“Whoa, Michele. What’s the matter?”
“I’m sorry, but I got an emergency call about my son. I have to go.”
“No problem, call us tomorrow and we’ll get you back in. I hope everything’s okay?”
“Nothing is okay. I’ve messed everything up—” I stood on the deep end, ready to jump, then stepped back. “No, no, it’s fine, I just—oh, I just have to go.”
And I fled.
Chapter Fourteen
I ignored the speed limits and raced home. The 4Runner wasn’t there, so I left my Jetta running in the driveway and ran into the house, yelling for Sam. My voice had a crazy ring to it. I gulped. Tension meter at 10. Oh, how I needed Adrian. After more than thirty-five years of competence, I fell in love with the perfect guy and ended up helpless without him. Wasn’t love supposed to make me stronger?
The house was silent.
Sam kept his work and practice schedules on the kitchen bulletin board beside my training calendar. I scanned it. He should be on shift at the pool right now. I ran back out to my car and threw it in gear, calling Robert on the way and blocking the irritation from my voice. I would be mad in his position, too.
When he picked up, I got right into it. “I’m sorry I missed your calls and messages. Yes, we have a problem, and it’s bigger than Sam and me changing the schedule. He promised me he would go to your place before I left Saturday morning, and he didn’t tell me that he hadn’t done it after I came back.” I turned on Rutherglenn and cut the corner so close I hit the curb. I held on and prayed I didn’t pop the tire.
“You’re kidding. Where was he?”
I suspected I knew the answer to that: Sam hadn’t expected to get away with it. He wanted to get in trouble. He was trying to get some attention from his negligent mother, but I didn’t need to share that with my ex. “I’m headed to the pool now to find out. And I’d like to schedule him with a therapist. Losing Belle and Adrian has really done a number on him. I would appreciate your support.”
“You know I don’t believe in all that hocus pocus.”
I didn’t really give a rat’s ass what Robert believed in. I let the silence stretch out. I’d sit on that phone without speaking as long as I had to, but I wouldn’t back down, any more than Papa had when it came to me. I remembered my mother hissing at Papa when she thought I couldn’t hear. “I don’t want you and Isabel filling her head with all that Aztec sacrilege.”
Finally, Robert spoke. “If you think it would help, I will back you. As a last resort.”
Last resort? That would be a fight for another time. I jerked my Jetta into the JCC parking lot. “Fine. I’ll let you know more when I know myself.” I ended the call before he could say anything else.
The lot was jammed with cars and SUVs, and I had to squeeze into an illegal space at the farthest edge. The blacktop shimmered with fingers of heat that reached up and wrapped around my throat, and I gasped. My tension meter redlined. By the time I reached the pool, sweat was pouring down my back and my shirt was stuck to my body.
Sam sat upon the lifeguard stand overlooking the shallow end. When he glanced my way, his jaw dropped and he cut his eyes toward the other lifeguards under a tent nearby. I needed him to hear me, and my emotions were dangerously close to out of control, so I slowed down and breathed in as deeply as I could, stretching my lungs with the heavy, humid air and imagining the oxygen making its way into all the farthest recesses of my mind and body, working magic on me, pushing my stress out through my skin.
Visualize, Michele. Be what you seek.
Tension meter: 9.75.
Imagine Adrian beside you, loving you, supporting you, making it all right.
Tension meter: 9.5.
Sam works here, and his boss and friends will be able to see and hear us.
I walked purposefully toward him but wiped the raw-meat-eater look off my face.
Tension meter: 9.
I made a canopy over my eyes with my hand and looked up at him. “Sam, I need to talk to you.”
He sneered through gritted teeth. “I’m working, Mother.”
My heart ached looking at him. Even when he was angry, his youth and beauty burned my eyes. His skin had turned mocha-colored over the summer. Sun streaks shot through his dark flop of hair. Had I noticed before now? I didn’t think so. “How soon until you can take a break? I’ll wait.”
He looked away. “Crikey, Mom. You’re embarrassing me.”
