“Go to bed, Jim. I don’t think this is something we need to worry about.”
~ ~ ~
But she thought about it before she fell asleep. Was that what had been bothering Ken lately? Why he seemed so distracted? She didn’t want to think about that, either. I thought he got over his infatuation with Wendy years ago. There were those other girls he was interested in while he was in school and I thought that girl in college might be the one. Certainly since Wendy and Frank got married. I’ll have to talk to Wendy the next time she’s here.
23.
On Saturday morning, Laura Boutelle received a call from Julie Harris. “I hope this is your weekend off.”
“It is. Thank goodness. What’s up?”
“Pete got four really good tickets to that folk concert at the Center in Manchester, you know, that national tribute to Peter, Paul, and Mary that’s been sold out for weeks.”
“How did he manage that?”
“Some kind of promotion at work and he lucked out. It’s not really Pete’s kind of music, but it is mine. Would you like to go?”
“Love to. I haven’t been up there for years, and I know it has a new name. Who else is going?”
Julie hesitated a moment. “Rich Summers. Pete thinks he needs a night out, something like this. Says he’s alone too much. Would you mind?”
“No, I like Rich. What I’ve seen of him, and that wasn’t under the best conditions. And he probably does need a diversion. How’s he doing?”
“Pete says he’s improving, cheering up a little. We’ll pick you up around five, go to dinner, then the concert.”
Laura thought about it after she put the phone down. From comments Sue had made, she realized Rich did need to get his mind off his situation and have some fun. She recalled him from high school as being quietly sociable, friendly toward everyone. He’s an interesting person. I’d really like to get to know him better.
She considered her own long working hours and almost non-existent social life. And I need somebody, too.
The evening had some interesting possibilities.
She considered what to wear—I do want to make a good impression—and decided on a long beige skirt and a flowered short-sleeved blouse, dressy but casual. She was ready when Pete and Julie arrived for her and stepped into the rear seat beside Rich. She settled herself, accepted his help locating the seat belt receptacle which had slipped behind the seat. Their fingers touched during the search and neither pulled away. She smiled at him in apology but didn’t think about it.
“Sorry ‘bout that,” Pete said. “People don’t ride back there very often. It’s usually just full of stuff.”
“We found it,” Rich told him. “We’re safely buckled.”
Laura watched him obliquely during the ride, decided that he was really quite good-looking, as she had remembered him, maybe not movie star handsome, but he had a pleasant open face. She liked the way his dark hair curled around his ears and over his forehead. He spoke little, but he had a nice, rather deep, voice, one she could imagine his students listening to.
But he looks like he really needs somebody. Maybe I can get through to him. Help him a little. And not just as a nurse. She considered that thought. I will have to wait and see what develops.
~ ~ ~
Pete had made reservations at a popular steakhouse for dinner and they would not have to wait for a table. He and Julie chose one side of the booth, while she slid into the other side, and Rich joined her. She glanced at him as she picked up the menu. “You do look a lot better than the last time I saw you. Not even a scar on your forehead.”
She had noted that he had a cane with him in the car but he did not bring it into the restaurant. He walked carefully, limped a little, but it was not really obvious. He must be working at that. He probably finds it embarrassing.
He glanced sideways as her with a slight smile. “I feel better, too.” He opened his menu. “I don’t think I thanked you for being so nice to me.”
“Isn’t that what nurses are for?”
“I was a bit of a mess,” Rich said. “Not my usual condition.”
“We all do that sometimes,” Pete said.
The waitress appeared, and Laura asked for iced tea, the others for coffee.
“So,” Pete said, filling a silence when she had gone. “How’s the job with the little toys?”
Rich laughed, but not with much amusement. “I have a new job, at that plastics place outside of town. Better pay, more responsibility.” He sighed. “A little more respectability, maybe.”
“A job is a job,” Pete said. “Money is always good.”
“Yeah.”
“You have to begin somewhere,” Laura told him. “Get accustomed to the new you, and work your way back to what you were.”
“I don’t think I can do that.”
“Never give up. Who knows what will come along?”
He turned his head enough to face her and met her eyes. He had very nice eyes, golden brown and expressive. Smiling at him, she said, “There is always hope for the future, Rich. And we’re here to help you. That’s what friends are for.”
She wondered if the question in his eyes was, Are you a friend?
“Thanks,” he said. “Sometimes I forget that.”
Impulsively, she put her hand on his and squeezed lightly. “We’re here to remind you, Rich. You aren’t alone.”
He looked at her hand on his without commenting and she returned to her menu, taking it in both hands and wondering at her action. It wasn’t something she usually did. “Have you been here before, Pete? What’s good?” I’ll have to watch myself. He’s affecting me and I don’t know where this will lead. And where do I want it to go? Do I want it to go anywhere? I’m as bad as Sue.
“It’s one of our favorite places,” Julie commented. “The steaks are great, but I usually go for the roast beef.”
“There is really too much to choose from.”
