Friends Forever (24 page)

She took her place and smiled at each child who came through the door, wondering which ones would form lifelong friendships. As she put on their name tags, she almost wanted to tell them what an important day it was, that the children they made friends with “forever” would be with them all their lives.

Miss Wendy was waiting for them as they came into the room. And when they had all arrived, Izzie went back to the classroom. Some were playing blocks, some were in the kitchen, and others had already started working on the clay with Miss Wendy’s direction. Half a dozen mothers were seated on tiny chairs at the back of the classroom, and she noticed one very pregnant one who looked incredibly uncomfortable. And as soon as she saw her, Izzie remembered that one of the mothers had been hugely pregnant on her first day, and when she thought about it for a minute, she realized it must have been Marilyn with Brian. He was upstairs, starting
his senior year in high school at that very moment. It was like a chain of children that went on year after year, and now it was this class’s turn. This was their moment. Their big day. And hers.

Miss Wendy signaled to her to introduce herself, and Izzie stood in the center of the room and spoke to all of them. “Hello, everybody, I’m Miss Izzie. My real name is Isabel, but I like Izzie better, and a long, long time ago, I went to this school too.” She glanced over at the block corner as she said it, and a little girl had just ripped a block out of a boy’s hands. It was an incredible déjà vu of Gabby, and she felt as though it were a message from her.

Izzie turned her attention back to the class, and told them they were going to be making things in clay today. Everyone looked interested as she said it, and she asked them to form a circle, and slowly they all approached, and she invited them to sit on the floor. She and Wendy sat down with them, and Wendy had everyone say their name, since they couldn’t read each other’s name tags, which were for the teachers’ benefit, not theirs.

Wendy led them to the clay table after she had them sing a song, and they were busy for the next forty-five minutes making things in clay. Then they all washed their hands and came back to the circle, where Izzie read them a story. It was one of her favorites, and the children were mesmerized. And afterward they sent them outside to play. She noticed that the playground had new equipment, which looked more interesting and more fun than what she remembered. And then they gave the children juice and a cookie, when they came back in.

They read another story, allowed them free play for a little
while, and then Wendy had each of them hold the letter that started their name. They had a busy morning, and it seemed like minutes later when she was back at the front door, escorting each of them to their car, where their mothers were waiting for them. And then she walked back into the classroom, looked at Wendy with a smile, and took off her apron. Wendy looked exactly like a kindergarten teacher. She had a big smile, kind eyes, blond hair in a long braid down her back, and she was a little round. She was shorter than Izzie, and she was wearing a smock with fire engines on it that she had made herself.

“So, how was your first day, Miss Izzie?” she asked warmly.

“I loved it.” Izzie smiled at her. She knew she was doing something her mother thought unimportant, but there was a cozy happy feeling to being back in familiar surroundings, like going back into the womb. Izzie felt safe and protected here, in a world where she hadn’t felt safe since the death of her best friend.

“We have a good time here,” Wendy said, putting the toys away, and Izzie helped her. “I think we’ll do musical instruments tomorrow, and numbers. They did pretty well with the alphabet today.” Izzie felt like she was going back to kindergarten herself. It was all fun to her, and the children were very cute. There was a little Chinese girl in the class who reminded her of Ping. She wondered if she would have her in the class one day, and Billy’s twin sisters would be coming next year, Marilyn had said. It was hard to believe they would be old enough for kindergarten soon, or that she was the teacher. Wendy said she’d been a big hit with the children, and Izzie was happy to hear it. Half an hour later, with everything
tidy and ready for tomorrow, they turned off the lights, left the room, and locked the door. It was only two-thirty, and she had the whole afternoon free.

She decided to stop by and visit Connie. She knew how lonely she was without Sean. When she got there, she told her about her morning at Atwood, and Connie thought her job there was a great idea. Izzie had found a small one-bedroom apartment near the school and could walk to work. It was her first apartment on her own.

“What a happy place to work, with all those cute children. I think that’s wonderful.” Connie told Izzie then that she had decided to go back to work herself. She was going to help Mike at the office full time, not just a few hours a week. He needed the help, and with no children to help him, Connie had decided to do the accounting, and she liked the idea of seeing more of him. She was tired of doing nothing at home, now that she had no children to look after. Sean had started FBI training on the Marine base at Quantico a few weeks before, and he would be there for five months and then move to Washington, D.C.

