CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

“YOU REALLY BELIEVE BRUCE DANIELS IS TRYING TO HELP YOU?” Jess’s bicep flexed as she shook the salad dressing. “After everything—Dr. Garvey, Toby’s tutor, my signature?”

“I don’t know,” he said, and watched her twist her hair into a knot. He wanted to pull it loose, run his fingers through it. “He said he was going to take action, find out who signed your name. He sounded like he meant it.”

She poured the dressing on the greens and frowned. “So I’m the skeptic in the relationship. Interesting.”

“I’ll admit that’s usually my role,” he said. Were they in a relationship? It had a nice sound to it. “But I’m happy to give it up this time.” He turned down the flame under the sauce and drained the tortellini in the sink. “You should look at the reports.”

She took them to the couch, tucked her legs under her, and started reading. “I’ve never seen statistics like this.”

“Maybe you should hold off on quitting.” He sat down beside her and handed her a beer. “Until Daniels gets some answers.”

“I really don’t want to be the next Debbie Martin.” She sighed. “I tried to talk to Bev, but she’s in Minneapolis at some conference.” She sniffed the air. “Is something—”

The sauce. He’d turned it down, but not far enough. The apartment was starting to fill with smoke. She followed him into the kitchen where he took the pot off the stove and cursed it.

“I’m willing to see what Bruce Daniels comes back with, but when something feels this wrong …”

“What’s burning?” Toby asked, emerging from his room, nose wrinkled.

“Dinner.” He put a new pot on the stove. “Give me a few minutes.”

“Are you staying?” he asked Jess, a sweet, hopeful expression on his face.

“Only if we can do some more math after dinner,” Jess said with a wink.

He nodded vigorously. “I think I’m getting good at word problems.”

“I think so too.”

“We have brownies for dessert.” He fanned away the smoke. “And they’re not even burned.”

“How can I resist an invitation like that?” She smiled a smile that must have made more than a few eight-year-old boys fall madly in love. Can you show me where everything is and I can help set the table?”

Toby led her to the cabinet as if she were the student, giving her detailed instructions about which plates to use and which to avoid. He took extra time with her, the way a teacher might.

While Sean improvised new pasta sauce, he watched them setting the table. They had an easy rapport. For a moment everything made sense, the three of them here together. He realized the clenching in his chest he’d had with Ellie was a mere memory.

“Okay,” he called from the kitchen. “Non-burnt sauce is ready. Let’s eat.”

“Yes!” Toby ran to the kitchen to get his plate. “I’m starving.”

“Me too,” Jess said, serving them all big portions.

“Where did you grow up?” Toby asked, when they were sitting at the dining room table.

“A town called Westerly,” she said. “It’s in Rhode Island.”

“That’s the smallest state.” Toby smiled.

“You were paying attention in social studies.”

Toby tried to hide his joy at the praise. “What’s Westerly like?”

“I loved growing up there. In the summer I used to go to the water slide for hours. Or my parents would take me to the carousel—the old-fashioned kind with the flying horses. Sometimes we’d go to paint-your-own pottery and make cool stuff. Plus, they make amazing ice cream there.”

“I love ice cream.”

“Do you know how long it takes to drive from the south end of the state to the north end?” she asked.

“Five hours?” Toby guessed.

“Only an hour.”

“That’s how long it took to go to Coney Island on the subway.” He considered this a moment. “Do your mom and dad live there?”

“My dad does.” Sean saw a sad smile flicker across her face. “My mom … she died last year.”

Toby looked at Sean, not sure what to say, then turned back to Jess. “How’d she die?”

“Tobe …”

“What?”

“Maybe Jess doesn’t want to talk about it.”

“It’s okay,” she said. “She was sick for a long time. Her heart wasn’t strong …”

“I’d be so sad if my mom died,” Toby said.

“You don’t have to worry about that for a long time,” she said.

“You can remember your mom,” Toby offered. “That way it’s like she’s with you. Kind of.”

“You’re pretty smart.”

“I think of all the fun things I did with Calvin.” He shrugged. “But it still makes me kind of sad when I remember I can’t see him.”

“Yeah … I know how that is.”

When the phone rang, Toby jumped up and ran into the kitchen to answer it. “Mommy!” he said. Ellie was right on cue for once, thank God. “Nothing … eating dinner. My teacher is here.”