I put my hand on my hip. “Then find a way to take a break or see if they can let you go for the day, because I’m not leaving until we talk. I’d like for your sake that our chat occur somewhere else, but if not, then right here will do.”
He glared at me but hand-motioned for his boss to come over. The boss was a kid himself. Braces crisscrossed his teeth and acne splotched his cheeks. I moved three steps away. He and Sam whispered, then he walked over to the guard canopy and tapped a short brunette on the shoulder. She grabbed her neon-orange rescue float and whistle and strode briskly but carefully to Sam’s stand like she imagined people were eyeing her. She and Sam exchanged places and he walked over to me.
“Are you on break or done for the day?”
He stared into the distance. “Done,” he said, packing a lot of screw-you into the word.
“All right, then. Let’s take a drive—my car.”
As we walked in silence, I rehearsed what I needed to say and prayed I could find a better mother than the one I had been in the last few weeks. And I fumed. Fumed at Sam, myself, and fate. Fumed at Adrian. Why hadn’t he been looking where he was going? Couldn’t he, with all his athleticism, have hopped out of the car’s way? Why didn’t he wear his damn helmet? Didn’t he know I couldn’t live without him? If he knew, if he cared, he would never have been that careless. He would never have let this happen. Damn him.
Sam chuffed. “What?”
“Nothing.” I turned my key in the door, then jumped in and turned on the lights as the horn honked. Sam slammed the trunk and got in his side. I backed out of my no-parking spot and a minute later turned east on South Braeswood.
“Where are we going?”
I turned on my signal, checked the rearview mirror, and moved into the left lane. “We’re just going to drive, Sam.”
His right knee bounced up and down. “Are you going to give me a clue what this is about?”
“This is about a lot of things. One thing it’s about is that you didn’t spend the night at your dad’s this weekend. Another is that last week, someone saw a passenger from your car buy drugs behind the Chevron and get back in the 4Runner with you. Another is you lied to me and the police about where you were when Adrian died. And another is that you have been rude and disrespectful to me for quite some time now. Which one would you like to start with?”
I glanced over and saw him tighten his lips. Deep furrows appeared between his eyebrows. The knee sped up.
I turned left on South Rice without using my blinker. “Your dad and I can only assume you wanted us to know about Saturday, since you didn’t do anything to try to fool him. You just no-showed. So where were you?”
His knee was still bouncing. He tossed his head to flip his bangs off his face. “I stayed home.”
“By yourself?”
Long pause. “No, a couple of guys came over.”
I didn’t press, because his answer felt like progress. “You don’t have permission to have friends over when I’m not there, but we can talk about that later. You promised to be at your father’s house, and you didn’t tell him you weren’t coming. I’m glad you’re telling me now, but why didn’t you tell one of us this from the beginning?”
He kept his eyes straight ahead. His whole body jiggled from his bouncing knee. Mumble mumble mumble.
“What’s that?”
“I’ll ask next time.”
Yes, this definitely felt like progress, no matter how small. I inhaled long and exhaled longer. “Detective Young came to see me. The police know you lied to
them.”
Sam shifted his eyes to me then back to the front so fast I almost didn’t see him do it. “I—” He stopped and looked down. The left knee started keeping pace with the right one.
I stopped at the red light at Beechnut, then turned on my signal and followed it to the right. Within seconds we were nearing Meyerland Plaza and passing Endicott, and my heart leaned so I turned right without thinking. “Do you realize how much trouble you could be in, lying to the police? Luckily, Billy and his father gave you an alibi. But then, I’ll bet Billy already told you that, didn’t he?”
“Yeah. I knew he would, though, because I didn’t do anything wrong.”
I laughed with no mirth. “You skipped practice and you lied. Lying to the police is a crime, Sam, and it made them put you at the top of their suspect list when they should have been looking for the real killer. What the hell has gotten into you?”
He snorted and looked at the passenger window. “You caught me. I lied. I skipped baseball practice. I’m a terrible person.”
