Over Her Head (20 page)

She couldn’t seem to get enough air into her lungs.
Breathe. Slow and steady. That’s it.

“All I can think about is my family,” she finally got out around the lump in her throat.

“When was the last time you talked to Tim about what’s going on?”

“I hope to heaven he doesn’t know.”

“Don’t be naive. Of course he knows. It’s all over the elementary school. These teenagers have little brothers and sisters,
and they feel just as involved as anyone.”

“Have you been talking to him?”

“Of course. Someone has to. You might want to back off on organizing Tanya’s and Nick’s and who knows whose lives and pay
some attention to the one you have here at home.”

Well, that wasn’t going to be a problem, since she’d been cut out of Tanya’s life by people who thought they knew better.

But isn’t organizing people what you do?

In the back of her brain, the question niggled at her. Did she really think she knew better than everybody else how their
lives should be run? That was the essence of what Colin had just told her, wasn’t it? Did people translate her love for helping
and organizing into the kind of behavior she hated—the know-it-all who bossed others around?

Surely not.

She didn’t want to think about that right now. Since Colin wanted her to concentrate on her family, she’d do it. The rest
could take care of itself once her family was safe.

“You’re right,” she said. “I will. Meantime, I’ll call Gregg tomorrow and get Anna set up with him ASAP.”

ASAP turned out to be Tuesday morning at ten thirty, which was the only half hour that Gregg had open in a short week, even
for his cousin.

“It’s the holiday season,” he said in his psychiatrist voice, which was not the one he used at Super Bowl parties and birthdays.
There must be someone waiting in his office. “This and Valentine’s Day are my busiest times of the year.”

Which did not bode well for the mental health of Glendale. Still, getting Anna some help was number one on Laurie’s list,
and if she had to pull her out of school to get it, then that’s what she’d do.

As she drove across the university campus on the way home Monday afternoon, a shuttle passed her. A glance at the driver told
her it wasn’t Tanya . . . not that it would have made any difference outside of a honk and a wave. Maybe it was just that
she was still feeling a little strange about Tanya and the others in the study group. Did Tanya know what they’d done? Was
there any hope for a friendship between herself and Tanya? Did Tanya think Anna had played a part in Randi’s death?

And how could she bring it up gracefully on Thursday without giving Tanya more pain?

Her cell phone rang, and she welcomed the interruption to such a gloomy train of thought.

“Mrs. Hale, this is Tracey Tillman, the attendance secretary at Lincoln High.”

“Hi, Tracey.” Uh-oh. What now? Was she calling to tell her that the gossip about Anna had reached epic proportions and they
were recommending switching schools? “What can I do for you?”

“I wonder if you’re aware of the situation with Anna, Mrs. Hale.”

“I am, and as a matter of fact, we’ve arranged for counseling for her. Her first appointment is tomorrow.”

There was a pause. “That wasn’t quite the situation I meant, though I’m sure they’re related. In fact, I’m positive they are.”

“What . . . situation?” Laurie gave up on trying to drive, talk, and speculate at the same time. One-handed, she wheeled the
minivan into the commuter lot at the bottom of the hill and parked.

“Anna cut her last two classes today,” the woman said bluntly. “I thought you’d like to know so that you can talk with her
about it. Her grades have begun to slide, too, which under the circumstances is very understandable. I’m glad you’ve arranged
additional counseling for her, to stop the situation before it gets out of control.”

Cutting classes? Slipping grades? Laurie’s blood seemed to chill in her veins with shock and apprehension. “Is there a reason
nobody called me about this before?” she asked.

“Is her behavior at home normal?” Ms. Tillman inquired.

“Would you answer my question, please?”

“It’s school policy to notify parents that a student was absent from class at the end of the day. I just got everything compiled,
so this is the soonest I could call about that. As to the other, her math teacher says her grade on the last weekly quiz was
a D. The one she missed today, of course, netted her an F.”

“Anna has never had a D or an F in her life!”

“Well, she has now. And she’s not alone. Two of the other girls in her class are seeing the grief team because of similar
problems.”

“Grief team?”

