“Not right now,” she repeats to whichever of the girls is asking the question. For a change, it isn’t Amanda.
“Wow, what a Grinch.” This time, it is Amanda, and while the word Grinch is innocuous in the grand scheme of things a fourth--grader can call a teacher, it throws Rowan right back to the snow day again.
This is ridiculous. It’s consuming her life, and it has to stop.
You have to confront Rick. Better him than Jake.
For now, she stashes the gift bag in a desk drawer where it won’t distract the class—-or her.
Bob Belinke should have been taxiing down a runway hours ago. Instead, he’s in a taxi at the airport and heading in the wrong direction.
As much as he loves the Manhattan skyline looming in the gray shroud beyond the cab’s furiously swiping windshield wipers, he’d prefer to be headed home to the tropical sun. He’s chilled to the bone and his skin is leathery after alternate blasts of wet cold wind and dry overheated air.
He spent enough years working in aviation to have anticipated travel complications when he heard the snowy forecast last night. Strong wind and an inch or two of snow are more than sufficient to snarl air traffic at JFK, but he was hoping for a mere delay. Unfortunately, the inbound flight he was supposed to board was diverted by a mechanical problem. Rather than hang around the airport all day hoping to squeeze onto another flight with connections amid residual delays, he opted to rebook for tomorrow morning.
Maybe it’s just as well.
Now I can call Rick and make sure he’s okay.
He’s been concerned about his old friend ever since they parted ways yesterday afternoon.
“You’ve got to let go of the guilt,” Bob told him on the street outside the restaurant. “It’s going to eat you alive. What happened to Vanessa wasn’t your fault.”
“How do you know that?” Rick snapped. “You don’t, okay? You only know what I’ve told you.”
Bob was taken aback. It took him a moment to figure out what to say to that. “It’s time for you to start healing. Don’t isolate yourself in this. You still have friends, and you still have a family, too, for that matter. Talk to them.”
“Everyone has moved on. No one wants to hear from me.”
“You don’t think your kids would want—-”
“Come on, Bob, you might not be a dad, but you were a stepdad, and you were once a kid yourself. You really think that after all that’s happened these guys will welcome the old man barging in for a good old--fashioned heart--to--heart? They’ve picked up the pieces and moved on, and they’re busy with lives of their own. Vanessa’s kids have jobs, and my kids are in the middle of finals, and none of them want to hear from me right now.”
“They might surprise you. But I’m here for you if you want to keep talking. I don’t have to be anywhere this afternoon.”
“I do.”
Bob refrained from asking where; refrained from saying anything more than “Call me if you need me. Anytime.”
Rick said that he would, but he won’t.
That’s okay, Bob thinks as the cab enters the Manhattan--bound lanes on the Van Wyck Expressway. I’ll call him, as soon as I get back to the hotel.
After getting the kids off to school early this morning, Noreen crawled back into bed. She meant to snooze for another fifteen minutes, but fell asleep for a -couple of hours. Now she wakes up to the sound of the housekeeper vacuuming down the hall and is glad she’s in the master bedroom this morning. Otherwise, if Kevin were home, Luz might have found her in the guest room down the hall, where she’s been spending some nights lately.
If the housekeeper is aware that Noreen’s perfect life has fallen apart, she hasn’t mentioned it. Still, she must have noticed someone’s been sleeping in the guest suite whenever Kevin isn’t doing an overnight shift at the hospital. Noreen is always careful to remake the guest bed when she gets up in the morning, but she can never get the coverlet to lie as smoothly as Luz does. When she slips back in at night, she often finds that the sheets have been changed.