up about the events in her life. The kids in her group were sympathetic and an odd thing happened—she found out that lots of outcasts had been harassed in this way, through texts, social media, bullied by whatever means available. Before now, Ashley had never considered herself an outcast! The fact that she was considered this way only by Downy and his girlfriend didn’t make it any easier to bear. It was shocking and revealed an entire universe to her that she’d never thought herself vulnerable to.
Going back to school was scary, even though her mother got her a new cell phone with a secret number and promised to rescue her immediately if there was any trouble. And even though Eve had her own issues with her mother’s surprise return, she was still standing beside Ashley’s locker, ready to be an escort and loyal friend. Landon was with her, of course. They’d brave being late to their classes just to make sure Ashley didn’t have any trouble in the halls.
To her surprise, Frank Downy appeared after third period one day. “I’ll get you to class whenever I can—we have a couple together.”
“Frank, you don’t have to,” Ashley said.
“And if I want to? You shouldn’t have had to put up with any shit because of Downy. Sometimes I just can’t believe him....”
“I don’t want to say anything bad about your brother,” she said.
“You don’t have to. Just in case you wonder whose side I’m on, wonder no more. He’s a dick and everyone but Mom is real pissed off at him for what he did to you.”
At the same time he was talking to her, Ashley wondered when Frank’s complexion had cleared up. When did he start to shave? In fact, hadn’t he been shorter than her? When did all this happen? Because she had known him since they were about five, too.
“Come on,” he said, grabbing her elbow in a gentle escort. “History is next for us.”
Then she realized he wasn’t wearing his glasses. He’d always worn thick glasses, which had given him such a bookwormish look. She stopped suddenly and looked at his face. “Frank, did you have LASIK surgery?”
“Contacts,” he said. He looked down at her. “I’ve had ’em about a year.”
She was completely embarrassed. “I’m sorry, Frank. I didn’t realize...”
“You’ve had other things to think about,” he said, pulling her along to class.
Indeed. She’d thought of no one but Downy for longer than she could remember. She was confident it hadn’t kept her from being a good friend to Eve, but there was probably a lot going on in school that she had been too distracted to notice.
They were almost to class when some boy she didn’t even know very well said, “Hey, Ash, nice tits!”
In a flash, Frank was on him like a hound and shoved him against the lockers. Frank’s forearm pushed against the kid’s neck. Frank had muscles on his arms. From the look on the kid’s face, this was a surprise maneuver. “Apologize,” Frank ordered.
“Sorry,” he said. “Just kidding.”
“No more kidding,” Frank warned, releasing him.
Ashley was rooted to her spot, stunned. When had Frank developed shoulders?
“Um...thanks,” she said.
“No problem. Let’s go,” he said, steering her down the hall, around the corner to their class.
When she went to her group therapy later that week, she briefly wondered if all teenage support groups looked the same. Someone was having problems with their parents, there was a substance abuse in someone’s situation, another kept getting in trouble in and out of school and was in danger of being expelled, one was being bullied, another girl’s boyfriend dumped her, rather cruelly. Mostly it was social issues these kids couldn’t cope with any better than she had. But no one in her current outpatient group had spent time in the hospital and they were all anxious to hear everything.
The one thing she wanted to tell them that seemed even more important was what she discovered when she went back to school. The fact that Downy’s younger brother, so gentlemanly and protective, had been completely invisible to her before her breakdown, and suddenly she saw a new Frank. Somewhere in the past year or two he’d grown up, grown tall and strong. “If I stop to think about it, Frank has always been a good friend. I’ve had to call him about homework and he talks me through it. He’s so patient and never gets tired of explaining things—he’s nice to everyone. He used to get picked on, but Downy was a great bodyguard so people left him alone. But he’s not one of the jocks—he’s going to be our valedictorian, everyone knows it. He’s the smartest guy in our class. Maybe in the county.”
“Is he a nerd?” someone asked. In fact, that was Bradley, who was a thick-glasses nerd.
“I used to think so, but he’s all grown up now and I think maybe he’s a Bill Gates.”
“Bill Gates is a nerd.”
“Okay, but nerd or not, any girl would date Bill Gates because of his huge brain. And Frank is confident. He doesn’t care what anyone thinks of him—they’ll all eventually ask him for help on their calculus.”
“But he’s the asshole’s brother!”
As if she needed reminding. “Well, I’m sure he loves his brother, but he doesn’t seem to be a big fan of Downy right now,” she said. “The thing is—I still cry. I’m not going to make a fool of myself by calling Downy and I think he’s a total jerk, but if he came crawling back all sweet and sorry, I’d probably give him another chance.”
“May I ask a question?” Burt, Simone Ross’s associate and the group leader, asked. Burt was a lot younger than Simone, a man in his late twenties or early thirties. Talk about a nerd. He was kind of on the homely side, very thin with heavy dark brows. Ichabod Crane-ish. Aside from keeping them on track and maybe asking a question or two to get them started, he didn’t say much. Sometimes he took notes, but she saw the page of his steno pad once and it was filled with doodles. That gave Ashley more peace of mind—at least he wasn’t writing “this one is crazy as a loon.” Burt was growing on her. In the same way she finally noticed Frank, she was starting to see handsomeness in kindness and intelligence.
“Sure,” she said.