Dream Me(44)
LeGrand had stopped by just to say hi because I guess we were buds. But even though he was thrilled at his father’s humiliation, he knew it wasn’t going to end happily ever after. He knew his dad well enough to realize that. But did he know his dad well enough to understand why I undertook that semi-suicidal mission?
After a few minutes, he left, saying he’d be back for Friends later in the day. I obviously didn’t tell him what Bing had just said to me.
I’d call in sick the next day.
__________
After the Friends were done for the day, LeGrand told me he’d gotten Alonso’s address. He’d suggested getting together sometime and Alonso had responded, not exactly enthusiastically, but he hadn’t said no either. Naturally, LeGrand hadn’t mentioned me and Mai tagging along. It was nice to see LeGrand engaged, and he didn’t smell of alcohol that day, but none of it mattered much to me just then.
“I have his address in our files,” I said gloomily. “They have to fill out a bunch of forms when they sign up for the program.”
“But that’s not right,” LeGrand said, ignoring the fact he’d gotten my address immorally. “This way, I have it with his permission.”
Right then, he reminded me of a little boy wanting approval for a job well done.
“Good work,” I said with the last bit of enthusiasm I could fake.
__________
Another late lesson for my dad after work, so I had time to kill when all I wanted to do was disappear from Crystal Point. I decided to work off some energy with another walk, this time heading toward the gate.
The clouds had been dark and noisy all afternoon but they kept rolling through, keeping things cool without getting anything wet. But my luck ran out right when I got to the gatehouse where, thankfully, Earl was still on duty. I ducked under the eave where I stood the first day I met him. We watched the sky split open, loosing rivers of water that were already puddling around my feet. Conversation was useless during storms like those. They were loud and demanding—nature’s divas requiring your complete attention.
When, minutes later, the sky cleared up and the sun came out like nothing had happened, I told Earl I needed to get back to the golf shop. My dad’s lesson would have been cancelled because of the rain and he was probably wondering where I was.
“Why don’t we give your dad a call and have him pick you up here on his way out?” Earl suggested.
Duh. Silly me.
“I heard what happened,” Earl said once I finished talking to my dad. “But don’t you worry about it. You’ll be back in a few days, I’m sure of that.”
I knew Earl was on top of everything that happened in Crystal Point, but this was ridiculous. It was another painful reminder of how closely you had to guard your secrets when you worked behind the gates of a country club.
“Yeah, well . . .” I didn’t know how to respond, not knowing how much Earl knew and who he’d heard it from.
“You weren’t really planning a career in the tennis shop anyway, now were you?”
“Nah. Not really.”
I crouched against the wall of the gatehouse trying to make myself inconspicuous to the cars entering and exiting. A silver Audi drove through the residents’ gate and Earl smiled and waved it on.
“What career are you planning to pursue, if you don’t mind my asking?” He looked at me meaningfully.
“I want to write books . . . to be an author.” That actually had never occurred to me until just that moment, and I think it was more me wanting to have something to tell Earl. The truth was, I always assumed I’d be a tennis pro working in a country club in some random part of the country. But I didn’t want Earl to know how much tennis meant to me. I didn’t want his pity. “I know it’s a long shot and the chances of success are against me,” I added quickly.
“If that’s what you want to do, then do it and don’t think about success.” It was nice to hear Earl’s words of encouragement, even though I had the feeling he could see right through my deception. “You’ll never fail if you never try, but you’ll never be happy either.”
Fifteen
That night I started in with the “I have a sore throat and my stomach hurts” bit. My parents believed me, and why wouldn’t they? I never lied about being sick before. Well, maybe a few times when I was six years old in Arizona and two of my classmates pretty much planned all their days around making my life miserable.
My mom put her cheek up against mine, “No fever,” she pronounced.
After dinner I went outside and sat on the back doorstep. There wasn’t any view to speak of, but I’d learned something the night before. The pesky pines that fought their way up through nothing but sandy soil . . . they were scrappy fighters. Even the fire ants were a miracle of sorts, building sophisticated societies in places no other creature wanted to claim. Not even the most toxic chemicals could keep the fire ants down for long. And the sun. The sun that was setting now so I could only see its powdery pink residue through the pine needles. It was still our friend, our most precious ally in this world. I didn’t want to think about a time when it would turn on mankind and become its worst enemy.
“A penny for your thoughts.” I was so deep in my head I hadn’t noticed my dad in the backyard.