“Be daring,” Rich suggested. “Try something totally new. Me, I’m going for this tenderloin.”
She thought, You aren’t trying anything new, but she didn’t say it.
The awkwardness of the moment passed and Laura relaxed. “So, how was it you got these tickets, Pete? I heard the concert was sold out two days after they went on sale.”
“Luck of the Irish. The concert promoters were looking for sponsors and provided some tickets when the boss came through, like he usually does. They’ve done it before but I never snagged any. Not to any of the places I really wanted to go.”
There was a moment of silence and Laura sensed an underlying tenseness, a topic of conversation being carefully avoided, and guessed it was baseball, or maybe sports in general. They can’t even talk about the Red Sox and the Yankees. “So what is it you do in your new job, Rich?” she asked. “Nothing that will strain your knee?”
“No, it’s still mostly sit down, but I’m working toward quality control or something like that. I’ve moved up a rung.”
“Ah,” Pete said. “Management.”
Julie laughed. “Pete doesn’t like management. Except the team’s, of course. Laura, have you seen tonight’s program?”
She shook her head. “I like all their music. They were one of my favorite groups.”
The conversation drifted to popular music and their meals arrived.
Laura was conscious of the man beside her, his masculinity, a kind of natural magnetism that was attracting her, but he seemed unable to truly relax, and she wondered what she could do, should do. He seems like a really nice person. He’s a professional, has a good reputation as a teacher, one who gets really involved with his students. He shouldn’t shut himself away from all of that, even if he has to change his focus a little. Doesn’t he have family who can help him? Have they all des
erted him? I’ll have to talk to Pete. Keeping her voice casual, she asked, “Where are you living these days? Isn’t it hard to get to work without transportation?”
“I have a little apartment down town.” His attention was on his meal. “I’ve been taking the bus but I was cleared to drive and now I have a car.”
“Where’d you find it? The car, I mean.”
“My brother drove me around looking. We found a pretty good second-hand Focus. He’s the motor expert, not me.”
“I thought his expertise was bulldozers and excavators,” Pete said.
Rich laughed. “That, too, but he convinced me I needed a car that was easy to get in and out of. You know I like sports cars, the kind you climb down into.”
Laura found his laugh warm and hearty, and sensed a good relationship with his brother. So he does have some family. Good.
“Like that old green Miata you had in high school,” Pete said, “before you decided as a professional man you needed something more prosperous looking.”
Rich sobered, the light moment gone.
Laura wondered what he had been driving the night of the accident.
“I think we’d better get going if we’re going to find parking,” Julie said, breaking the silence.
~ ~ ~
The concert was all that Laura had hoped for, including all her favorite songs, even “Puff the Magic Dragon.” The trio, whose names she could not remember, was very good, but she wished they were the real singers, the originals. She sat beside Rich, watching him enjoy the music and appreciated his casual comments, remembering the classic protest songs. He appeared to almost fully relax.
They sang along with most of the audience to “500 Miles” and “Blowin’ in the Wind.” Rich smiled his appreciation, remembering “Leavin’ On a Jet Plane,” “Where Have All the Flowers Gone?” and clapping with “This Land is Your Land.”
“They bring back memories,” he said, and Laura agreed, thinking, He seems almost happy. At least relaxed.
~ ~ ~
When Pete brought her home, Rich asked, “May I call you? Maybe do dinner? Talk about high school or something?”
“Of course. Do you still have my cell number?”
“I do.” He squeezed her fingers lightly as she got out of the car. “Thanks for the evening, Laura.”
“It was fun. Take it easy, Rich.”
“I’ll try.”
She watched Pete drive away, the warm glow of Rich’s presence still with her. I hope he calls me soon. He really needs somebody. And so do I.
24.
Almost midsummer. Perfect middle-of-June weather, beach weather, baseball weather. Ken Weston’s road project at High Meadow was underway, on schedule and going as well as he had hoped it would. He found an efficiency apartment where he could stay during the workweek, although it was not very comfortable and certainly not very attractive. His father was still involved with several smaller projects, tying up loose ends and mostly leaving him alone, for which he was thankful. Ken had encountered a number of glitches that needed to be worked out and he preferred to do it himself, in his own way. This is my job.
Susan was usually free on weekends and they were settling into an agreeable routine. They talked several evenings a week and he drove south on Saturday morning to go over the High Meadow project with his father. He then spent the afternoon and evening and much of Sunday with Sue. They had meals together, went to movies or to events she learned of, lectures and music. He could see no problems in the immediate future.
It’s time to bring her home to meet the family. He had, so far, said little about her, justifying to himself that he was rarely home as a reason. It was still so unbelievable that he had found her.
He began looking around casually for a place to live, somewhere he could invite Sue. He needed a place of his own. To go with my new status in the company. Be totally on my own.
He had never felt the need before, there was no reason to leave home, but now there was Sue. And maybe, one of these days . . . Sometimes he thought that far, the two of them married. Usually he didn’t. It was too soon. But he needed a place of his own.
