Bayview Heights Trilogy (91 page)

“Ms. C?”

Zoe looked up. “What’d you say, Shel?”

“I asked what good things you feel came out
of the course. What you learned.”

Forgiveness
, she thought ironically.
And that you shouldn’t waste second chances
. “I learned
that you have to look below the surface, that you can’t take things
for granted, and you can’t take the people in your life for
granted.” She smiled. “We learned a lot about each other and
ourselves this semester, didn’t we?”

The kids rumbled their agreement.

Glancing at the clock, Zoe said, “One more
thing before you go.” She held up a packet of letters. “These are
the twenty-four-hours-to-live letters that you wrote in October.”
The class groaned. “I know, you’re different now, but you’ll want
to look at them, anyway. I’ve saved time for you to talk about them
with one another. Read them over, see if you still feel the same
way about the person you wrote to and, if you want, give the letter
to him or her.”

How can I read mine?
she thought as
she distributed the envelopes. But she’d never cheat the kids by
asking them to do something she wasn’t willing to do herself.

Hers was the last. With shaking hands she
took it to the back of the room and opened it up slowly.

Dear
Kurt
.

Just reading the salutation hurt. How could
she possibly have lost him?
Read it, Zoe. Just read it and get
it over with.

What would I tell you
if I had twenty-four hours to live? I’d tell you that I love you,
more than I’ve ever loved a man. I’d tell you that I’m sorry we
lost so much time together. I’d tell you that I wish I had fought
for you back when you reconciled with Elizabeth. I’d
like
to tell you that I forgive you. But I haven’t. To use the kids’
phrase, doesn’t that suck? That I have only twenty-four hours to
live and I can’t forgive the man I love?

I need to get over
this. I need to work at forgiveness and peace. How can I do that,
though? By spending time with you? It hurts just to see you. By
talking this out? Maybe we should have an honest conversation with
each other. Maybe I need counseling...

Because her eyes filled with tears, Zoe
stopped reading. Oh, God, she’d known back in October what she’d
needed to do, and she hadn’t done it. Eventually she and Kurt had
talked about the breakup, but she hadn’t gone for counseling until
it was too late.

After Erica’s incident, Zoe
did
see
Madelyn Foxborough, a therapist from the city that Louise had
recommended. Zoe had talked through her guilt over Erica, but
they’d also discussed Kurt. It had helped.

But it had been too late.

She looked up when the door opened, surprised
to see the kids were in groups, discussing their letters.

Alex Ransom stood in the entrance, young and
handsome as ever. Zoe had heard he’d started dating the new social
studies teacher. “I’ve got a visitor for you,” he said,
smiling.

Erica stepped into the classroom. No longer
as thin as she’d been, or as sad, she looked young and innocent in
jeans and a simple BVH sweatshirt. She smiled at the class. “Is it
okay if I come in to say goodbye?”

Several kids got up and rushed to her. Not
only Caufield’s Chicks, but others, like Madison and Dan Caruso.
The thirteen kids left in this class had become tight.

“Hey, aren’t you coming tomorrow for the
party?” Rachel asked.

The party tomorrow! Zoe rolled her eyes. She
knew these kids so well.

And despite what had happened, she loved
them— and teaching—every bit as much as she ever had. Perhaps
more.

o0o

ERICA WATCHED as Ms. Caufield tried to pull
herself together. The letter she’d been reading and stuffed in her
pocket had made her cry. It was hard to witness, knowing that Erica
herself had been responsible for mega tears on everybody’s part.
But she was done with that. Completely done.

“Ms. C?”

The teacher smiled bravely and came toward
her. They hugged, and the class visited until the bell rang.

“Can you stay a minute?” Ms. C asked.

“Sure I can stay. My dad’s picking me up at
three-thirty.”

“It’s going well with him?” Ms. C sat down at
a table.

Erica rolled her eyes. “Didn’t I tell you the
latest?”

Ms. C shook her head.

“He’s running for the school board. He wants
to keep in place some good programs we have here.”

“We can use an advocate.” Ms. C smiled. “So,
you ready to come back next week?”

“Yeah, I can’t wait to be in class again. I
got credit for most of my first semester courses because of the
tutoring, even phys ed for the kick-boxing classes I took at the
rehab.”