Toby’s account of making brownies with Maureen went into great detail and soon became happy white noise in the background.

“Sorry,” Jess said. “Maybe I didn’t need to tell him about my dead mother.”

“I’ll throw a few extra dollars in the therapy jar.”

“I’ve got to get a grip.” She held her head with her hands.

“He’ll be fine.”

“I keep thinking my mom would know what I should do. Between what Dr. Garvey told us and all the school crap, my head is spinning.”

“And your breakup,” he said. “Don’t forget the breakup.”

She smiled. “I haven’t forgotten. Trust me.”

“You going to give me details, or am I going to have to beat it out of you?”

Her laugh was sudden and full. An unexpected gift. “I didn’t know you were so interested in the gory details.”

“Clearly you’ve forgotten where I work.”

“Reader’s Digest version: He called me every disgusting name you could think of and threatened me by saying I’d used up my last chance with him. Which came as a huge relief, honestly. I shoved some clothes in a duffel bag and went to Bev’s.”

“You should not be staying with Bev.”

“She’s my godmother.”

“You should stay with me.” He glanced at Toby who was still having an animated conversation with Ellie. “With us.”

“I’m okay over there.”

“Let’s go get your stuff.” He couldn’t believe he was saying it, but he loved the idea.

“But …”

“I hear we’re in a relationship,” he whispered. “So it’s fine.”

“I don’t think everyone here needs to know that.”

“We’ll be discreet.” Was he pleading? And was that wrong? “I’ll sleep on the couch. Or it’ll appear that way.” He reached for her hand under the table. “Move in with us.”

“What if we get on each others’ nerves?” she asked. “What if I snore? What if you leave goop on the toothpaste tube? That could kill a budding … relationship.”

“Impossible.” He took both her hands now. “I want to be with you. As much as humanly possible.”

“Me too,” she said, though she didn’t have to because her eyes said it for her. “But Toby …”

“I saw the way he was looking at you. Trust me, he’ll be with me on this.” She still looked like she was on the fence. “Besides, he needs all the tutoring he can stand. Headmaster’s orders.”

She considered this for a moment. “Okay,” she agreed. “For now.”

All he heard was yes and it made him so happy he thought he might float out of his seat. “So Bev’s out of town?”

“Til tomorrow night.”

“After I put Toby to bed I’ll call Gloria from upstairs. We can go get your stuff.”

“Tonight?”

He didn’t want to let a day go by, now that it had been decided. “Absolutely.”

When Toby was asleep and Gloria was zoned out in front of Project Runway, he and Jess snuck off to Shineman’s apartment.

The boxy two bedroom was depressing, bland, uninspired. Jess had been staying in the second bedroom, which Shineman had turned into a home office. The open futon banged up against the desk chair, making it impossible to sit at the small desk. There was a foot of space on either side of the mattress, a bookshelf on one side, and a small closet on the other.

“I don’t have much here,” she said, pulling clothes from hangers and shelves and shoving them in a duffle bag. “I’ll grab my toothbrush and we can get out of here.”

She ducked into the bathroom and came back a moment later, toothbrush in hand. “Ready.”

He reached out and touched her hair. She relaxed, stepped closer to him until their faces were millimeters apart. It was the first kiss since they’d decided to move in together, and it was charged with possibility. How could he be in a room with her that was mostly bed and not pull her down onto it?

She’d unzipped his pants and he was fumbling with her bra when they heard the key turn in the lock. “Shit,” she yelped, feeling around on the floor for her shirt. He zipped up and crammed himself in the corner between the computer desk and the bed.

Jess smoothed back her hair just as the front door opened.

“Aunt Bev!” Jess said, trying not to sound like she’d been moments from getting laid.

“Hi Jessie.” Sean couldn’t see her from his hiding place, but Shineman sounded tired.

“I didn’t think you’d be home ’til tomorrow.”

“I came back early,” Shineman said. “I hate those things. Do you want some food? I can order something.”

Sean pulled his legs in tight, the way he did when he played hide and seek with Toby.

“Have you … have you been drinking?” he heard Jess ask her godmother.

“Of course not.”

“I can smell it.”

“Oh for God’s sake, Jessie. I have not been drinking.”

He could hear it clearly now: Bev was slurring.

“Okay.” Jess’s tone said she didn’t believe a word of it. “Okay.”