However, on this beautiful Saturday morning, he needed to do something about Rich, get him out of the funk he was in, get him back into the family where he belonged. Laura was certainly helping by going out with him occasionally. Sue said their friendship appeared to be growing stronger, getting more intimate, but she had gotten few details from Laura. She said she didn’t want to pry, to sound too nosy.
Ken thought he had found a way to do it, to show Rich what he needed to do, and Sue had agreed he should try.
“No effort is wasted,” she told him. “And he does need some help. I feel so sorry for him.”
Ken called Rich at mid-morning and found him at his apartment. “I have to go to Fitchburg. Like to ride along? It’s a nice day.”
“Sure, why not? I have nothing else to do.”
When he was settled in Ken’s Blazer, Rich said, “I haven’t been in Fitchburg for a long time. What’s there?”
Ken wondered if Rich was remembering the baseball games he had played there against the Pit Bulls, one of the Wolverines’ long-standing rivals. “A company’s going out of business, selling off their equipment. Dad wants me to go look at a couple of backhoes and trucks, see if he wants to bid on them.”
“Not my thing. I don’t know anything about loaders, back end or front end.”
Ken laughed. “No reason you should. It won’t take me long to look at them and they probably aren’t anything we want, but it doesn’t cost anything to go look.”
Rich stared out the side window and lapsed into silence, but he turned back before Ken had formulated a casual question, some way to change the conversation.
“How are things with Wendy?”
Ken released a long breath. “I haven’t seen her since that night at the theater. Except once she and Frank came to dinner.”
“That must have been fun.”
Ken laughed. “Frank doesn’t change. Too wrapped up in whatever it is his company is doing.” He added after a long moment, “She hasn’t accepted me and Sue as a couple.”
“She will. She’ll have to.”
“Yeah.” There was nothing else he could say.
~ ~ ~
The stop at the equipment yard, as Ken had promised, took only a short time. Rich walked around the fenced yard with Ken, working the stiffness from his leg even a short ride could cause, but not really seeing the collection of road building equipment. They got back into Ken’s car.
“Like I said, nothing here we want. It’s all pretty old.”
“Let’s get some lunch. I could use some coffee.”
“Sure.”
Ken turned south, opposite of their way home. After a moment, Rich asked, “Where are we going?”
“Another stop while we’re here.” He was beginning to doubt the wisdom of this move. It had been Pete’s idea. He drove to the small ballpark without elaborating and found a parking place.
“The Wolves are playing the Pits,” he said, holding his breath a little. “Let’s go watch for a while.”
Rich looked at the park gate without moving. “No. I can’t.”
“Why not? What harm will it do to watch, talk to some of your teammates? They ask about you.”
Rich shook his head. “I can’t. It’s all over. I can’t play anymore.”
Ken released a long breath. “All right, Rich, I was wrong to suggest it. Wait here and I’ll go leave word for Pete we won’t be joining him after the game for lunch.” He climbed out of the Blazer. “He’ll be disappointed.”
“Tell him I’m sorry, but I just can’t.”
~ ~ ~
Rich sat alone when his brother had gone, the mute
d sounds from the park a drum beating in his head. His hands were trembling and cold sweat ran down his face. He wanted to run, get as far away from the remembered sounds as he could, but his legs wouldn’t work. He closed his eyes but he couldn’t close his ears.
“Rich?” a deep voice from beside him said.
He opened his eyes and saw the tall graying man watching him through the open car window. He managed a faint, “Hello, Mr. Levi.”
“Ken says you’re not coming into the dugout. The guys will be disappointed.”
“I don’t think I can.”
“I do. And I think you need to.”
His voice was quiet, persuasive, full of authority as it was during their practice sessions. Rich had admired Bert Levi’s coaching skills for a long time and had tried to emulate them in his own coaching, and he could not refuse him now. He climbed stiffly out of the car, forcing the spreading sickness down inside, but it settled in the pit of his stomach.
Rich followed the coach into the old ballpark. It had once been attached to a small high school that had been consolidated into a larger one. The school was now offices and the field used mostly by Little League. They passed the weathered wooden bleachers and ducked into the dugout. Around him, he could feel the tension of the game, smell the popcorn and the hot dogs. His former teammates were concentrating on the play but a couple glanced his way and smiled.
The tightness was building in his chest and suffocating him. “No, Mr. Levi, I can’t. It hurts too much.”
“Of course you can. Come on.”
Rich shook his head. He had to keep his dignity, not break down. “Tell Pete I’m sorry. I can’t do this. It will make me sick.” Rich scuffed his feet as he turned to escape. “I’m sorry.”
The coach said nothing and did not follow him. Rich found it easier to breathe when he was back in the parking lot.
Ken caught up with him before he reached the Blazer. “Rich, I’m sorry. We thought it would help, that you would see, once you were here, when you talked with the guys after the game, that you can come back, in some capacity, even if you can’t play. They really need a catching coach.”
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