Rushing Amy: A Love and Football Novel (17 page)

“You don’t really want to do this,” he said.

“I was a teenage girl.” She unsnapped her seat belt. “Let’s go.” Her lips curved into a slight smile.

He grabbed the keys out of the ignition and popped the driver’s side door open. She walked around the front of the car. He reached out for her hand as they approached the front door.

M
ATT RANG THE
doorbell three times. No response. He’d resorted to banging on the heavily carved wooden door with a closed fist when it opened to reveal a tall, lanky teenage boy who snapped, “What the hell is your problem?”

“What the hell is yours?” Matt didn’t wait to be invited in, and any pretense of good manners or courtesy at someone else’s home was gone. He pulled Amy across the threshold with him as he shoved the door open further. “Where is my daughter?”

The kid smelled like a brewery, even from a couple of feet away. His eyes were bloodshot. He backed up a few steps unsteadily. The music was so loud they had to shout at each other to be heard. “Who are you?”

“I’m Samantha’s dad. Who are
you
?”

Amy knew that the kid must have been powering down whatever alcohol he could get his hands on. He was weaving around like he was about to fall down. She also knew it was no use arguing with him about the fact they’d waited ten minutes at the front door, or maybe he shouldn’t be drinking at all. The fastest way out of this was to find the master bathroom.

She resisted the impulse to gawk at the most opulent house she’d ever been in. The entryway was probably bigger than her entire townhouse. A chessboard marble floor gave way to richly patterned, wallpapered walls and a staircase framed by a hardwood banister that probably took more time to carve than the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel took to paint. The beveled prisms of a huge crystal chandelier tossed shards of light around the room. Right now, those prisms were swaying with bass turned up high enough to rattle the house.

The noise was coming from what she imagined was a basement. It was probably called something else in a house with this price tag.

She dragged her eyes off the scenery. Right now, Job One was getting the girls and getting out of here before Matt lost his shit completely. It seemed that the teenagers of the very wealthy did the same dumb crap that every other kid did when their parents’ backs were turned, or when those parents made it easy on them by conveniently leaving the house.

“May I use your bathroom? Which way is it?” she asked.

“Down the hall.” The kid hooked a thumb toward a hallway. He stared at Matt again. Amy saw his upper lip curl. “Why are you being such an asshole? We didn’t hear the doorbell.”

Someone downstairs must have decided they’d heard enough of Macklemore; the music halted abruptly.

She saw a flush spreading up Matt’s neck and over his cheekbones out of the corner of her eye. Matt’s hands balled into fists. She stepped between him and the kid.

“Maybe you need to go back to the party,” she suggested to the kid.

“Maybe you should party with us,” the kid said. “He’s fuckin’ boring.”

“Thanks, but no thanks.” She tugged Matt toward the staircase. “Why don’t you go tell your friends that Samantha, Brittany, and Morgan are not feeling well, and we’re taking them home.”

The kid loped away, throwing “They’re not going to care” over one shoulder. He vanished around a corner.

“The only thing saving that kid right now is that he’s a kid, Fifi,” Matt said.

They hurried up the staircase.

M
ATT WAS STRIDING
down the hallway of Natalie’s parents’ house, with Amy on his heels. She still had his hand. Every step felt like he was sinking into quicksand. He knew this was just the start of Samantha’s teen years, but he wondered if he was going to spend the next five or six years mired in this kind of fear every time she was out of his sight.

He told her he didn’t want her to go to Natalie’s. She went anyway. He wondered how he could explain to her without shouting that being a parent was like spending the rest of your life with your heart walking around outside of your body. He realized he was probably overreacting. His daughter was smart. He’d done his best to teach her how to take care of herself, but she was just so young still.

A set of double doors at the end of the hallway must have been the parents’ room. Amy tugged on his hand. “Matt. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Let’s get in there.”

“Wait,” she said. She reached out for his other hand. “You’re not fine. Take a deep breath.”

“Excuse me?”

She put her hand in the middle of his chest.

“Your heart’s pounding. Take a breath.”

He knew she was just trying to help, but he felt a bit annoyed. Maybe she was right. He concentrated on his breathing and listened to her talk.