He knew he’d smelled it on Shineman’s breath. This was the woman responsible for the psychological well-being of hundreds of children—for his child. He wanted to strangle her.

“Can I talk to you?” Jess was saying.

“Can it wait until tomorrow?” Shineman yawned. “I was thinking of taking a bath and getting into bed.”

“It’s pretty important.”

“It’s been a long day.”

“Someone signed my name on Toby Benning’s Conners scale,” Jess said.

“I don’t know where you get this stuff,” Shineman said. “I’m going to run a bath.”

He heard Bev take a few steps toward her bedroom.

“It was your handwriting.” Jess hadn’t mentioned this damning piece of news to him and he wondered if she was bluffing.

The footsteps stopped and Shineman groaned. “Okay. Sit.” He heard them walk to the living room. Shineman sighed and collapsed on the couch. “You know you’re making something out of nothing, right?”

“Did you sign it or not?”

“Sweetie,” she started. “Why do you think you were hired?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean we both know you don’t technically have the experience to be a head teacher at Bradley. I knew you could do it, Jessie. I vouched for you. But I knew there would be hurdles. I said so your first day. I also said I’d help you out.”

He wondered if Jess would take the bait.

“I didn’t give you permission to forge my name.” She was saying the right words but her voice was suddenly smaller.

“Had you ever filled out a Conners scale?” Shineman pressed.

He strained to hear.

“Answer me, Jessica.”

“No.” Jess answered.

“I’ve done several hundred,” Shineman said. “That was something I could help you with. I’ve been observing Toby for years. My filling it out was the responsible thing to do. So don’t go painting this as some malicious deed.”

His legs were cramping up. He stretched them out carefully, but there wasn’t enough room. He bumped the chair and it skidded three inches on the wood floor and thudded against the leg of the table. He froze.

“Why did you want Toby Benning on medication?” Jess raised her voice, possibly to cover up the racket he was making. “He didn’t need it.”

“Whoa,” Shineman said dramatically. “Who says Toby Benning didn’t need medication? He was diagnosed with Attention Deficit.”

“Because of you.”

Shineman chuckled condescendingly. “That’s quite a theory.”

Sean exhaled slowly, his heart hammering away against his ribs.

“And it doesn’t paint me in a very flattering light,” Shineman complained. “I am—and always have been—an advocate for children. I think medication helps most of the children who take it. And I think it helped Toby.” She paused. “Occasionally one of them has a bad reaction and we take them off it. It’s that simple.”

He squeezed the leg of the desk hard, imagining Shineman’s neck instead. There was nothing simple about having almost killed Toby.

“Look,” Shineman was saying. “About a third of Bradley students excel there. Another third get by. With help. But the others … the school moves quickly.”

“But—” Jess tried.

“The curriculum is accelerated. We have to help these kids feel good about themselves, allow them to focus on the work so they can succeed.” She paused. “Don’t you think they deserve that chance?”

“A chance to learn that drugs will solve all their problems?” Her anger was escalating and so was her register. “A chance to die from taking a drug they don’t need?”

“Here’s the thing about Bradley.” Shineman was getting calmer as Jess became more agitated. “Some of these kids would be fine going without the meds at other schools. They’d be fine. But at Bradley … they need help.”

His tongue tasted metallic and he had too much saliva in his mouth. He tried to breathe, but it came out as a rumble.

“We have the best SAT scores, the best college acceptance rates,” she went on. “Our chess team has won the national championship ten years in a row. Our debate team rips all the others apart. We have the newest and best technology of any school anywhere and kids who know how to use it. A Broadway show could go up in our theater it’s so well—”

“I don’t give a shit about the theater or any of that other crap.”

“Barack Obama spoke at the Bradley commencement last year, for God’s sake,” Shineman spat out. “We are the best of the best. I’m doing what I can to keep the standards of the school high.”

“Stop it,” shouted Jess. “Stop justifying it.”

“Boys are put on ADD medication every day all over the country,” she said. “This is no different. So please, stop making it sound so sordid. I’m just helping to insure that no child falls through the cracks. The health of the school depends on an ultra-high level of achievement. Our kids can do it. It’s inspiring.”

“So why the hell are you drugging them?”

He strained to hear, but all he could hear was Shineman breathing angrily.

