Katie moved over to the screen door, so close her earlobe pressed against its mesh.
“Drugs. He was just a kid. An arrest for possession, no charges filed. Petty stuff.” Listening, Katie felt her eyebrows lift in surprise. “But it makes you wonder. I always had one eye on him. For Hailey.”
“You have to be that way,” Eric said, shifting in his chair. “You have to protect them.”
Teddy nodded, pointing a finger at Eric, like That’s right, that’s right.
“We do. And like my own granddad used to say, if you get down to the nub of it, people don’t change.”
That’s not true, Katie thought. Not at all. Everyone changed, all the time. That was what was so hard.
As if sensing her at the screen door, Eric waved her outside eagerly.
She walked over and when Teddy looked up at her, she could see the measure and breadth of his face under the bug-eyed security light, a look of such weariness, hollowed-out dismay.
With both hands, she grabbed for one of his massive shoulders, rubbed it. She’d never seen Coach T.—or any of the strong, durable, steadfast men she’d known—like this.
“Oh, Katie, thank you, honey,” he said, smiling up at her. “I’m sorry to be taking up your night. Sorry to be…”
His voice drifted helplessly into nothingness, and Katie felt her eyes filling, though it was too dark for anyone to see.
It was after ten, Eric and Teddy still talking outside, when Katie peeked behind her daughter’s half-open door. At her desk, Devon was leaning over her book, Physics Principles and Problems, brow wrinkled, face close enough to touch the pages.
“It’s all so strange, Mom,” she said, not lifting her head, her earbuds dangling. Katie hadn’t even realized she’d seen her at the door.
“Which part?” Katie said, stepping inside quickly.
“Everyone at the gym was saying things today.” Devon looked up, her earbuds sliding off. “I hope Coach hasn’t heard what they’re saying.”
“What do you mean? About Ryan?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “Is it true the police are interviewing people?”
“What?” Katie said. Interviewing people. This was new. “That’s their job, honey. Who told you that?”
“I don’t know. Lacey Weaver, I think. I was trying not to listen.” She flexed her thumbs, staring down at them. “I’ve completely lost my double Yurchenko. My turnaround is pathetic. There was just so much noise.”
“People are going to gossip. Don’t listen. Just keep your focus. Like you always do.”
“That’s what Dad said.”
“You already talked to him about this?” Feeling a twinge.
“Yeah.” She tapped her highlighter on the edge of her desk for a second. “He said he saw the spot it happened. On Ash Road.”
Katie looked at her. “He told you that?”
“He seemed freaked out by it. Is he okay, Mom?”
Katie felt herself taken aback. “Your dad? Sure he is, honey.”
They looked at each other for a moment, then Devon’s eyes darted away. Katie tried to hold on to a thought she had, something about how Eric sounded on the phone earlier, but couldn’t.
Then, realizing: “Devon, are you okay?”
“Everything feels different.”
Katie reached out to touch her shoulder. It was the most Devon had talked to her about anything other than gymnastics in so long and it made her want to throw her arm around her daughter, do something. With Drew it was so easy, Drew who would still rest his pelted head against her when he was tired, asking her questions until her head ached from them.
She wanted the moment to last, to deepen.
“Honey, did you…did you like Ryan a little?”
There was a brief silence, the only sound a pop in Devon’s jaw, gum between her teeth. The highlighter rat-a-tatting on the pages of the book.
Then—“What? No. That’s not what I’m talking about. I’m worried because qualifiers are—who said that?”
“No one. I…”
“Boys don’t look at me,” she said, uncapping her highlighter pen briskly. Straightening her back.
“Honey, that’s not true,” Katie insisted. “What—”
“Did someone say something to you, Mom? At the gym? Because the girls there are all…you know how they are.”
And she did. They talked about Devon all the time, speculating and watching and wondering. Whenever she appeared in the local paper, they pored over the article for clues. Whenever Coach T. pulled her aside, they tried to eavesdrop, to hear what he whispered in her ear and what she whispered back.
Still, Katie felt like she’d struck a nerve, the mortification of having someone stumble upon a secret feeling.
“But, honey, if you did, it’s nothing to feel bad about,” she said gently. “I’m sure half the girls at the gym did. He was so good-looking and nice to all of you. It’s only natural—”