Tenure Track (18 page)

Acting before Jane could realize that there was no blood on the clothes she was wearing, Dana rapidly withdrew her arm from the running water and pulled off the brand new shirt, tossing it to Dennis like he was getting ready to go for a lay-up. At the doorway to the basement, Chris and Duncan strained their necks to catch a glimpse of Dana, now wearing only a bra and jeans. Jane’s gaze was focused on the cut. The force of pulling the shirt across the fresh wound opened it up again, oozing a new trickle of blood.

Returning upstairs after adding Dana’s shirt to the wash, Dennis heard his sister say that she wanted to take a shower. He tossed his windbreaker onto his bed and returned to the rec room holding a loaded grocery bag. His two pals were seated on the couch just as when he had left, their feet propped up on a coffee table, watching the
Enterprise
in action. He plopped down in between them, setting three Dixie cups on the table, into which he filled equal amounts of the overly sweet blue punch. He took a swig like he was downing a shot of whiskey, then refilled his cup. Once the next commercial break broke their gaze, Chris and Duncan stared at him from both sides.

“
So can you tell us what that was about?” Duncan asked.

“
Nope, still classified,” Dennis responded, staring straight ahead at the television set. “Let’s just say mission accomplished. Excellent work, gentlemen.” He raised his cup of faux Romulan ale to his comrades. They picked up their cups and returned the salute. Chris then asked Dennis for his share of pizza money. “Sorry, Dude. This Romulan ale tapped me out.”

The twins temporarily succeeded in keeping Dennis’s rescue mission secret, but were ultimately done in by the two forms of mass media to which their mother paid the most attention—the local newspaper and Uncle Perry.

The morning after the incident, all the teenagers slept late, tucked snuggly under protective blankets of warmth. Jane rose early to nurse her morning coffee and peruse the newspaper before the hungry hoards descended on the kitchen. Usually on such Saturday mornings when the kids’ friends stayed over and she had no other appointments she cooked brunch for the crew, no small task when it came to filling the bottomless stomachs of three teenaged boys. It was a small gesture of maternal love that she actually enjoyed and would sorely miss after the kids left home.

Jane never verbally expressed her enjoyment of such domestic duties, an admission that would seem to betray her feminist ideals. Now, preparing for her younglings to leave the nest, she often found herself seized with regret that perhaps she had not embraced the joys of motherhood as fully as she could have. In some ways she blamed Mark for this predicament. As much as she loved her husband, she could not shake a lingering resentment that he had usurped her role as the primary parent in their family. Rationally, Jane knew she should have been happy having a husband who embraced fatherhood, but their roles were still unequal. With Mark insisting on playing the part of “pal,” Jane found herself forced into the role of authority figure, insisting that both kids and husband follow household rules. She did not enjoy always playing this role, but someone had to be the grown-up in the family. She could not recall the last time Mark had ever raised his voice to the children, much less imposed a punishment for any infraction.

So it was not surprising that Jane picked up the first clues as to her children’s deception. As she sipped her dark roast coffee with cream, her eyes scanned the Metro Section of the newspaper. Her pupils registered a small notice that the previous evening police had raided a private party in Forest Green Estates, taking more than 20 juveniles into custody for possession of alcohol and charging two adults with serving alcohol to minors. No names were listed, as the report had barely made the deadline for publication. Jane knew the party Dana had attended was in swanky Forest Green, one of those gated golf club communities for the nouveau riche
.
Suspicion passed through her mind for a split second before she moved to an article on gardening tips.

Close to noon, zombified teenagers began shuffling into the kitchen, stirred by the aroma of homemade pancakes. The boys were dressed to spend the rest of the day working in Duncan’s makeshift garage laboratory, but they were more than willing to put off their experiments until after brunch. As the threesome dove into huge stacks of buttered flapjacks with syrup, sausages, fruit, milk, and juice, Jane marveled once again at the amount of food three skinny boys could pack away. Dennis’s two friends thanked her profusely for the meal.