I pulled to a stop at the four-way crossing at Endicott and Jackwood. “Watch it, Sam.” I accelerated through the intersection and rolled past the spot where Adrian died. Nothing marked it. Just an asphalt street and a concrete curb next to a mostly empty parking lot. My heart hollowed out, collapsed in on itself. Time slowed down while it refused to beat. I was fighting with my son on sacred ground. I couldn’t bear it. I cried out, and my heart started beating again.
Sam’s voice exploded. “What?”
“I don’t know. I just hurt, Sam.”
“You think I don’t? You’re driving me past where he died. What are you trying to say? Why are you doing this to me?” His cries were as loud as mine now. “I didn’t kill Adrian, Mom. I just lied, all right? I wouldn’t ever have hurt him—or anybody.” He ended on a sob and threw his hands up to cover his face.
I softened my voice. “No, I don’t think you would ever hurt anyone.” I put my hand on his shoulder. We rolled to a stop at another intersection. He said nothing, so I pressed the gas and drove on. “Tell me about the drugs.”
He threw his hands up in the air. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I swear.”
“Detective Young saw you at the Chevron station with two boys. He saw one of them buy drugs and bring them back to your car.”
“If anybody bought drugs, they didn’t tell me.”
I stopped at North Braeswood, turned on my belated blinker, and turned right. I cocked my head and looked at my son. Highly improbable, but possible. And I couldn’t prove it either way. It might be enough that he knew I was watching him now. I would let it go. “My first priority is your health and safety, Sam, and—”
He interrupted. “That’s funny.”
“Excuse me?” The light at South Rice was green, so I turned left on Chimney Rock.
“That’s funny, Mom, because I don’t think I’m anywhere in the top five on your priority list, and I’m sure not the top priority. Your priorities seem to be you, you, you, you, and you, one through five.” His voice got louder. “Your training, your book, your publicity, your sadness, your job, your everything. What about me? Don’t you think I’m sad, too?” He turned to me and screamed so loud his face turned beet red under his summer tan. “Do you even know that I’m still here? They’re gone but I’m still here.” And then he started crying. Horrible sounds, deep wrenching sobs that gouged at my heart.
I reached out to touch him, but he pushed my hand away.
He turned from me and his sobs slowed down just a little. “Don’t try just because I said this stuff. It’s fake. Leave me alone.” He stared out the window. “I want to go home. I want everything to be the same as it used to be. I don’t understand why all of you are gone, not just them, but you, too. It’s worse, because I think you should still be here, but you’re not. You’re not.”
I looked up and realized I had just run a red light, but God looks out for little children and for stupid women who don’t know how to do their lives anymore without hurting themselves and everyone left that they love. This pain hurt in a new way, as bad as losing Adrian, as bad as putting Annabelle on a plane. I was gone. I knew that. I was failing Sam. I had to find a way to make it better, but I didn’t know if I had it in me to be completely present, because I wanted to be gone. I wanted to leave this world and stay in the halfway part with Adrian. I sat there, paralyzed, as the Jetta rolled forward. I said the only things I could think of, the true things, as best I could.
“I’m sorry, Sam. I love you. It’s going to be okay someday, and I know it isn’t yet. I’m doing a bad job for you, but I’m not sure how to make it better. I think we could see a grief counselor, someone who’s done—”
“NO!” he exploded. “You want to push me off on someone else to do your job, so you can say ‘I’m a good mother because Sam talked to a counselor about his feelings,’ and then you show me that you don’t even care about being alive for me? No fucking way, Mom.”
He was right, and I wasn’t sure if I could fix it.
Chapter Fifteen
The next morning I slept in, unable to start my engines, but I had to get moving. I had an eight thirty appointment at Dr. Cooper’s office. I grabbed my phone and noticed the flashing light on my way out the door.
Annabelle. “Michele, r u there? I need to talk to you.”
I’d have to answer her later. I hustled into the clinic, where the receptionist funneled me into an examination room. I sat on the leather exam table and settled in to wait, but Blake came in almost immediately. He wore green scrubs the color of my husband’s eyes.
