Chapter 16: The Rule

Keith was leaning on his truck outside the courthouse when I came down the steps.

I hadn't asked him to come.

"Joanne said you'd have a call you didn't like," he said.

"Joanne talks too much."

"She told me to say that you'd say that."

I laughed, which surprised both of us.

Then I told him about the clinic and the man on the phone who knew my birthday.

His face went flat in a way I was starting to recognize.

"Get in," he said. "I'll drive you."

"You have a pool to run."

"I have a deputy coach who thinks he's running it. Get in."

The clinic's front desk took my ID, my signature and a form that said no one but me could see my results.

The young woman who had called was relieved to see me.

"He sounded very sure," she said. "He said he was going to be at every appointment."

"He isn't," I said.

When I came out, the sun was low and ugly, and the parking lot tilted.

I put my hand on the truck door and missed it.

Keith caught me by the wrist.

"Sit."

"I'm fine."

"That's what you said last time."

He steered me onto the running board, and I sat with my head between my knees until the pavement settled.

His fingers stayed around my wrist.

They were big and warm and dry, and his thumb lay across the inside, where the pulse was.