The Education of Sebastian & the Education of Caroline

by Jane Harvey-Berrick

  I wondered again what David saw in me—had he seen something when I was 19 that was no longer there? Or did he simply prefer a submissive, compliant, bovine wife? And what about Sebastian? Why did he want me? Was it more than just sex for him, or was I being naïve? He said he loved me but…

  “I see you’ve been catching some sun—my, you’re looking a little red, Caroline.”

  Donna’s kind face was looking down at me.

  “Oh, hi Donna,” I said, my voice sounding a little more high-pitched than usual.

  “And this is Shirley.”

  “We’ve spoken on the phone—it’s nice to meet you in person.”

  I stood up to give Donna a quick hug and to shake hands shyly with Shirley Peters who was short and dark haired, and had mischievous hazel eyes; the resemblance to Ches was obvious.

  “It’s good to meet you, too, Caroline. I’ve heard so much about you already. You’ve made quite an impression on the boys. Ches couldn’t wait to show me your article.”

  She laughed lightly. “My son is certainly a fan and I have my suspicions about Sebastian.”

  My face froze as she winked at Donna. “It’s like having a second son—I swear Sebastian spends more time at our house than he does at his own. Hmm, well, not so much lately: Ches thinks he’s got a girlfriend, although I don’t know why it’s such a secret.” She sighed. “Well, maybe I do—I can’t imagine him wanting to bring a girl home to meet Estelle and Donald.”

  Donna nodded sympathetically and settled herself in a deckchair under the large, colorful sun umbrella. Shirley headed for the locker room to change into her swimsuit.

  “How was your meeting at City Beat?”

  I couldn’t help smiling at Donna—she really was interested in my writing. I showed her the article and watched her face as she read it in detail.

  “You’ve really caught the spirit of surfing, Caroline,” she said. “And that’s a super photograph. Oh, look: Sebastian still had his long hair there. I wonder why he cut it? I suspect that his father had something to do with that.”

  Shirley returned wearing a purple and orange tankini.

  “What are you suspecting?” she asked, her voice laced with curiosity.

  “Oh, we were just talking about Sebastian’s buzz-cut.”

  “Oh, that,” said Shirley darkly. “He wouldn’t say anything to Ches, but we definitely got the impression it wasn’t voluntary. All the girls at school were crazy about Sebastian, according to Ches. I think if they weren’t such good friends he would have been a little jealous—well, more than a little. There was even something in the yearbook about Sebastian’s long hair, if you can imagine that.” She frowned. “And did you see that bruise he had on his cheek last week?”

  She sucked her teeth.

  “Hey, Mom!”

  Ches was walking toward us in his shorts and polo-shirt uniform. He grinned at his mother and gave her an affectionate kiss on the cheek.

  “Chester, honey! Just in time—Donna and I are about to expire from thirst.”

  “Hi Donna, Caroline,” he smiled, but whatever he saw behind us made his smile falter. “Hello, Mrs. Hunter.”

  Sebastian’s mother weaved her way toward us—it was clear she’d spent some quality time at the bar.

  “Donna,” she slurred. “And friends.” She looked at me, “the won-der-ful Caroline Wilson. I almost expected you to be walking across the water in the swimming pool, not lying next to it.”

  “You’ve been drinking, Estelle,” said Donna sharply. “Perhaps you should rest on the veranda where it’s cooler.”

  “Yes, let’s put the embarrassing drunk where she won’t bother anyone; let’s hide her out of the way,” sneered Estelle. “You sound just like Donald.”

  Donna turned to Ches and spoke in a quiet voice. “Is Sebastian here? Can you get him, please.”

  Ches nodded and walked away quickly.

  Estelle picked up my copy of City Beat and tried to focus her eyes on the photograph. Suddenly she tossed the newspaper into the pool.

  “You don’t fool me, Mrs. Wilson,” she snarled. “You were a stuck up bitch nine years ago and you haven’t changed, have you? You’ve just polished up your act. But you don’t fool me.”

