A Small Town Dream (17 page)

“No, not really, but does anyone
really
like upsetting others?” She was sincere, but he just shrugged. She’d caught on that he used this as a counseling technique sometimes, asking questions but not answering hers. “I don’t think I subvert myself. I just don’t think there’s any need to be contrary just to be...
contrary
. I liked Connie, I loved her as a friend, so why not allow her to say we were best friends? It didn’t seem... I don’t know, it was harmless at first and then...”

It wasn’t easy to talk about Connie, and she completely avoided talking about Parker. She had confided in Dean—and admitted to herself finally—that she secretly wished Parker was the one who had been murdered.

“I love my friends. I have few close ones, but I love them all. I don’t think I could label one as best or better than the others, they’re all equal to me.”

He nodded, said
hmmm
occasionally, but otherwise listened quietly, his hands folded across his lap. Annie was quiet for a while, wondering what he was thinking. More specifically, what he was thinking of
her
.

“Did you love Parker Levitt?” he asked finally.

“What do you mean?” Annie didn’t know where he was going because his voice had betrayed nothing.

“I mean, did you love him as a friend, or as a lover?”

“We weren’t
lovers
,” she said a little too quickly. Dean raised his eyebrows. “I haven’t ever had a lover.
Ever
. He and I were...” She honestly didn’t know how to describe what she’d felt with Parker, and even though sometimes Dean’s silence was maddening, it also helped her. Being with him was almost like being alone, he didn’t push or feel the need to make conversation happen. He was almost invisible sometimes, but with him, she had a real feeling of comfort. “I told him I loved him,” she finally said out loud. “He gave me that book to read and he had all this passion and...we kissed…but we didn’t…I hadn’t...”

“Take your time, Anne.” She took a deep breath.

“OK. Parker and I kissed, and we talked—especially about the book—and we felt connected, also because of the book but...” She stopped.

“But...?” he gently encouraged.

“I don’t know, Dean,” she laughed, “I just don’t know. I thought I loved him and yet, the feeling vanished so easily. So I don’t know if I loved him.” She fell silent again. She had been struggling with her feelings about Parker for some time. “Okay, Dean. Answer this—how can I love someone and then suddenly wish they were dead? Is that normal?” Now he laughed.

“I love that question, ‘is that normal?’ Or, ‘does that make me crazy?’ Those are questions that can’t be answered. Normal is subjective, do you know what that means?” She narrowed her eyes and gave him a look. “Sorry, of course, you do.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. In any case, you saw something in him, felt something new and exciting when you were with him and so, you labeled it love. Now, you want him dead because he murdered your friend and killed a part of you too.” She thought about this.

He had killed a part of her, hadn’t he? Her love and security in the town was now dead. She wanted… No, she
needed
to leave. Parker Levitt had, in effect, murdered her innocence. Dean was right. Dean was smart. She looked at him, really looked. He was smart, and handsome, and...

“You’re pretty damned wonderful,” she said aloud. He dropped his head and smiled. “I know, I know, transference, right? Still, you’re pretty damn wonderful.” He sighed, looked into the distance for a moment, then spoke.

“You know, Anne, I don’t know about that. I’ve been going from place to place, tragedy to tragedy, for over a year. The sadness of the world, it just doesn’t seem to stop. People hurt each other in new and horrific ways all the time. I come into a new place, a school, office building, a town, set up my little room and listen. I offer what help I can but, the truth is, I have no real answers.” Annie sensed that Dean was opening up about something, sharing a personal part of himself, and she didn’t want to break the spell, so she stayed quiet, hoping he would continue, and he did.

“I used to think that I did. Have answers, I mean. When I finished school and got my first job, people starting telling me how good I was, how caring and comforting. I was at a high school back east and the mother of a child who had been beaten and killed by the football team because they thought he was gay, she... She told me that I brought comfort to her life. I believed her. I really did, and I wore that like a badge of honor. Then, I went to this insurance office where one of the workers had run amok with a shotgun. Killed five people, wounded a dozen and then, shot himself in the foyer before the police got there.” Annie’s eyes went wide, but she still didn’t say anything.

“That’s the hard part,” he continued, “when they kill themselves before the police can arrest them. When that happens, we have no way to know why they did it. That’s what troubles people the most, not knowing. Not being able to say, oh well, this happened because of money troubles or not being understood. Something. Anything they can use to make sense out of something completely senseless. There is nothing I can say or do to make sense out of Parker Levitt murdering your friend.” Dean sighed heavily. Annie wanted to reach out and hug him, to touch him, something, but she knew not to.

“In any case, right now, Anne, I have no idea what I’m doing and, honestly, it frightens me. You asked me what do you do when the one thing you based your life on gets torn from you and there is nothing to replace it. You, only nineteen years old, asked
me
that question and me, the expert counselor...person... I have no answer for you. And the reason I don’t is because I’ve been asking myself that same question for a very long time. I have no answer for myself so, how could I have an answer for you?”

“I’m not nineteen yet,” she said and he laughed.