“
Next year, can we still come by for Saturday breakfast?” Duncan asked through a muffled mouthful of food. Both he and Chris planned to attend a small college only 45 minutes away from home.

“
Hey, ya moocher!” Dennis said, punching his friend in the shoulder.

Feeling flattered by the compliment, Jane responded sincerely, “Anytime you boys want—just call first.”

As the boys downed their massive breakfast, Dana shuffled down the stairs. She usually spent her free Saturday afternoons at the gym, but at that moment looked like she preferred to stay in bed. She stumbled into the kitchen, still wearing her pajamas, bathrobe and large fuzzy slippers made to resemble basketballs. Her face was pale as a ghost, with dark circles under the eyes, and hair matted to her head. She seemed oblivious to Dennis’s guests, who still stared at her like she was a beauty queen. “Uh, lookin’ good there, ‘Sis,” her brother greeted sarcastically.

Dana glared at him. “Yeah, it takes a lotta work to be a goddess,” she croaked, groping around the refrigerator for an energy drink.

Jane offered her some pancakes, but she declined. “Is your stomach bothering you?” the mother asked.

“
A little,” Dana replied hoarsely as she sucked down the blast of caffeine, vitamins, and various other ingredients designed to quickly revive a tired brain.

Dennis chimed in, “Why don’t you try a little plain pancake, Sis? Sometimes that helps.”

Dana reluctantly took her brother’s advice, nibbling a dry flapjack in her trembling hands. Jane’s motherly instincts told her that something fishy was going on, but she did not want to embarrass the twins by calling them out in front of their friends.

Just then, the telephone rang, causing Dana to jump as if a dart just whizzed by her head. Since Jane’s hands were wet from washing dishes, she hit the telephone speaker with an elbow. “Hello?” she asked, still trying to figure out what the twins were hiding.

“
Hey Janey girl! Whatcha know this beautiful day?”

“
Hey Perry!” the whole group chimed in unison.

Realizing he was on speaker, Perry asked for a roll call of those present, lest he need to temper his language for underage ears. “Well, I’m glad the kiddos are there. Now I can get the real scoop.”

All four teenagers cast worried glances at one another. “I heard there was some kind of a scandal last night at Forest Green,” the older man went on. “A bunch of St. Luke’s kids got busted at a kegger. You two weren’t involved, were you?”

Jane studied the children’s reactions. Dennis was the first to speak, feigning ignorance. “No way, Pere! I was here with the guys. What happened?”

“
Well,” he began, excited to be first in the know about their high school happenings, “my sources tell me that the party was at the home of some kid named Hunter James.” Jane reflexively jerked, recognizing the host of the party where Dana said she had been. She immediately looked at her daughter, who sheepishly sucked on her drink as Perry continued. “Apparently it was wild! Drunken teenagers everywhere. The parents were hosting. I heard one of the coaches was even there!” Jane’s leg jerked reactively again at the mention of a coach, wondering if it could be John Gibson.

Before either child could say anything else, Jane jumped in to save them from incriminating themselves. “I’m sure the police took care of it, Perry,” she said, squinting her eyes at Dana.

“
Ooh, I wonder if anyone was beaten?” Perry asked salaciously.

“
I’m sure only those that wanted to be!” Dennis deadpanned, earning a chuckle from Chris, Duncan, and Perry.

“
I wonder if any of your friends were involved?” the older man inquired of the teenagers.

Jane interceded again. “Perry, leave the kids alone. I’m sure we’ll get the full story by Monday morning. I’ll fill you in.” The twins breathed a grateful sigh of relief as Jane changed the subject, but neither one would look at her as she glared back and forth between them. The only sound in the room beyond Perry’s half-heard chatter was the clink of forks and knives against plates as the ravenous guests downed more pancakes.