  “Estelle! Keep your voice down,” ordered Donna, as other people around the pool began to stare. I was frozen on my sun lounger, terrified of what Estelle might say next.

  She scowled at me then turned her glazed eyes to Donna.

  “You don’t tell me what to do, Donna. I don’t even know why you like her. She pretends to be so sweet and pure—but she isn’t. Flaunting herself everywhere, ingratiating herself. Well, she doesn’t fool me. She’s nothing but a…”

  “Mom!” Sebastian’s voice was tight with anger as he walked toward us. “What are you doing?”

  Ches stood behind him, one hand on his shoulder, seeming to restrain him.

  “Mom, you’re embarrassing yourself,” he said, coldly. “I’ll drive you home.”

  Estelle whirled around and slapped him hard. I couldn’t help gasping as my hand flew to my mouth and I started to stand up.

  Sebastian’s eyes were almost black with fury. Ches gripped his arm and tugged him backward.

  “Come on, buddy, walk away.”

  A sudden silence descended, horrified eyes staring at Estelle.

  Slowly she came to her senses and her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she took in the shocked faces turned in her direction. She straightened her purse over her shoulder and staggered off.

  “What the hell was that about?” whispered Shirley.

  Donna sighed. “I don’t know: but her drinking is getting worse. Donald will have to do something.”

  Shirley scoffed at the idea. “Donald doesn’t give a shit about her—word is that he’s been seeing some young civilian nurse. Seeing to her, probably.”

  Donna shook her head slowly. “God knows those two should have divorced years ago. It would have been better for Sebastian if they had. Poor boy; I hope he’s okay.”

  “He’s got Ches with him,” said Shirley softly. “He’ll be ok: he’s used to it.”

  My heart lurched painfully. I desperately wanted to wrap my arms around Sebastian to comfort and protect him, but I couldn’t. It hurt so much. And then a more painful thought crossed my mind—maybe he wasn’t running to me; maybe he was just running away from that. And if he was, I couldn’t blame him. Besides, couldn’t he say the same thing about me and David?

  I didn’t want to believe it, but once the thought was there, it seemed more plausible than to believe that Sebastian would want to be with me.

  He had opened my eyes to a world of possibilities, to a world where I could be loved for myself, but would my new life be with him? I was afraid to hope.

  After a moment, Shirley stood up. “I’ll just go check on the boys.”

  Donna exhaled deeply and looked at me. “Are you okay, Caroline?”

  I nodded, still feeling shaken. Did Estelle know?

  “That wasn’t really about you,” Donna continued, “she’s just jealous.”

  “Jealous? Of what?”

  Donna smiled sadly. “Never mind, it doesn’t matter. Now, what were those questions you had?”

  I shook my head. “They seem rather insignificant now.” I stared at the sodden sheets of newsprint that some helpful children were fishing out of the pool.

  “Please ask me,” said Donna. “I need something to get my mind off that awful scene.”

  We chatted about our shared experiences of living on different bases for several minutes, before Shirley reappeared.

  “How’s Sebastian?” said Donna, her concern evident. “Did you see Estelle?”

  “Ches and Sebastian got her into the car; he’s driving her home.”

  She shook her head. “If there are any more incidents like that, Estelle will have her membership suspended.”

  “I’ll speak to Johan,” said Donna. “Maybe he’ll be able to persuade her to …
seek some help. She won’t be the first Navy wife to ... well, she won’t be the first.”

  A subdued Ches returned with some orange juices. Shirley rubbed his arm and they swapped brief smiles. It was refreshing to see the close relationship they had—especially after the unpleasant scene that had played out between Estelle and Sebastian.

  I bit my tongue as Ches went back to work—I wanted to ask him if Sebastian was okay, but I couldn’t.

  I turned my attention to finishing my article, as Donna had suggested.

  Shirley was incredibly helpful, offering fascinating insights into the world of the military wife.

