coffee and soft drinks in the faculty lounge.”
“Nothing, thanks.”
The scale of the furniture in the room made him seem even larger than he was, which was plenty large. He was impeccably dressed in creased wool slacks and a V-neck sweater of fine-gauge cashmere. He appeared little different than he had when Lily was in the Holloways’ wedding sixteen years before. His looks had grown more mature and refined over the years, his personal style more sophisticated. And of course, his sense of entitlement had risen along with his success as a professional golfer. One of the top players in the PGA, he seemed to have no doubt that he deserved everything that came his way, and that included the women who threw themselves at him on tour.
“Here’s some of Charlie’s artwork.” She indicated a molded plastic tote tray with “Charlene” neatly printed on it. “You can have a look while we wait for Crystal.” She hadn’t seen him since the last meeting about Charlie. At that conference, he and Crystal had agreed to engage a tutor—which they had—and put their daughter’s difficulties at the top of their priority lists—which they had not.
He glanced at his watch, a Rolex that was probably another freebie from a sponsor. “She’s always late.”
What did he think, that Lily was going to agree with him? “The weather’s horrible,” she pointed out. “I’m sure she’ll be here soon.” Though she was careful not to show it, Lily was a tad irritated, too. This meeting was about their daughter. Lily had not summoned them lightly. The least Crystal could do was show up on time.
“That’s a sweet one,” she said as Derek studied a crayon drawing of a koala, its baby clinging to its back. “She drew that after our field trip to the Portland Zoo. Charlie has a real eye for detail. When her curiosity is piqued, she doesn’t miss a thing.”
He nodded and looked at the next one. It showed a ladder running up the long side of the paper, a tiny plank with a figure perched on the edge, about to jump into an even tinier bucket of water. “And this?”
“Vocabulary work. The word of the day was dare, I believe.” The other children had written dare on their drawings, but not Charlie. She avoided writing or reading anything at all. “She’s very clever,” Lily said. “She has an inventive mind and uses some sophisticated thought patterns.”
He came to a picture of a house surrounded by spiky green grass and blooming flowers, blue sky and sunshine in the background. The house had four windows lined up in a row. All the windows were filled with black scribbles.
When Lily had asked Charlie why she’d scribbled the windows black, the little girl had shrugged. “So you can’t see what’s inside.” She always tried to give a minimal response.
Derek didn’t ask about the drawing but moved on to the next, a remarkably vivid study of a small brown-and-white dog with a black patch around one eye. “And this?”
“Vocabulary again. The word was wish.”
“She’s been bugging me for a dog,” he said. “Maybe this summer.”
Just don’t tell her maybe unless you mean yes, Lily thought. Charlie had enough uncertainty in her life.
Finally, Crystal arrived in a swirl of haste and apologies.
“My God, I am so sorry,” she said, talking rapidly as Lily took her coat, hat and umbrella. “The roads are a nightmare. I nearly got killed on Highway 6, trying to make it on time.”
When Lily emerged from the cloakroom, Crystal offered her trademark beauty-queen smile. Despite the weather, her makeup looked freshly applied. Knowing Crystal, Lily guessed that she’d taken time in the car to fix her hair and face.
“Hello, Derek.” Wafting the scent of Gucci Rush, Crystal sailed in front of her ex-husband and sat down, a silk Hermès scarf fluttering around her shoulders, her shapely legs crossed at the ankles and angled demurely despite the awkwardness of the low chair. Crystal had always known how to use the power of her beauty.
Together, she and Derek resembled a toothpaste commercial. But looking like the all-American success story hadn’t saved their marriage.
Lily put on her glasses. Even though they were Fiorelli, with handmade barrister-style frames, she knew they made her look like a dork. She ought to quit wasting her money on trendy glasses, because once she put them on, they tended to look like any discount brand. There was something about her earnest face that could transform designer frames into blue-light specials. She’d tried contact lenses, but had an allergic reaction every time she put them in.
Tamping the manila file folder on the table, she took a deep breath and looked from Crystal to Derek, who sat as uncomfortably as she did in the undersize chairs. Lily caught Crystal in an unguarded moment, and the expression on her face was startling. She was eyeing Derek with raw, undisguised yearning, her lovely face registering a wounded animal’s uncomprehending pain.
Lily ached for her friend, yet at the same time she felt a faint nudge of exasperation. Today was about Charlie, not about Crystal and Derek and what they’d let love do to them.
With controlled, precise movements, Lily handed them each a copy of the ORAT printout. “This chart shows the results of the Oregon Reading Abilities Test,” she explained. “It’s given to every third-grader in the state, every March.” With the eraser end of her pencil, she traced the gray line on the chart. “This is the average score for the whole state. This red line above it is the average for Laurelhurst students.” As a private, selective school, Laurelhurst always showed test results well above the norm.
Lily cleared her throat. “The blue line shows Charlie’s performance on the test.” The line crawled miserably amid the lowest percentile rankings, at intervals even flirting with zero. She watched the Holloways’ faces, seeing the expected surprise and disappointment. She’d been disappointed, too—but not surprised. As Charlie’s third-grade teacher, she had seen the child’s struggles from day one. She’d tried to prepare the Holloways in previous conferences, but the reality simply hadn’t sunk in. Maybe today, it would.
Crystal gazed at Lily, her eyes filled with bewilderment. She seemed fragile, as though everything hurt her these days. Derek merely looked angry, defensive perhaps. Both were classic reactions of loving parents. No one wanted to see that their child was having trouble, and once they did, the child’s failure not only hurt, but attacked the character of the parents themselves.
“As you know,” Lily said, “I’m not a fan of standardized testing. This was state-mandated. So this test doesn’t really tell us any more than we already know about Charlie.”
“She still can’t read.” Derek’s voice was almost accusatory. His large hands, tanned from a recent golf round in Scottsdale, pressed down on the surface of the table. “You know, I’m getting pretty damned sick and tired of hearing this. I pay that tutor what, a hundred dollars an hour? And we’re still not seeing results. What kind of teacher are you?”
“Derek.” Crystal reached out a hand as though to touch his sleeve, but then seemed to think better of it. She folded her hands tightly together, her flawless manicure gleaming.
“I don’t blame you for being frustrated,” Lily said. “I think we all are, Charlie included. Believe me, I know how hard everyone’s been working on this all year.” She was careful with her choice of words. It was true that, in addition to engaging the tutor, the Holloways had subjected Charlie to seemingly endless testing, from a pediatric checkup to psychological evaluations to a battery of tests by a reading specialist in Portland. The results were inconclusive. There was no scientific name for the sort of block Charlie seemed to be experiencing. Lily wished she could believe the homework she sent for Charlie to do with each parent was done with diligence. She knew better, though. Crystal and Derek loved their daughter, but given the state of their lives, they hadn’t made her schoolwork a priority.
“I know we all hoped to see more progress,” she added. “However, that’s not the case. Given that it’s nine weeks from the end of school, we need to talk about