“Kids are fidgety,” she said sharply. “They can’t sit still long enough to learn everything they need to learn every day. I’m just helping to make sure that down the road a huge, and I mean huge, percentage of our students will end up at Ivy League schools and go on to lead exciting, rewarding lives.”

The pause drew out for a full fifteen seconds, which felt like hours from his cramped corner.

“Who else knows about this?”

Shineman pushed air heavily out her nostrils. “You’re not paying attention to what I’m—”

“I’m paying closer attention than anyone else at Bradley. Who is making you do this?”

“No one’s making me do anything,” she said. “I’m just supposed to guide parents toward the right decision. That’s all.”

He was so furious, he hardly noticed the pins and needles pricking his dead legs.

“But … why?”

She let out a heavy, defeated sigh. “It’s not like I have a choice.”

“That’s bullshit. Of course you have a choice.”

“No. I don’t. Jessie, I’ve had a hard time … your mom … she was my best friend.”

“My mom?”

Another sigh from Shineman. “When she died I slipped a little.” A foghorn sounded as she blew her nose. “I just needed something to get me through.” She sniffed miserably. “I loved her too.”

Sean rolled his eyes.

“Don’t use Mom as an excuse for falling off the wagon. She’d despise that.”

“Bruce found out, and …”

“Found out? You were drinking at school?”

“I don’t need a lecture. I’m just giving you the facts. I need to do everything I can to keep my job.”

“Is that the most important thing? What if Toby had died?”

“I don’t see Toby’s parents complaining,” she snipped. “I wasn’t the one who gave him the medication. They did.”

It took every ounce of self-restraint he had not to storm out of the guest bedroom and rip Shineman’s head off.

“And what about Calvin?” Jess was yelling. “You killed Calvin.”

“Shut your mouth,” Shineman hissed. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. I don’t kill children.” He heard a quiver in her voice. “I help them.”

He wondered if she’d convinced herself this was true or if she was simply so deep into the lie she couldn’t get out. She’d just confirmed that Bruce Daniels was involved. Not only wasn’t Bruce looking into the forgery, he’d set it up. His stomach twisted.

“You have to stop,” he heard Jess say.

“Jessie, I won’t sign your name anymore, okay? I promise. Just don’t mention this again. Ever.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Trust me,” her voice was desperate. “I’m not kidding.”

“But you just told me … you admitted—”

“You know what?” Shineman’s pleading tone had changed. “I don’t think this is going to work out after all.”

“What?”

“I’m giving you two week’s notice,” she said. “Effective immediately.”

“You’re firing me?”

“I made a mistake. You’re not a good fit with the school.”

“But, what—you can’t just—”

“I can. And I am. I’ll tell Bruce you had a family emergency. It’ll get you out of your contract—a clean break—so you can get another teaching job.”

“But—”

“This is your out—an out most of them don’t get.” Her use of “most of them” filled the room with the ghosts of past teachers. Good teachers like Debbie Martin. “You should take it. Let me protect you.”

Jess was silent. “Okay,” she said, finally. “Two weeks. That will give me time to tie up loose ends, say goodbye to the children.”

“This is no joke.” Shineman’s tone sent a chill through him. “Go and don’t look back. Leave town. You can still get out of this without becoming a casualty if you do what I’m telling you.”

Shineman went to bed and Jess found Sean in the guest bedroom. “Could you hear?” Her eyes were huge and her whisper was charged.

“Every word.”

“Go home, call your sister. Find a lawyer.”

“But you just told her you wouldn’t talk about any of that.”

“I can’t,” she said. “But you can.”

AS SOON AS HE WAS OUT OF THE BUILDING, THE AIR BIT INTO HIS skin. He replayed Bruce Daniels’s lies and dialed Nicole.

“Hello?” Her voice was groggy. He checked his watch.

“Sorry.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I need a lawyer,” he said, and told her why.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” she said. “You need Nina Goldsmith. She does crimes against children, and she’s a bulldog.”

“Nicole …” The word bulldog ricocheted around inside his head. “I don’t really feel like being reamed by Bradley.”

“So what, you want to sit around stroking blue blankie?”

She hadn’t teased him about the blankie in decades. He had a flash of how mad it used to make him. Now, instead, he smiled. “Nah, that’s why I called you.”

“Nina’s good. I’ll ask her to keep your name out of it if she can.”