“I can’t say more due to confidentiality issues, Mrs. Hale, but if it’s any consolation, this is normal. We just have to be
as aware and supportive as we can.”

“You can count on that. You say Anna has been seeing the grief team on her own?”

“Yes. Three times this week, according to my records, because one of the sessions overlapped a class.”

She fought back a comment that would probably get a kid detention. “Thank you for telling me. Nobody else has.”

“Again, we try to respect the confidentiality of the students as much as possible. If there’s anything any of the faculty
can do at this end, please let us know.”

Laurie disconnected with a stab of her thumb. Cutting class. Slipping grades. Grief team! If they had gotten Anna into outside
counseling right away, maybe this wouldn’t be happening. If Colin hadn’t been so unfair about poor Gregg, maybe Anna would
be finding her balance right now.

Ooh, she was going to give Colin an earful. What did he know about girls and their troubles, anyway?

Then, as she turned on the ignition in the van, she realized what she was doing.
I get bad news and what do I do? I blame Colin—I treat him like the enemy, just as he said.

Did she do this all the time, or just when her stress levels were off the charts? How long had he been tolerating this ugliness
in her character without saying a word? The fact was, they were in a crucible right now, and the layers of illusion she had
about herself were boiling away.

If she’d been asked about this last month, she’d have cheerfully expected to find gold at her core. But at the moment all
she could find was lead.

By the time she got home and put soup and sandwiches together for dinner, she had sobered enough to tell Colin about this
latest bombshell calmly. No more attacks if she could help it.

“A D and an F!” he exclaimed in the same tone she’d used herself. “Our Anna?”

“The result of cutting classes. That was the other news I got this afternoon. She skipped the last two periods today, and
I bet if I called Janice Edgar, I’d find that Kyle did the same.”

“He probably isn’t getting D’s, though.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I just mean that math isn’t Anna’s best subject to start with.”

“That does not excuse D’s.”

“Of course not. I just meant that Kyle could probably skip a few classes and still get A’s and B’s on his papers. He’s a pretty
bright kid, from all accounts.”

“This conversation is not about Kyle!”

“Laurie, I understand you’re upset, but there’s no need to shout.”

So much for her good resolutions. When had she developed this temper? Controlling it was like trying to hold down a demon
with a garbage-can lid.

But she had to control it, for the sake of her family. “I’m sorry,” she said as calmly as she could. “But it’s clear that
the grief team at the school is not helping Anna. Asking Gregg for help was the right thing to do. I just wish we’d done it
sooner.” She crossed a carpet that had almost become a battlefield and burrowed into his arms. After a moment, the stiffness
went out of them and he held her the way she needed to be held.

“I wish they’d find the kid who did the pushing,” she murmured into his chest. “It’s putting me on edge, hearing everybody
talk about our daughter like she’s the one who did it.”

“I know. I do, too. Though nobody has had the guts to say anything to me.”

With a flash, she remembered the Silversteins getting up and moving to a different pew on Sunday. “Whether they do or not,
they’ll get their reward,” she said grimly. “And I hope I’m there to see it.”

“In the meantime, what are we going to do about our girl?”

“I’m going to go talk with her right now. Cutting classes has to stop, first of all.”

“But if it’s a symptom of something bigger, it may not. Go easy on her, Lor.”

She gave him the kind of “gimme a break” look that Anna and Tim turned on her at least once a day. How could she go easy on
cutting classes and failing tests? But all she said was, “I will.”

Laurie climbed the stairs to Anna’s room and tapped softly on the door. “Sweetie?”

“Come in.”

Anna was propped up against her pillows, drawing.

“Can I see?”

She turned the pad toward her, and for once it wasn’t a picture of a fairy or even of a falling girl. It was Kyle, drawn with
all the loving detail of a girl with a heavy crush.

“That’s beautiful, sweetie. It really looks like him. You’re so talented.”

Anna didn’t reply. Instead, she began filling in the shadows, giving Kyle’s face relief.

“I got a call from Ms. Tillman today,” Laurie began as she sat on the edge of the bed. “The attendance secretary. She says
you cut your last two classes.”

