Chapter 40 #2
"We'd hate to see his reputation ruined," Dana adds, "because he got a little…distracted."
Cass has practically burst into flames next to me. I wonder if she's bitten her tongue off, she's so mad. Until she laughs, sharp and dangerous.
"Oh, that's rich. So rich, coming from y'all."
"This isn't about you, Cassidy," Dana snaps.
Brenda leans in. "Some of us have been here our whole lives, Miss Lane. We know Grey Brooks. He's a good man." A pause. "Or he was, anyway."
I feel like I'm far, far away from myself.
Dana shakes her head, all false pity. "Men can't help themselves," Dana notes. "It's up to us to have some self-respect."
Laughter bursts out of Cass. "You have got to be kidding me, Brenda. I know you didn't just judge anybody's self-respect."
"I don't know what you mean," Dana says, nose tipping into the air. "We're only thinking of the children."
"You might be a preacher's wife now, but don't forget that I know you. Didn't you get caught with Tommy Briggs in the back of his Camaro at the homecoming game? In the parking lot? Where there were children?"
Dana's face goes red.
Cass turns to Brenda. "And Brenda--I seem to recall something about you and half the football team behind the Dairy Queen. Very public. Very…sticky."
Brenda sputters.
"And then there's Tammy. Seventeen, in the church parking lot. On Easter Sunday. With the youth pastor."
Dead silence.
"Now, I don't give a good goddamn who you sleep with or where or how many of them there were, nor do I care how sticky it was.
The stickier the better, if you ask me. But don't you dare come for her, you vultures.
Not one of you has the right." Silence. "Now if y'all are through harassing my friend over something that didn't even happen, I believe dismissal's starting. Don't you have some kids to pick up?"
Dana flips her hair as they retreat. "You are such trash, Cassidy Winfield."
"That's Davenport to you--I married that Dodger's pitcher you tried to sleep with all senior year, remember?"
"Trash," she sneers, then scurries off after her friends.
"God, some things never change," Cass says to me, though she's still tracking them. When I let out a shaky breath, she turns to me, concerned. "You okay?"
I try to laugh but it comes out watered down. "I am now. Jesus, Cass."
"Those women have been terrorizing this town for twenty years. They earned that."
I sink into my chair, still shaking. "Has it been like this all day for you too?"
"People have been asking me questions, digging for dirt, but I've only either defended you or played dumb. Which, frankly, is insulting. I've never been dumb a day in my life."
This time, my laugh is real.
"Seriously, though," Cass says, softer. "Are you okay?"
I take a long breath and let it out. "I've been so happy here, and I…I've tried to build something here, a life. And they just…" I can't finish. There aren't words.
Cass squeezes my shoulder. 'Hey--fuck them. You are building something. Don't let those bitter ex-hoes take that from you. We only listen to practicing hoes."
I want to laugh, but I'm too hurt. All I have for her is a nod.
Cass's smile twists like the Grinch headed for Whoville with an empty sack. "Say the word and I'll get my matches. I know where Dana lives."
I snort as the bell rings and the halls fill with kids. "Funny, since your husband is the fire captain."
"Exactly, see? I know my stuff."
I feel Grey before I see him, the gravity shifting in his direction like it so often does. He looks like he's had a day too, tense and tired and squared up. But when he sees me, he is all concern, threaded with quiet fury. He hesitates when he reaches me, kneels down. Takes my hand.
"And that's my cue," Cass says. "Try not to do anything I wouldn't do." A pause. "Actually, scratch that. Do the opposite of what I'd do. I'm a menace." When all we have for her are heavy smiles, she softens. "Good luck. Let me know how it goes."
"Thanks, Cass," I call after her.
With a wave, she's gone.
He searches my face. "That bad?"
I exhale. "Some room moms just cornered me. Told me I should find someone my own age, think about if this job is a good fit. Among other things."
His jaw tightens with the narrowing of his eyes. "Who?"
"Dana, Brenda, Tammy."
He mutters something under his breath that I don't catch, which is probably for the best. I doubt it's nice.
"How was your day?" I ask.
He laughs, but the sound is bitter. "Got pulled aside by the athletics director. He reminded me that my personal choices reflect on the program. Asked if there was anything I needed to disclose."
"What did you say?"
"That my personal life is personal."
A beat of silence.
"They're saying we had sex in the library," I say.
He closes his eyes, exhales. "I heard."
Tears threaten again. "But we didn't. We didn't do anything wrong, but they…they--"
He cups my face. "Hey. I know. You know. That's what matters."
I want to climb into his lap, and he wants to pull me there, but we don't move. School has let out. There are kids and teachers everywhere. We feel every set of eyes.
"It'll die down," he promises again. "Something will happen and they'll move on."
"Will it? Will they?"
"This is how it works. They talk until they find something new to talk about."
I nod, wanting to believe him.
"Let's not worry until we have to."
I take a breath, then say quietly, "We have to worry a little bit."
He knows what I mean--the meeting. When he stands, he offers me a hand.
"You and me."
I take it, stand. Steady myself.
"You and me."