AT THE END of their workout, after the girls stretched on the playground, Jessica asked Dean if he would mind dropping her off at home, because she lived close by. The other girls had already squeezed into See-See’s car anyway.
“Sure,” Dean said. “I had no idea you lived around here.”
Jessica shrugged. “My parents finished the house last year.”
Her house was at the end of a long, winding dirt road that was the driveway of either someone very poor or someone well-to-do. Jessica’s family obviously fell into the latter category. Built on a slope, the front part of the house was raised up on tall sturdy posts, with a wraparound front porch overlooking the valley. Its architecture was modern, all angles and windows. Jessica’s mother came out onto the porch to greet them.
“Hey, honey!” Mrs. Markham called. “I was just about to leave to pick you up.” She waved to Dean. “Come on up, let me get you an iced tea.”
Dean and Bryan followed Jessica through the garage and up a set of narrow stairs, which led to the kitchen, a large marble-and-stainless-steel affair that opened onto the living room.
“Would you prefer hot tea?” asked Jessica’s mother. She was a redhead, like Jessica, but the color was softened by strands of gray, and her hair was cut in layers to frame her face. “I can make some, it’s no trouble.”
“Iced tea would hit the spot, thank you.”
Mrs. Markham prepared four glasses of iced tea, dropping a slice of lemon in each. It was unsweetened and slightly bitter. Dean worried that Bryan would complain, but he said nothing. He seemed awed by the large living room with its vaulted ceilings and high windows. There were oversized pots and vases everywhere, and after a few minutes of small talk, Dean learned that Mrs. Markham was a potter. Her studio was below, next to the garage. Behind the house there was a kiln. Jessica’s father worked for the Department of Labor and commuted into Washington three days a week.
“What made you decide to live all the way out here?” Dean asked.
“It’s just so beautiful. And it didn’t hurt that there’s a golf course right down the street. I love that you practiced there. Jess, did you tell Coach Renner about all the times we left you there last summer?” Mrs. Markham smiled at Dean. “It took us forever to build the house, and we kept dropping her off at the pool while we argued with contractors. Poor thing had to do all her summer reading in the clubhouse.”
“It wasn’t so bad,” Jessica said. She was blushing.
“No, there was that sweet woman who worked there. I can’t remember her name. But she started doing all the same reading as Jessica and then they would discuss it. You two had your own little book club. It was so nice.”
Jessica’s expression was pained, and all at once Dean understood that the sweet woman was Nicole. But it was clear that Mrs. Markham had no idea. Dean was glad she had no idea; he needed privacy to absorb this new glimpse of Nicole. He couldn’t really imagine it; he didn’t remember her as a reader, it was just something she did before bed. More than anything, he was embarrassed by the idea of his wife striking up a friendship with a sixteen-year-old girl. It wasn’t something a happy, busy adult would do.
“Whatever happened to her?” asked Mrs. Markham. “I don’t think I’ve seen her there for a couple months.”
“I don’t know,” Jessica said. She glanced at Dean apologetically — a look that gave a glimpse of the adult she would become.
NIGHT FELL QUICKLY as they drove back to the school, and Dean sped along the hilly roads, trying to return in time to pick up Robbie from his play practice. He kept trying to attach some meaning to Jessica’s connection to Nicole. If Jessica’s family hadn’t moved there. . If Nicole hadn’t worked nearby. . If he hadn’t started coaching cross-country. . If, if, if. . Then what? Then nothing. His wife would still be dead; he would still be lonely; Jessica would still be the same sensitive girl, gifted in all areas except the ones that could make her a great athlete.
When Dean pulled into the school, he found Robbie sitting outside with a bunch of the theater kids. Robbie was wearing some other kid’s hat, a kind of newsboy cap. His jean jacket was draped over his shoulders like a cape. He looked grown-up, confident, expressive — like the boy Dean had seen, briefly, onstage. Dean felt a profound sense of disconnect. He called to Robbie and watched as he removed the borrowed cap and wriggled his arms back into his jacket.
ON THURSDAY, THE girls had a dual meet, at home, which Megan won easily. The team won, too. It was their first win and it was an easy one, even a predictable one, but it wasn’t a win they could have pulled off at the beginning of the year. They were no longer the worst team in the county. The race ended on the track, and the football team stopped their practice to watch the finish. They whooped and hollered for Megan, who seemed slightly alarmed by the attention and only ran faster.
“I see you found yourself a ringer,” Garrett joked.
“Yeah, I guess you could say that,” Dean said, willing himself not to say something snide about the poached baseball player. “You ready for homecoming?”
“Don’t worry, we’ll win. I won’t spoil the dance. Are you going to be there?”
“Yeah, I’m chaperoning.”
“Me too — with Connie. I’ll look for you.”
With only two teams competing, the race was over quickly, and both teams headed to the gym to stretch. After the opposing team left, Dean gave the all-clear and the girls let loose, doing cartwheels on the basketball court. Above them, blue and white balloons were hanging from the rafters, already tied into place for tomorrow’s pep rally. Dean watched See-See execute a series of round-offs, throwing her arms back, Mary Lou Retton style, after each one. With her hair growing out, and with her small sturdy body, she actually resembled the gymnast a little bit. She’d done well in the race, coming in third overall and second for the team. Dean was glad she’d gotten the win. He felt, in a way, that the team wouldn’t exist without her, because she was the one who’d kept after Aileen and Lori over the summer — Jessica, too.
“Hey, See,” he called to her. “Come here a minute.”
See-See eyed him and came over, reluctantly.
“Girls, I want you to give a round of applause for your captain, See-See Coulter—”
“See-See Meyers,” she corrected.
“Oh, right, I’m sorry,” Dean said. “This girl is the one who led you to victory. She’s the one who kept this team together when you didn’t have a coach. And she’s the one you should thank next year when you start placing at the big meets.”
The girls clapped and whistled, but See-See shrugged it off. Dean sensed she was embarrassed, maybe even a little sad, so he called for a hell yeah as a way of keeping things light.
“You have tomorrow off,” Dean said. “And as you know, there’s no meet this weekend in advance of Regionals. But you need to run on Saturday and Sunday. So take it easy tomorrow night, okay? Don’t stay out too late.”
“We won’t!” they promised.
And Dean knew that, unlike the football players, they wouldn’t.
THE NEXT AFTERNOON one of the cheerleaders delivered a boutonniere for Dean to wear to the dance. It was a white carnation dipped in blue dye and tied with a blue ribbon that said Go Eagles in cursive script.
The phone rang and it was Laura. Her tone was cold and businesslike, but he couldn’t help feeling soft toward her. He tried to tell her that he’d just been thinking of her, but she cut him off.