“Play it again, Sam,” he said.
It took me a moment to understand he wasn’t referring to my Sam. “I sure hope not. Look, I’m sorry. I’m usually pretty reliable. I know I owe you for the missed appointment.”
He held up his hand in the “stop” gesture. “How can you pay for an appointment you didn’t have? We worked you in. And I told you, the first visit’s on me. I hope everything is okay with your son?”
I pulled the blinds closed over my eyes. “Yes, all fine. Thank you.”
Like he had at the park, Blake let me hide. His restraint or professionalism or whatever it was put me more at ease. “Give me the verdict from the orthopedist.” He sat down and leaned forward with his hands on his knees.
“IT band syndrome, don’t run, I’m not a good enough athlete to waste my time on therapy and rehab.”
He sighed. “I’m sometimes pleasantly surprised when surgeons encourage their patients toward a natural healing approach, but not often. Well, we’ll get aggressive with it. You should reduce your training, but we want to have you running at a hundred percent ASAP.”
Before I could ask what he meant by “reduce,” the door opened and one of his female coworkers entered. Athletic-looking and fit, of course, in blue scrubs. And tall.
“Michele, this is Dr. Greene. I’ve asked her to take care of you. Dr. Greene, Michele.”
We shook hands and she plopped a heating pad onto my left knee and thigh. The warmth rushed through me with a sense of peace. Dr. Greene got down to business. My kind of woman. “Tell me about yourself, Michele.”
I started to tell her about my knee pain, but she interrupted.
“Tell me about your lifestyle, your sport, your workouts, that kind of thing.”
I obliged.
She listened like I was telling her the secrets of the universe. “When did your knee start hurting?”
“Well, my husband qualified for an age-group spot at Kona, and—”
She sat up straight. “Oh, wow, what’s his age group, what’s his name? I may know him, that’s so cool.”
Blake moved to cut in, but I pretended it didn’t faze me. “He died in a hit-and-run accident a few weeks ago, but you’re right, it is cool, and his name is Adrian Hanson. He qualified in forty-five to forty-nine.” I sucked in a deep cleansing breath.
“I am sorry, I shouldn’t have—”
> “Please, don’t apologize. You didn’t do a thing wrong, and I’m very proud of him.” I felt short of breath, even lightheaded. This was different from talking about him on TV. Intimate. Harder. “I bought a lottery spot to do it with him. I’m carrying on without him, following his training plan, but I haven’t ever done a full-length Ironman. I’ve ramped up the training hard and fast for this. The pain started about two weeks ago, and it’s gotten worse and worse.”
Blake cut in. “Geez, Michele, it just hit me why I thought we’d met before. I’ve seen you on TV. You guys wrote a book together, right?”
Dr. Greene was nodding, too. “Yes, I’ve got the book. My Pace or Yours.” She smiled. “I follow triathlon, and he’s the local hero, so I have known of him for a while. So you’re Michele Lopez Hanson. I’m really delighted to meet you.”
I fought the urge to fold in on myself. I stayed in the moment. “Thank you.” I even smiled at her and I didn’t turn to stone.
Dr. Greene fixed her blue eyes on me and got down to business. “Any old injuries or accidents, surgeries, lengthy periods of incapacity?”
“Hmmm, well, I sprained my right ankle in my late twenties. Other than that, nothing big.”
She probed my knee with strong fingers, then moved up the outside of my thigh to my hip. Everywhere she touched, it felt like she was prodding it with a hot poker. A wake of red marks trailed behind her hands. “The IT band runs from the knee to the hip. You’re feeling pain when it rubs back and forth around the knee during running, but the problem is in a much bigger area. And you definitely have a problem. Lots of scarring. You must have a high pain threshold.” She looked like that pleased her.
“I guess so.”
She looked at Blake. “Dr. Cooper, I think I’ve got what I need to start with Michele.”
***
Going for Kona Page 14