No reply. The only sound was the whisper and
skritch
of the pencil on paper.

“Mind telling me why?”

“I dunno.”

“Was it to be with Kyle?”

Anna shrugged and looked at the drawing with a critical eye. “Do you think I should detail his hair or leave it?”

“I think you should put that down and answer me.”

With a put-upon sigh, Anna laid the drawing on the coverlet beside her. “It’s not a big deal, Mom.”

“Cutting class is a huge deal. If you’re doing it with Kyle, it’s even huger.”

“I’m not.”

“You’re not doing it to see him?”

“No. He likes math. The big geek.”

“You can’t pass your quizzes unless you’re in class. Rumor has it you got a D on the last one. This has to stop here, Anna.
You have to get it together, and Dad and I want to help.”

Anna’s lower lip set in a line that Laurie recognized all too well. She’d seen it in her own mirror a time or two.

“Don’t give me that look. Tell me the real reason you skipped and let’s get this solved.”

To Laurie’s surprise, the mutinous lip didn’t have a temper tantrum to follow. Instead, it softened and Anna’s eyes welled
with tears.

“Mom, you can’t solve everything.”

“Why not? If the math problems are too hard, Daddy can work with you on them. If you can’t see the board, we can get you glasses.
There’s always something you can do besides skipping out and not being responsible. You’re not some kind of slacker chick.
You’re a Hale, and Hales lead by example.”

“Not always,” Anna mumbled.

“Even if they don’t, they do the right thing. We’re Christians, Anna. We don’t lie about where we are and deceive our parents
and teachers.”

“Maybe I don’t want to be a Christian.”

The breath went out of Laurie’s lungs. “Don’t say that.” A hot blur of tears filled her own eyes. “Why would you ever think
such a thing?”

“What’s it buying me, Mom? I go to school and people look at me sideways and throw stuff at me in the cafeteria and talk,
talk, talk all the time. I go to church, and the same people are there. The only person who doesn’t look at me like I’m some
kind of criminal is Kyle, and you won’t let me see him.”

Guilt. Oh, Lord, help me out from under this burden of guilt. Especially since I’m one of those people who actually wondered
if she could have done . . . something . . . that night.

No. She could no longer afford to think that way. The guilt would grow and grow. Was that what was making her so angry? Was
she lashing out at people so she wouldn’t lash out at herself for thinking such things about Anna?

She had to trust her daughter. She had to. Otherwise, their family would splinter and fall apart.

“People are idiots, and as soon as Nick and the police solve this case, everyone will know it.” There, she could almost convince
herself. “In the meantime, let’s stick to the point. You can’t cut class. I don’t want to get any more phone calls from Ms.
Tillman. If you do—”

“What?” Anna sounded so weary. “I’m already on total lockdown.”

Good point. “Daddy and I can be endlessly inventive. Think about the inches of muck on the floor of the lumber shed at the
store. Somebody has to clean it.”

“Um, like the janitors?”

“Um, like they have better things to do in the showroom and the garden center. Believe me, you’re on a Hawaiian vacation right
now compared to what we can come up with if I hear from the school again.”

“Mom, give me a break. You just don’t understand.”

Laurie wondered if every teenager was issued this line at birth, and it blossomed in their DNA when they hit an age with double
digits.

“You’d be surprised what I understand. I’ve been in love, too, you know.”

“It’s got nothing to do with that.”

“What does it have to do with?”

But Anna just shook her head. Laurie decided to take the plunge. “Ms. Tillman also told me you’ve been seeing the grief team.”

Anna lifted her head with a jerk, and glared at her. “That’s supposed to be private!”

“Oh, your conversations are. Don’t panic. But Daddy and I think you need to talk to someone else. On a—a steadier basis. Tomorrow
morning we’re going to see your cousin Gregg.”

“I have school.”

Now you worry about it.
“I know. I’ll call and tell the attendance secretary so you won’t get in trouble.”

“Why do I have to go see Gregg? I’m already talking to J—a guy on the grief team. He’s nice.”

“Because Gregg’s a professional. He’ll know what to do to help you work through this.”

“Nobody knows.”