  “Of course, it’s hard leaving friends behind, and hard for Chester starting new schools every couple of years, but it’s made us closer as a family, too. And the Marine Corps is a second family; we’re all pretty tight. It’s made Chester good at making friends and he’s a very resourceful boy, very self-sufficient. But we did make sure that his last four years of high school were consistent—we felt that was important for his education. I like traveling and the challenge of new places—new countries. To be honest, I’m dreading the day when Mitch retires: I don’t know what he’ll do with himself. He’s so used to the structure and routine of the Marines, I’m not sure how well either of us will adapt to civilian life.

  “But what about you, Caroline? If David decided to quit the Navy, what would you do?”

  I twitched uncomfortably, not wanting to have the spotlight turned on me.

  “I don’t think his routine would change that much: he’d still work in a hospital; still work his clinics. It wouldn’t make that much difference. Just a different sort of uniform.”

  Donna smiled. “Yes, you’re right. Medicine imposes its own set of regulations and routines. Being the wife of a doctor isn’t such a huge leap.”

  I’d enjoyed talking to Donna and Shirley—it had been a lot like having friends—but I realized the sun had shifted in the sky and I leapt up.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry. I have to get back and pack for David. He’s taking everything with him to the hospital tomorrow morning. I have a mountain of ironing to do.”

  Shirley laughed and Donna smiled sympathetically.

  I thanked them again and waved quickly.

  CHAPTER 10

  David managed to find fault with everything that evening: my cooking, the clothes I’d packed for him, the way I’d ironed his shirt and pants; probably even the amount of air I was inconveniently breathing.

  I tried to think if he’d always been so difficult. I honestly couldn’t remember.

  He was particularly annoyed because I refused to come to bed with him, insisting instead on finishing up with my interview notes. During his bombastic huffing, I realized that he didn’t have a coping mechanism for dealing with my refusal—he wasn’t used to it and he didn’t know how to handle it. The thought was oddly liberating.

  When he left the next morning, he didn’t even ask how I was planning to spend my weekend. Not that ‘screwing the brains out of my young lover in your bed’ would have figured high on my list of responses to that particular question, but I did think he might have pretended to take an interest.

  I’d had one brief text from Sebastian simply saying that he was looking forward to the weekend. He hadn’t answered when I’d asked if he was okay.

  I spent the day writing and also took a moment to look up possible photography classes I could take at NYU. Carl Winters had praised my snaps—it made me wonder if I could take that side of my work further.

  During the afternoon, Donna telephoned to invite me to supper. I appreciated her kindness but I wasn’t going to be as alone as she thought. I simply told her I was enjoying the peace and quiet—she understood at once, checking only that I’d be at the annual Base picnic on Sunday.

  I felt strangely nervous. I hadn’t seen Sebastian since yesterday’s ugly scene; it was also the first time that we’d been able to plan to be together for more than a few hours.

  It was nearly midnight when I heard his light tap on the backdoor. I’d been dozing on the couch while I waited for him to finish his shift at the country club.

  I made sure the kitchen light was off before I unlocked the door.

  “Hi.”

  “Hi, yourself.”

  We stood staring at each other: he frowned slightly.

  “Can I come in?”

  “Of course.”

  I stood back to allow him to pass, then I closed the door and locked it again. When I turned around he was still staring at me.

  “I want to kiss you,” he said, sounding uncertain.

  “Do you?”

  I didn’t know why there was so much tension between us.

  “Caro, what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing: just kiss me.”

  He hesitated for less than a second then slowly walked forward. He held the palm of his hand against my cheek and lowered his face to me. He kissed me twice, his mouth lightly touching mine, then he wrapped his arms around my waist and leaned down to rest his forehead against mine.

  “I’ve missed you,” he whispered.

  I smiled and felt my body relax.

  “Have you?”

  “Yes.” He pulled me in more tightly. “I’m really sorry about yesterday, about … what my mom said.”

  I straightened up abruptly and his hands dropped to his sides as he gazed at me warily. We needed to have this conversation—now.