The two women sat and talked for a long time, about Sean’s FBI ambitions and his plans. He was finally getting to live his dream. Izzie admitted to being worried about him, and his mother said that she respected what he wanted to do, and she reminded Izzie that he had wanted to go into law enforcement since he was a little boy. Izzie didn’t argue with her, but she thought it was much too dangerous work, particularly given the fact that they had already lost one son. But Connie was far more broad-minded than she was, and said she would never interfere with any career path
he chose. She was a good role model for any mother, in contrast to her own, who wanted Izzie to follow in her footsteps, and always had, no matter what Izzie thought about it or preferred. The morning she had just spent reading stories to the children and playing with clay would never have won her mother’s approval, but she had had a great time.

She stopped in to see Connie whenever she could after that, to keep her company when she and Mike got home from work or on weekends. She visited Marilyn sometimes too. She was busy with her three children and her husband. Judy had Michelle, who came home a lot on weekends. And Helen, Andy’s mother, had a career herself, but of all the mothers, Connie was now the most alone, and Izzie had the strongest bond to her, so she made a point of visiting her. She sent Sean text messages whenever she did, reassuring him that his parents were doing well. And he called Izzie from time to time, but he was busy at school.

Andy tried to remember to call Izzie too, but he was so swamped at med school that most of the time he forgot. And Billy called her once in a blue moon from Miami or when he was on the road. He said he liked Miami but was traveling all the time. She kept up with him in the tabloids and
People
magazine. He had a pretty racy life, and these days she never saw any woman with him more than once in any picture. Billy was moving fast.

There were occasional stories too that he had been seen at a party or a nightclub in bad shape, drunk or disorderly, or after a bar fight, and he always had some sexy hot babe in tow.

It was Christmas before Izzie saw her friends again. She had helped decorate the Christmas tree at home, with Ping this time,
and had gone to
The Nutcracker
with her and Jennifer. Sean and Andy came back to San Francisco for the holidays, and Marilyn said that Billy was due home soon too, though probably not till after Christmas, since he was in the playoffs for the Super Bowl, and if he was in it, Marilyn, Jack, and Brian were going.

They each spent Christmas with their families, as they always did, and the day after, Izzie, Andy, and Sean cooked dinner at Sean’s home. Connie and Mike had gone out for dinner. Izzie told them what it was like being a kindergarten teacher at Atwood, Andy talked about the rigors of medical school but it was obvious that he loved it, and they badgered Sean into telling them about the FBI. He was stingy with the details, but he smiled whenever he talked about it. He was almost finished, and then he was going to Washington to work in an office. Izzie was relieved to hear it. It didn’t sound too dangerous so far. He mentioned that several of the people in his class had graduate degrees. Two even had Ph.D.’s. They sounded like an interesting group.

They had a fun evening, and talked about Billy’s latest escapades from what they’d read in the press. There had been a recent story in
People
magazine about a wild party he’d gone to in Miami where someone had been shot. Sean hadn’t been happy to hear it, and was looking forward to seeing him when he got home. Billy had become a superstar, but his closest friends were still the ones he had grown up with.

Izzie and Sean were cleaning up Connie’s kitchen, when his father called and told him to turn the TV on. He hung up the minute he said it. Sean had no idea where they were—all he knew was that they had gone out to dinner. He walked across the dining
room to the TV in the living room, grabbed the remote, and turned it on, as Izzie and Andy followed him out of the kitchen. They didn’t know what to expect, but the minute it came on, there was a picture of Billy on the screen, followed by a film clip of an ambulance leaving Billy’s Miami home.

“What the hell—” Sean muttered, trying to figure out what had happened. Then the announcer on the news flash said that star quarterback Billy Norton had died of a drug overdose at his Miami home earlier that evening. The three of them stood mesmerized, rooted to the spot and staring at each other.

“Oh no—oh my God,” Izzie said in a weak voice, sinking into a chair. “Not again … not Billy …” Neither Sean nor Andy had said a word, as Connie and Mike walked in with a look of shock on their faces. The five of them looked at each other and didn’t know what to say. They didn’t know whether to go to Marilyn’s house or not, or if she had heard it. It was all over the news on every channel, so if she hadn’t seen it yet, she would any minute, or someone would call to tell her. There might even be TV cameras outside and reporters. Billy’s death was going to be news all over the country. Izzie couldn’t bear the thought of going through it again. It had been four years since they lost Gabby, and it felt like yesterday. And as she looked over at Sean, she could see he was in a rage. He was smoldering. For him, it was just like reliving losing Kevin.