“You’re okay, kid,” he said and the word
kid
stung her. She wasn’t a kid. She was an adult. He was speaking to her like an adult, being open with her, letting her see him for who he truly is. She was no kid, and she would not put up with that.

She stood, walked around to his side of the desk, and took one of his hands. She gave it a gentle squeeze, but he did not squeeze back. After a moment, it felt awkward, and she let go. His hand dropped back into his lap. He gave it a moment and then stuffed both hands in his jacket pockets. She didn’t know what to do. She felt stupid. But then Dean—wonderful Dean—stood and put an arm around her shoulder, and gave her a little half-hug.

“I’m not a
kid
,” she protested, leaning into his arm. “You’re not talking to me or treating me like a kid, so why say that?” He didn’t answer for a moment.

“Anne,” he said finally, softly, and she loved the way it made her feel. “You
are
fine, you know? You are handling this just fine. I’m not worried about you at all. This tragedy will be a memory for you but, it won’t define you. How you react to it, what you choose to do from here, that’s all up to you. That
will
define you. I fully believe you’re going to make good choices, and I’m thankful that I met you, actually. I really am. And I’m so—”

“Do
not
say flattered,
please
,” she said, turning away. “Saying that you’re flattered by my attention, that would be... just
don’t
.”

“I wasn’t going to,” he said, surprised by her outburst.

“Oh?” she said, feeling foolish again.

“I’m here for two more days and then I’m heading home.”

“Should I still come and see you?”

“You don’t need to, Anne.” He gave her shoulder a squeeze and then let go. “You’re fine, you do know that, right?” She nodded.

“But can I still come see you?” she asked and held her breath for an answer.

“Yes,” he said quietly.

“Dean, I want to hug you,” she said and he nodded. She stepped to him, and they faced each other for a moment. Then she slipped her arms up and around his shoulders and pulled him close. He placed his hands on her sides but did not wrap his arms around her. She leaned back and looked into his face. “Dean,” she said, half teasing, half scolding. He grinned and then wrapped his arms all the way around her and held her tight. She sighed. “That’s better,” she whispered in his ear, “
much
better.”

They held each other for a long time not moving. Then she felt him stir and move away, but slowly. She started to move backward but allowed her cheek to touch his, stay close. Soon their lips were only millimeters apart. She wanted to press her mouth against his, but he pulled his head back.

“I’m not done here yet, Anne,” he said. “I’m still working for this school.”

She could see that he was struggling. Parker had easily deceived Connie, had dismissed her from his mind and then told Annie that he loved
her
. It was nothing to him, had cost him nothing. But Annie could hear in Dean’s voice and see in his eyes that a part of him wanted to kiss her. But he didn’t. Not because he could dismiss her as quickly as Parker had, but because of his position and his real concern for the other students. If the rumor had gone around that Dean had kissed her, all his work would be a sham. He would just be a guy who used his position and the situation to bed some young, confused, needy girl.

“I respect that,” she told him. She didn’t say she understood, or try to coax him, she truly did respect him.

“Thank you, Anne,” he said and they disengaged. “Well, I must go to the assembly, pretend to be honored, and then, finally, go home to my little apartment and...” He trailed off. She suddenly got worried. Was he hiding something?

He handed her a business card. “That’s my number, number. I don’t have an office so if you call, you’ll get either me or my voice mail. No secretary.” She looked at the card.

“Is this your address, address?” she poked fun at him.

“Yes, that is where I live. If you show up there, you’ll find me.”

“And find your wife,” she said, cautiously, trying to be smooth. He laughed. “Or some beautiful, smart, sexy woman who is wearing just her underwear and one of your dress shirts,” she said looking at the card and trying to make a joke of her forwardness.

“Subtle, Anne, very subtle.” She blushed. “No wife, no kids, no pets, plants or even a girlfriend. Just me.” He did not sound thrilled about the situation.

“Not looking forward to getting home?” He shook his head and started to gather his things.

“No, I’m looking forward to getting back very much,” he said, tossing his notebook into his leather satchel. “I love my apartment. It’s got a great view of the ocean, it’s comfy, well lived-in, lots of books, a good kitchen. I love it. Only...”

“Only what?”

“Sometimes it’s a little tough, especially when I’ve been out among people for so long.” He finished his packing and dropped his bag on the floor beside the door. “Assembly starts in twenty minutes,” he informed her and they said nothing for a long moment.

“What’s Seattle like?”

“Rainy, beautiful, cold, wonderful... lonely,” he said and she liked the sound of it. Then he opened the door and gave her a playful shove.

“You’re cured!” he shouted and several students looked at them. “That’s right ladies and gentlemen,” he addressed the gawkers, “this girl is
healed
. A-
men
.” The kids laughed and moved on. He turned back to Annie.

“Good luck to you, young lady,” he said and stuck out his hand. She shoved his business card into her pocket so she could shake his hand, but slowly. “If you need me,” he said, “call me.”

“I will,” she said then reluctantly walked away.

When she was halfway to the auditorium, Annie pulled Dean’s card from one pocket, and her cellphone from the other. She quickly entered a text.
I need you
. Then she smiled to herself and headed for the auditorium.