  “Does she know? About you and me?”

  He shook his head vehemently. “Of course not!”

  I looked into his eyes. “Because she said some things that made me think she did.”

  Sebastian looked horrified.

  “What did she say?”

  I shrugged.

  “Please!”

  I let out a long sigh, closing my eyes against the unpleasant memory.

  “She said I’d been ‘flaunting’ myself and that I wasn’t ‘pure’, that she knew better. Sebastian, what does she know? She must know something or why would she have put it like that?”

  He ran his hands over his hair looking angry and upset, but stayed resolutely silent.

  “For God’s sake, tell me!”

  My voice was louder than I’d intended.

  He blinked and looked away. “I promise she doesn’t know anything, Caro. It’s just that…”

  He paused.

  “Just what?”

  “Just some shit my dad was talking. It’s nothing.”

  “Tell me!” I said forcefully.

  Sebastian looked at me angrily.

  “My dad said you were a hot piece of tail and that you wouldn’t be such an uptight bitch if your husband had been fucking you properly.”

  I felt sick.

  I walked to the kitchen sink, and leaned over it.

  “Is that … is that what people think of me?” I murmured.

  “No! God no! My father is an asshole, Caro. No one thinks that. Mitch, Bill, Ches—they all think you’re great. I mean, yeah, they think you’re gorgeous, who wouldn’t? But I promise they’ve never ever said anything like that.”

  I straightened up slowly and turned around to face him. He was standing with his arms out-stretched as if he wanted to touch me but was afraid to.

  “Are you hungry?”

  He was confused by the sudden change of topic, away from my self-flagellation.

  “Hungry?”

  “Yes. Did you eat at the club tonight?”

  His hands fell to his side and for a second he closed his eyes tiredly, before walking toward me and taking me into his arms.

  I tried to resist, still raw from his father’s words.

  “Caro, don’t push me away.”

  He wrapped his arms around my shoulders and held me.

  “I’m sorry, okay. I’m sorry I told you what that asshole said. Hell, you should hear what he calls me sometimes … well, maybe not. I don’t listen anymore. All that matters is that we’re together, okay?”

  I didn’t answer.


  “Okay?” he said again, more forcefully.

  I took a deep breath.

  “Okay,” I agreed, quietly.

  He kissed my hair and smiled down at me.

  We stood there for some minutes, just enjoying a moment of peace.

  “So, are you hungry?” I said at last. “Did you eat tonight?”

  He rolled his eyes at me and I had to smile.

  “No, we were slammed—I didn’t have time.”

  “I’ll fix you something to eat: linguini, pesto and pine nuts okay?”

  “You don’t have to cook for me, Caro,” he said frowning slightly.

  “I want to. Besides, you haven’t eaten … and you’ll need your energy.”

  I grinned up at him and he gave in with good grace.

  “Well, in that case, yeah, I’m starving.”

  He pulled out a chair and sat at the table watching me.

  “So, how was work? Anything interesting happen today?”

  I was determined that we would have some normal conversation.

  “I did that First Aid training certificate this morning. It was all stuff I’d done at the surf lifesaving club, so it was pretty easy. I’ll be mostly working poolside with Ches from now on.”

  “You don’t like waiting tables?”

  “Not so much: I’d rather be outside.”

  “Are you sure it’s not just a chance to impress bored, horny Navy wives with your gorgeous body?”

  “There’s only one woman I want to impress,” he said, returning my smile.

  “How’s that going for you?”

  “Well, it was a bit touch-and-go for a while, but she’s making me dinner, so I guess it’s going okay. How was your day?”

  “Good. I finished another article and have planned out three more. I was afraid I might run out of material, but I’ve got enough ideas to write a whole book, I think. Oh, and I looked up some photography courses at NYU. Have you decided which classes you want to take in the Spring?”

  When he didn’t answer, I looked up from the chopping board—Sebastian was sitting, rocking back on the chair, a huge smile on his face.