“Samantha’s scared to death right now. So are her friends. In two years she’ll have a driver’s license, and there will be a lot more going on than some teenage boy who wants her to have a sip of whatever alcohol he could get and maybe kiss her.” Amy hauled air into her lungs. “There are guys who could drug her drink, or try to get her into a car even though they’ve been drinking. You can’t control every situation she’ll end up in. You can be as mad as you want later, but right now, you’re the guy she knows she can call, no matter what’s wrong, where she is and what time it is.”

His eyes narrowed. “Don’t tell me I don’t know how to parent.”

“I’m not attacking your parenting. I’m telling you what it’s like to be fourteen and to know you’re going to get it from your dad because you made a bad decision.” She took another deep breath. “Morgan called you because Samantha already knows she’s in trouble. She knows she screwed up by coming here.” Her amber-brown eyes pleaded with him. “Scold her all you want tomorrow, but right now she needs to know you’re on her side.”

Matt felt some of the adrenaline draining off as she held his hand. He shoved himself off the wall. “Okay,” he said. “Let’s do this.” He laced his fingers through hers.

M
ATT AND
A
MY
found the master bathroom and the three girls in short order. Brittany was clutching her stomach. Morgan was texting. Samantha wouldn’t meet his eyes. She shuffled her feet a little. He watched her edge toward him.

“Brittany, are you sick? What’s wrong?” he asked.

Brittany blushed a deep red and muttered, “I—I’m fine. Can we leave now?”

Matt had a feeling he knew what the issue was. Sure enough, Amy made a beeline for her. The two talked for a few moments in lowered voices while Amy dug through her purse. She pulled out a paper-wrapped tampon and slipped it into Brittany’s hand. She glanced up, caught Matt’s eye, and made a shooing motion.

“Hey, Matt, why don’t you take Morgan and Samantha to round up everyone’s stuff? We’ll be out in a minute.”

“Got it.”

Samantha and Morgan led him to Natalie’s room. The girls’ things were still in the corner they’d dumped them in. If Fifi and Brittany were done in the ladies’ room, they could be gone in a couple of minutes. He’d just grabbed the last backpack as he heard an angry voice in the hallway.

“Why are you leaving? You’re ruining my party!” A drunk, crying, and inappropriately dressed Natalie had managed to make her way upstairs.

Matt herded four females down the stairs as Natalie continued to shout at them.

“I’m going to tell everyone at school that you’re a bunch of babies!”

Natalie’s face was streaked with running mascara. Lip gloss was smeared everywhere but her mouth. Natalie was still crying and shouting at them from the stairs as they hurried away from her.

“You’re all losers. You ruined my party! I can’t believe how lame you are. Nobody wants to kiss you, Samantha. At least they want me!”

“Thank you for inviting us,” Samantha called out.

Matt’s vision was tinged red with anger. He told himself he was an adult and any argument with a drunken fourteen-year-old was pointless, but he turned at the base of the stairs to face her.

“Natalie, you need to go upstairs right now. Wash your face and change your clothes. You might feel better if you got some sleep, too.”

“You’re not my dad,” she snarled. She wiped her face with the back of her hand. In that moment he remembered her comment at breakfast with the three other girls about her dad. He knew what it was like to know your dad didn’t give a shit about you. He was willing to bet she did, also.

He forced himself to lower his voice. “No, I’m not. I’ll tell you what, though,” he said. “If I was your dad, I’d make sure you were safe. I wouldn’t leave you here to handle this alone. I would make it clear every day that you are more important than anything else to me.”

Her mouth dropped open. She stared at him for a minute or so.

“Go upstairs and wash up,” he said. He saw the sheen of new tears in her eyes, but she turned and raced up the stairs again.

He strode out the front door.

Matt longed to invade her parents’ basement and dump every remaining bottle of alcohol down the sink, but the best thing to do was to leave as quickly and quietly as possible. He didn’t want to be there when the cops showed up. He backed the car out of the driveway, drove a block or so, pulled over and dialed 911.

M
ATT COMPLETED HIS
phone call.

“Okay. You all have your overnight stuff, your phones, anything else you brought?” Amy said. She turned toward the back seat of Matt’s car, noting three girls who were still unusually quiet.

“Yes,” Brittany said.