“I’m glad, honey.” Again the fake smile. “So
everything’s back on track.”

“Well, I’m not going to be valedictorian.”
She shrugged. “But I
will
graduate with my class.”
Sighing, she gave Ms. C. a wise-in-the-ways-of-the-world smile.
“And no Georgetown, of course.”

“I’m sorry you didn’t get in.”

“It wasn’t the place for me. My dad and Dr.
Lansing wanted to pull some strings, but I wouldn’t let them.” She
sat up straighter. “I’m going to take courses at Columbia until I
decide what I really want to do. Shondra’s mega jealous.”

“Because Johnny’s there?”

“Uh-huh.”

She noticed Ms. C didn’t react to her comment
about Dr. Lansing. As she’d learned in therapy, she was going to
have to take the bull by the horns. “I hear from Dr. Lansing at
least once or twice a week.”

Ms. C’s jaw dropped. This was something Erica
had kept from her. “Really?

“Uh-huh. We’ve become e-mail buddies.” Erica
cocked her head. “He’s a good writer.”

“Is he?” Ms. C cleared her throat.

“Yep. His letters have really helped me come
to terms with everything that happened. We talk a lot about
forgiving. You know, like forgiving yourself and each other.”

“Oh, Erica, I hope he’s forgiven himself for
what happened.” Ms. C’s voice was passionate.

“Have you?” Erica asked the woman she loved
like a mother.

Ms. C reached out and squeezed Erica’s hand.
“Yes, I think so.”

“Good. Because it wasn’t your fault. I did
everything I could to hide my habit from you. And I got myself into
the drugs and let myself get messed up.”

“The pressure was too much.”

“Uh-huh. It was.” She raised her chin and
grinned. “But I got myself out of it, too.”

“I know you did, honey.”

Erica checked the clock. “Well, Dad’s meeting
me out front. I’d better go.” She stood. “We still on for the
movies Friday?”

“You bet.”

Erica hugged Ms. C. Damn. This just wasn’t
right. But she turned to leave, anyway. You could only help people
so much, and she’d been giving the pair of them her best shot.

When she got to the door, she heard Ms. C
call out, “Erica?”

She pivoted.

“You didn’t answer me. Has Dr. Lansing
forgiven himself?”

Hmm, maybe this wasn’t a lost cause. And
maybe they needed a little nudge. Dr. Sheffield said nudges and
interfering were different things. “I think he’s almost there. But
he could probably use a push.”

“Your e-mails help, I’m sure.” Ms. C had
stuck her hands in her pockets.

“My e-mails aren’t enough.” She smiled. “See
ya Friday.”

o0o

FEBRUARY BLEW into New York with typical
midwinter vengeance. Having dealt with the heat and humidity of
Puerto Rico for two months, Kurt pulled his wool coat closer around
him as he made his way from his car into his office. The whipping
wind stung his cheeks, and a few flakes of snow landed on his face.
Hesitating only briefly at the door, he unlocked it and stepped
into the memories. For a minute all he saw was Erica, holding the
gun. Then he felt the impact of the bullet. He smelled the
sickening scent of the blood seeping through his fingers to stain
the floor. He looked down. New carpet. Louise had told him she’d
had it installed. He was thankful for that.

Louise had told him a lot of things in the
frequent phone calls they’d exchanged during the six weeks she’d
been running the newly opened clinic.
We’re fine but we need
you...You can’t stay in Puerto Rico forever...I never knew you to
run away, Kurt.

Coming inside, he peeled off his overcoat and
shrugged into the white lab coat hanging on a hook near the door.
His brother had been a lot less kind than Louise when he’d come
down to visit at Christmas...

“What is this, some form of
self-flagellation?” They’d been in the modest—well, actually,
stark—little apartment one of the doctors had found for Kurt. In
truth, Kurt hadn’t cared a whit about his surroundings. He spent
most of his time at the clinic.

“It’s fine for me.”

Mitch was persistent. “How long are you going
to be in exile?”

“I’m not in exile.” Kurt had stood and gone
to the tiny fridge for a beer. “I need time to think.”

“You’ve had time to think”

His nerves taut, his temper frayed, he
whirled around. “Back off, Mitch.”

