“I don’t even believe this is happening,” Mrs. Beck said. “He’s my little boy.”
“I know,” Katie said, but she didn’t want to imagine what it felt like. It was what all the parents did. Nearly every time Devon threw herself into the air, Katie had to fight off logic. But sometimes, still, she’d stop breathing. Like she had all those years ago, the whir and screech of the lawn mower. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Beck.”
“Call me Helen,” she said. “You knew my Ryan?”
“Not that well,” Katie replied, a twitch above her brow, “but I liked him.”
“I could tell by your face during the sermon.”
“What?” Katie felt her face warm. “I…”
“I only visited Ryan once since he moved here.”
“Airfare is so expen—”
“I don’t know anyone here,” Helen said, swiveling a little, looking around helplessly for a place to set down the plate. “This house is so big, and I don’t know anyone. And it’s not very…friendly.”
“What do you mean?” Katie asked.
Helen leaned closer, only the paper plate between them.
“I’m not sure they want me here,” she said, lowering her voice. “I—”
“Katie!” It was Molly Chu, charging toward her, Cheyenne’s little brother tangled between her legs. “I thought I saw you.”
Suddenly, Katie was surrounded by boosters—Jim Chu, balancing a plate of food, hovered after his wife. Kirsten Siefert, Bluetooth forever hooked to her ear. Becca Plonski, gesturing with the same celery-stalk wrists that plagued her daughter, Dominique, clinging to her side.
Turning back, Katie saw Ryan’s mother was gone, only the scent of hotel soap and ChapStick remaining.
“Katie! Where’s Eric?”
“I sent him two e-mails about the practice situation. Do you know if he got them?”
“We’re running on one car,” Katie said. “He wants to be here.”
The surprise and confusion on their faces struck her, confirmed that it was surprising, and confusing. Eric never missed anything.
“He’s going to try to make it,” Katie said, all eyes still on her. “You know Eric.”
There was nodding, and Jim returned to the smeary chicken leg on his plate.
“Is he coming later?” Gwen asked. “Has he heard anything about the investigation?”
“I’m going to pay my respects to Teddy,” Katie said, turning. The investigation.
The front door swung open, the sunlight tearing their eyes.
“Have you seen Teddy’s new deck?” Gwen said, sunglasses dangling from her hand. “I mean, have you seen it?”
Following the sound of Teddy’s voice, Katie made her way to the back of the house.
That Foghorn Leghorn voice, lungs filling, each word a hard push from an organ bellows.
But whenever he yelled at the girls (Stick it, lick it, no weak stuff!), which was a lot, though never at Devon, not in years, you always felt it came from love. He reminded Katie of the uncle on that TV show her mother always adored, the bachelor uncle saddled with three kids, always rubbing his face like a weary, loving giant.
She found him in the den, in front of the gold-veined mirror tiles flanking the fireplace, his shoulders sunk, face wrung like a graying dish towel behind the perennial tan.
He was looking out the picture window, talking into his phone, his jaw clenched.
“Well, you upset her …I’m telling you, we’ll get her there. But we’ve just had the goddamned funeral.”
Discreetly, she moved away, nearly stumbling over Tina Belfour, paper towels in hand, scooping Jell-O salad off the lemon-colored rug.
“I’m sorry, Mama T.,” heron-necked gymnast Shailee Robins said, shaking her head. “Everything’s terrible now, forever.”
“Hey,” Eric said, his voice tinny on her phone, “should I still try to come?”
“No.” Sliding open the glass door, Katie stepped onto the old back porch, empty and forlorn now. “I don’t want to wait. I knew you wouldn’t come.”
“What? Katie, I promise I didn’t know it would take so long.”
“Forget it. It’s just…sad here. And strange,” she said. “I’m leaving soon. The Hargroves are driving Devon from practice. I’ll see you at home.”
After she hung up, she stood for a moment, the babble and hum of the reception muffled behind the patio doors, looking out onto the swimming pool, its magnificent opal surface. No one knew how Teddy could afford such an opulent addition to his already opulent home. It was probably a tax write-off for BelStars. He’d always understood the importance of show. Smile, smile, smile at those judges. Devon, you do know how to smile, don’t you?
Besides, the pool was how Hailey had met Ryan. He’d been working for Deep End Pool Service, the prelude to digging the BelStars pit and, finally, the job with Gwen.
Diving to the bottom, he’d rescued Hailey’s infinity-knot necklace from the drain.