“It’s so fucking senseless,” he said, as he threw the remote across the room, remembering all the times Billy had gotten drunk, and when he’d tried to give Sean Ecstasy after the championship game, because they’d already been tested. Sean stormed out of the room, ran upstairs, and slammed the door to his bedroom,
as Connie and Mike looked at Izzie and Andy, and all four of them felt helpless. Another of their friends was gone, and unlike Gabby, who had died so innocently, Billy had taken all the risks, and lost.

“I’d better call Marilyn,” Connie said in a low voice, and when she did, her friend sounded strangely calm. There was no screaming, no crying, no hysteria. Marilyn sounded like she was in shock.

“I knew this was going to happen,” she said grimly. “He couldn’t handle the pressure and everything that went with it.” He was a twenty-three-year-old boy, making millions of dollars, and surrounded by temptations that were too exciting to resist. They had all worried about it with Billy, especially once he didn’t have Gabby to ground him. And now this, this senseless waste of a talented athlete and a boy they had all loved.

Connie had asked her if she wanted her to come over, and Marilyn said she did. Andy said he’d drive Izzie home. He had picked her up before dinner. Connie called to Sean to tell him they were leaving but he didn’t answer. He was still in his room with the door closed, grieving on his own.

Andy and Izzie left quietly, and Connie and Mike drove the few blocks to Marilyn and Jack’s home. There were already news cameras outside, and people were pouring out of vans, as reporters stood at the front door, ringing the bell to talk to anyone who was willing to talk to them. Brian had seen the news at a friend’s house while watching TV, and Marilyn had told him not to come home. He had been sobbing when she talked to him on the phone, and she was too.

Mike told the mob of reporters gruffly to get back down the
front steps and stay there, and when Jack opened the door barely more than a crack, Mike and Connie squeezed in, and they locked it again. The shades were drawn all around the house. They were under siege, and fortunately the twins were asleep. Jack and Marilyn looked ravaged.

“I’m so sorry,” Connie said as she put her arms around her friend. They had been there too many times now, and the two men were locked in a tearful embrace. Billy wasn’t Jack’s flesh and blood, but he might as well have been—he had loved the boy like one of his own for seven years. And he had watched his career sweep him away like a tidal wave. The lures of the fast life had been too heady for him to resist.

They sat talking long into the night, and at two in the morning Connie and Mike went home. They found Sean sitting in the living room, watching reruns of that night, and clips from some of Billy’s most famous games, which were being shown on TV. He had been planning to go to the Super Bowl for the first time in a matter of weeks, and now he never would.

“How are they?” Sean asked. A look of deep concern had replaced his rage. When he’d come back downstairs, everyone was gone, and he’d been watching the news ever since.

“About the way we were when Kevin died,” Mike said unhappily, looking tired, “only with news cameras outside. The Nortons are going to have to come out eventually to make arrangements.”

“They’re going to need police escorts to help them,” Sean said practically. “Do you want me to take care of it?” he offered.

“Do you know who to call?” His father looked surprised, momentarily forgetting he was in the FBI Academy.

“I can figure it out with a few phone calls.”

“Then I think you should. They have no idea what to do, and they’re too upset to think. They couldn’t even let Brian come home tonight.” Sean nodded, and picked up the phone. He called information and then started dialing numbers. He started out by giving them his FBI ID number each time and took it from there. In twenty minutes, he had arranged for SFPD officers and patrolmen to be at Marilyn and Jack’s house the next morning and stay with them all day. It was all he could do to help them. He hadn’t even felt his own sense of loss yet, just his outrage at what Billy had done, and his fury at those who had helped him do it. He himself had seen no evidence of Billy’s drugging in recent years, but it was easy to figure out from the occasional news flashes in the tabloids. And now it had come to this. His boyhood friend was gone, and the people responsible for it were scot-free. All Sean wanted to do was kill them, one by one, and very painfully. And soon, he would have the means to do it.