“Thank you, Amy,” Morgan said.

“You’re welcome,” Amy said.

“What do you say, Samantha?” Matt said.

Samantha mumbled something like “Thank you.” At the next stoplight her father turned to give her a look Amy could only classify as disappointed. Four cop cars raced by in the oncoming lane, sirens screaming.

Amy reached out to pat Matt’s hand. He didn’t respond.

“When they find out my dad called the cops, they’re going to be so mad,” Samantha said. Amy saw Matt’s hands tighten on the steering wheel. “Everyone will hate me.”

Amy heard whispering in the back seat, but she couldn’t make out what was being said.

“Mr. Stephens,” Morgan said.

“Morgan, it’s okay to call me Matt.”

“Well, okay.
Matt
. What are you going to tell our parents?”

“I already talked to your parents.” There were a few panicked
oh nos
from the back seat. “They know I’m bringing you home. Were you girls drinking tonight?”

“No,” Morgan said.

“We left when they started drinking,” Brittany said.

“I didn’t drink,” Samantha said.

“Well, then. It looks like all I have to tell them is that you left when the boys started drinking and you didn’t drink. Is there anything else you want to tell me?”

“Thank you for coming to get us,” Brittany said.

“Yes, thank you,” Morgan said.

“Thanks, Dad.”

He didn’t miss that, but he played it cool. “You’re welcome, ladies.”

Matt pulled up in front of Morgan’s house minutes later. Both her parents were waiting on the doorstep. She grabbed her things out of the back of Matt’s car and ran to them. Brittany’s house was a few minutes away; her parents came to the car to shake Matt’s hand and thank him for bringing their daughter home.

“I’m happy to do it,” he said. “Maybe it’s best if the girls don’t make plans with Natalie.”

Brittany’s dad nodded, and shook Matt’s hand again. “We’ve already called Natalie’s parents. They have a houseful of cops right now. I don’t think their kids will be making plans with anyone for a while.”

“Probably not. Enjoy the rest of the evening,” Matt said.

Matt got back into the car and turned to his daughter. Tears ran down her face. She wiped her runny nose on the sleeve of her sweatshirt.

“I know you’re mad at me,” she said. Of course, this made her cry harder. Amy started digging through her handbag for some damn thing.

“Yes, Samantha, I’m angry. I told you I didn’t think you should go to Natalie’s house. You did it anyway. I told you I’ve never met her parents and had no idea if you and your friends would be safe there. You weren’t. What would you have done if both your mom and I were unavailable tonight?”

“I don’t know,” she said in a small voice.

He made a conscious effort to lower his voice again. Amy was right; yelling at Samantha would do nothing but alienate her. “I was mad, but even more, I was scared. I didn’t know if you were okay. I was afraid someone tried to hurt you or put something in your drink. Can you understand why that would scare me?”

He turned to look out of the windshield again and turned the key in the ignition. He didn’t mean to be harsh with her. She was surrounded with love every day of her life, and she wouldn’t understand the hole that still existed inside him from the worst rejection of all—the rejection of a parent. He could hear Samantha sniffling. So could Amy, who pulled a package of tissues out of her handbag and turned to hand them to his daughter.

“It sounds like the party wasn’t much fun tonight. Did you girls eat before you left?” she said.

“No. Natalie’s parents said they were ordering pizza, but they didn’t.” Samantha said. She blew her nose.

“You must be a little hungry, then,” Amy said. Samantha didn’t answer her.

Matt and Amy exchanged a look. “We’d better stop and pick something up,” he said. He took the exit to what he knew was Samantha’s favorite burger place. He detested fast food, but he liked theirs.

B
URGERMASTER WAS THE
kind of drive-up restaurant his mom took him to for a splurge when he was a kid. The customers ate in their cars. The differences between Burgermaster and another fast-food place were pronounced. The menu boasted grass-fed, hormone-free beef, handmade shakes, and vegetarian options. Burgermaster fed those who founded Microsoft as the company got off the ground, and it was possible to see Seattle-area celebrities enjoying the food year-round. Matt got out of the car to stretch his legs while he waited for the to-go order to be brought out to his car. Samantha got a meal. He and Fifi ordered a couple of shakes.