The last secret_ a novel - Mary McGarry Morris [85]
When it's their turn, Mr. Carteil tells them that Drew's test scores have certainly improved and he's been getting his work in on time. But Mr. Carteil is still concerned. Drew acts indifferent, almost sullen. He never volunteers, which is frustrating because Drew is certainly getting the material. Lately he's even fallen asleep in class a few times.
“Well, he's not staying up too late, I know that,” Nora says. She is disappointed. Having closely tracked his grades, she expected a glowing report.
“It's a boy thing.” Ken shrugs. “They can fall asleep at the drop of a hat. I used to do the same thing. Even fell asleep once during a soccer game. On the bench! They all left me, they thought it was so—”
“Excuse me,” Mr. Carteil interrupts. “But the next class is coming in and I'd rather say this privately. Do you think Drew might be depressed? I'm no doctor, of course, but that's what I keep thinking.”
She and Ken barely make it to Chloe's class on time. American Literature. The teacher is Mrs. Klein, a petite young woman in a long black skirt. Instead of taking parents' questions, she delivers an abbreviated lecture, similar to the one their children heard today. The Scarlet Letter. The irony is not lost on Nora, though she barely listens. All she can think about is Drew. Mr. Carteil is right. Her son is depressed, and she's been too blindsided by her own problems to recognize it. She knows by Ken's drawn face that he's feeling the mess he's made of everything. When the bell rings, Mrs. Klein stations herself at the door and hands each parent a note, telling how their child is doing.
I am pleased with Chloe's effort and know she will continue to do better. She is a lovely girl and always a delightful student to have in class.
Chloe is waiting in the corridor. She promised Nora at dinner that she was going to be very pleased by her teachers' comments. Her expectant smile fades. “What's wrong? What'd she say?”
Nothing's wrong, Nora assures her. See? She holds out the note. It's Drew, that's all. Just something Mr. Carteil said. What? Chloe asks. What did he say? Nothing they'll talk about here, Nora says as quietly as possible with the passing din. Is he in trouble, Chloe asks, and in her daughter's persistence Nora hears more of the dread that comes when a child's sense of well-being has been compromised. First, her father. Who next? Her brother? The third period bell rings. Biology, Ken says, leaning close and peering at the schedule. Room 202, where's that? In this wing? Yes, Chloe tells him, but he seems confused. He points to the schedule and asks again.
With Robin's mother heading their way, Ken is desperate to avoid eye contact.
“Hello, Chloe,” Emily Shawcross says, adding with the briefest of regal nods, “Nora … Ken.” His face reddens. She is a silver-haired version of her daughter, beautiful, vibrant, yet somehow managing in her tight-lipped anger to be if not gracious, then civilized. Before anyone can (or would) ask, she explains that she is here tonight in place of Robin, because Lyra is still very sick. In the strained silence each hopes the other will speak.
“With what?” Nora asks, as if their meeting is all so perfectly normal, cordial as ever. There is the need not only to shield her family from these curious glances, however real or imagined, but out of respect for Emily. After Nora's mother died, Robin announced she would be sharing her mother with Nora. Delighted with her new role, Emily always remembered Nora on birthdays and at Christmas. Comparing gifts with accusations of maternal favoritism was a running joke between the younger women. If Emily made cookies for Robin's family, then Nora would pretend to be hurt until she got a batch. And the truth is, Nora often felt closer to Emily than she ever had to her own mother. Even in this awkward moment, affection