“Not on your life. People need you in
Bayview.”

“You have your family.”

Mitch had sworn then, vilely, and Kurt had
tried to mollify him with a beer.

“I’ll be back soon. I promise. I need more
time.”

His brother had played his trump card. “Zoe’s
sad. All the time. Just like when you went back to Elizabeth.”

“I can’t see her, Mitch. Not now. I just
can’t...”

Ironically it had been Erica who’d worn him
down. As Kurt sat at his desk and found his calendar, he thought
about the girl’s tactics. At first her e-mails had been newsy—what
was happening in rehab and with her father and at school; he’d
responded with stories about the new clinic. Then her posts had
gotten philosophical about life. She’d started ending each of her
letters with one of the “quotes for the day” her therapist used in
rehab. But that wasn’t as bad as when she started to fill him in on
Zoe—what she was doing, how she was faring. He’d asked her gently
not to write about her teacher, but Erica ignored him.

As Kurt pulled out monthly report folders, he
recalled some of Erica’s specific e-mails. Subtlety wasn’t her
strong suit...

“I saw Ms. C tonight,” she’d written. “We
went to the movies. She’s lost a little weight. I don’t think she
needed to, do you?” Erica had ended that post with “The three
essentials of happiness are: Something to do. Something to love.
Something to hope for. I’m gonna get all three, Dr. L. What about
you?”

Kurt remembered shrugging off her question
and thinking about Zoe losing weight. Every inch of her was
perfect. He hoped she didn’t get skinny That night he’d begun
dreaming about her—the smell of her just after a shower, the feel
of her skin when he touched her and how he always raised
gooseflesh... what she sounded like when he made love to her.

Eventually he’d started heading right for his
computer each day when he got to work to see what news Erica had
about Zoe...

“I went back to school today. Ms. C had lunch
with me. She asked about you. The only time her eyes light up is
when she talks about you. Our quote today was ‘Life consists not in
holding good cards, but in playing well those cards you do hold.’
What kind of gambler are you, Dr. L?” Erica had asked.

Kurt had spent that entire night wrestling
with the bedcovers, remembering how Zoe’s eyes had clouded with
desire when he was inside her.

The e-mails continued, getting more and more
pushy. “Mr. Ransom has a new girlfriend, but we got this hunk of a
substitute teacher who moons over Ms. C like Rad Ransom used to.
You know, she’s really a catch. I saw her laughing in the hall with
the new guy. He looks like Brad Pitt.” Erica’s quote for that day
was also pointed. “Nothing is gained without risk. You can’t make
the basket if you don’t take the shot.’” She’d ended with “I know
you’re a pretty good b-ball player, Dr. L.”

Kurt had heard Zoe’s laugh for a full day
after that, every time he turned a corner.

And so he’d come back. It was time to play
his cards, take his shots--hell, the metaphors all said the same
thing. He was ready to get on with his life.

He’d told Louise he was returning, of course.
And Mitch. But no one else. And he’d purposely come back when Zoe
was in Antigua for winter break, so he could get his bearings and
work up the courage to face her. But the thought of her in a bikini
and all those single guys on the make in the tropical playland
bothered the hell out of him.

A knock on his door.

“Come in,” he’d said evenly.

Louise poked her head in the office. “Welcome
back.”

“Thanks.”

“You look good with the tan, but tired.”

“How are things here?”

She rolled her eyes. “Frantic already. And it
isn’t even noon.”

“I can help.”

“I was hoping you’d say that. I told Johnny
to let you know what you can do.”

He smiled.

“It’s good to have you back.”

“Thanks. It’s good to be here. Leave the door
open, would you?”

Kurt had just started making notes on the
monthly reports when Johnny appeared in the doorway. Kurt stood and
Johnny gave him a big hug. Kurt had missed a lot of people when he
was away.

Johnny said, “I wish we had time to catch up,
but there’s a patient you should see. Dr. Frank is busy with an
emergency and I can’t do this one.” He held up a chart. “A woman
with chest pains.”

Kurt grabbed his stethoscope and other
instruments from his drawer. “Serious?”

“Don’t know. She’s been having them for a
while.” He shrugged. “You know how people are. They don’t do what’s
best for them, and they wait until things get so bad they can’t
stand it.”