Once off the phone, Jane allowed Dennis to leave with his friends, warning him that she wanted to talk later. She knew her strategy ran the risk of allowing him more time to create a cover story, but years of motherly experience told her that she might have greater success by grilling Dana first. She waited to make her move until the boys had left and Dana was in her room changing into workout clothes. Jane stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame as her daughter tugged on her socks, followed by a grimy pair of workout sneakers. “So,” Jane began, closely watching her daughter’s reactions. “How’s your arm?”

Dana looked at the still-bandaged cut. “Mhhmm, better. It doesn’t hurt so much anymore. I’ll still be able to practice.”

“
Mmhmm. . . . Whose house did you say it happened at?” Jane quizzed.

“
Uh, Hunter’s,” Dana answered, still lacing up the shoes. “I guess we got a little carried away goofin’ around. Uh, his parents were both there.”

Jane bounced slightly against the doorframe, hands held tightly behind her. “The same Hunter James whose house was raided for a keg party?”

“
Oh, Mom, you know Perry gets stuff mixed up all the time. Who knows if he’s even right about this.”

Jane lowered her eyes. “Dana Elizabeth Straussman, don’t you lie to me,” she ordered in a calm, but firm voice. “It was in the newspaper. I know there was alcohol at that party.”

Dana blanched, exposing her guilt. She leaned her arms on her knees and stared straight ahead.

“
Just tell me one thing,” her mother continued, “did your brother have to bail you out of jail last night?”

“
Duh, no!” Dana replied emphatically. “He just came to get me. Tiff freaked out and left me there, so I didn’t have a ride. Most of the other kids had been drinkin’, so I called Dennis. I was just trying to be safe, Mom.”

Jane looked into her child’s ashen face. Something told her she was still not getting the entire story. “Were
you
drinking?”

Dana shrugged. “Yeah, a little.”

Jane wavered as to what to say next. If Mark were there, he would no doubt be playing good cop to her bad cop, insisting on leniency by pointing out that most teenagers do drink alcohol and that at least Dana was responsible enough to call her brother for a ride. Then it would be Jane’s task to point out that Dana should have left the party with Tiffany as soon as she realized there was underage drinking going on, and that both the twins had lied about the situation. But Mark was not there. She was on her own, free to choose whether to be good cop or bad cop.

Mulling her options, she pressed on with another line of questioning. “Was Coach Gibson there?”

Dana bit her bottom lip before answering. “I didn’t see him, but some kids said they heard he was comin’ to bust us. I think somebody narc’d to him and the cops both.”
Probably Tiffany. The skank!
“I got outta there before then.”

Jane nodded, still stalling for time as she pondered her reaction. “Well,” she said slowly, “I wish you had called me, but at least you had the good sense to call your brother. Go to your workout, but come straight home. I’ll talk to both of you about your deception tonight.”

“
Oh, okay,” Dana replied, her mouth slightly agog at the lack of fury from her mother.

After calling Dennis to order him home by dinner, Jane started to phone Mark, then stopped herself.
No, I’ll handle this one myself.
Without reacting to Mark’s overly lenient nature, Jane could be more rationale about the situation. Mulling it over, the children’s subterfuge was more troubling than Dana drinking. After all, Jane occasionally let both children partake of wine with a special dinner, although she considered that to be very different from drinking with other teenagers at a keg party. And of course, Dennis would do anything for his sister, so it was hard to blame him for not tattling on her. Jane fumed over the knowledge that Hunter’s parents had actually sponsored the party. She hoped the authorities dealt harshly with such irresponsibility.
And what to make of the presence of Coach Gibson? Was Dana telling the truth?

Jane called a few other parents who were always in the know to confirm Dana’s version of the story, more or less. According to one parent whose child had been among those arrested, Coach Gibson arrived just before the police, chewing out the Jameses on the front doorsteps and yelling loudly that none of his players had better be there. When the police arrived moments later, most of the teenagers panicked and tried to run for it. All three of the screaming adults were placed into handcuffs, although Coach was released when the officers figured out that he had just arrived and had never gone inside the home.