by Claire Adams
She smiled. It was a warm, tender smile. One that felt like she was patting me on the head like a good dog. I guessed that was better than a smirk or a slap to the face, both of which I was deserving of.
“Okay,” she said, slapping her hands on her thighs. “All right, then. I need to get going. I’ll see you Wednesday.”
I stood, not sure if that was exactly the conversation we needed to have, but I felt a little better. She seemed a bit more relieved as well, so I figured I should leave it at that. I didn’t want to leave it though. What I really wanted to do was grab her around the waist, pull her in close, and ravish her mouth.
Shocked with myself, I blinked, frozen with the knowledge of my sudden need to have her. If she knew how badly I was craving her, she would run out of the room screaming. I walked past her and unlocked the door.
“Have a good weekend,” I said, standing off to the side to make sure there was no contact as she went by. I watched as she walked down the hall, instantly feeling her absence. I wanted her… in more ways than one.
The beginning of next week was going to be rough without her around. She pushed open the double doors, sunlight filling the area, enveloping her and creating a spectacular silhouette. I stood there, unable to move as she walked away. It felt like a loss. A loss similar to what I had experienced when Miriam and Ally were killed.
It was clearly not the same, and it made no sense that I would feel this way, but I did. I felt bereft without her company. I wanted to spend every minute with her, and her absence was stealing away precious time.
I needed to get it together. Thank God I had the barbecue this weekend. I needed to get out of the school and hopefully put Tessa out of my mind. Jake better be prepared to keep me entertained. I couldn’t afford to fall in love or lust with a student. No way could I jeopardize my job.
Chapter 16
Tessa
“I miss her,” I choked out. I had been fighting back the tears all day, but now, sitting here in the silence, it was too much.
My mom leaned in, wrapped her arms around me. “I know, hon. I miss her, too. I don’t think we’ll ever not miss her.”
I stared at the headstone my mother and I had picked out together. It had taken months for it to be completed and set up. Now, as I sat on the grass in front of the four-foot high edifice that marked my sister’s final resting place, I realized it was worth the wait.
My mom had spent a small fortune on the white stone with an engraving of an angel and my sister’s name. It was beautiful. We had come to the cemetery early to clean up around her spot in this field of sadness. We put several bouquets of new flower arrangements in each of the pots. That was another extra my mom had demanded. She wanted Talia’s grave to be in bloom all the time.
“The headstone is really pretty, Mom,” I told her, knowing she needed to hear it.
She nodded. “It is. She would be proud to have this above her head.” Though she said the words with a smile, I knew she was dying inside.
“How often do you come out here, Mom?” I asked her.
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Once a week. Sometimes more if I have the time.”
I nodded, expecting as much. My mom was up here in Georgia all alone. My dad had left us when Talia was a baby, and my mother had stayed single the whole time. She always told us we were her priority. With me in Florida and Talia gone, I wanted her to find someone.
“Are you sure you’re doing okay, Mom?”
She chuckled. “Well, I don’t know how okay any mother can be after they’ve buried a child, but yes, I think I’m doing fine. I’ve joined a group at the church. It’s for single ladies of a certain age,” she winked.
I laughed. “You aren’t going to bars, are you? I don’t think I could handle it!” I joked.
“Tessa, how could you think such a thing?” She lowered her voice. “But we do get together at one of our houses every Friday night and enjoy a few bottles of wine. We call it our book club meeting, but I don’t know that any of us has ever even opened the book we are reading.”
I threw my head back and laughed. “Mom! You wild woman!” I got serious. “I’m glad, though. I really am. I worry about you.”
“Oh, Tessa, don’t worry about me. I’m really okay. I have my friends and the support group. Although, I think we do more baking then talking, but for most of us, baking is therapy,” she assured me.
I nodded. “Okay, if you ever feel like it’s too much, you call me, and I’ll come home.”
She shook her head. “Oh no, you won’t, young lady. You will finish school. I didn’t scrimp and save all those years for you to drop out when the finish line is so near. You keep your head in the game and don’t you dare give up.”
“I won’t. I promise,” I vowed, hoping I could it. It was going to be tough, tougher yet with that whole kiss business to get through.
“Are you hungry?” my mom asked, standing and wiping off her butt.
I didn’t think I was, but I knew my mom wanted to feed me. It’s what moms did. “Sure. What are you in the mood for?”
She looked at me and smiled. “How about that horrible little diner that Talia always made us go to?”
I wrinkled my nose. “Really? You hate that place!”
She shrugged. “I do, but I think it is only fitting that we finish our day here with a meal at her favorite restaurant. Maybe I’ll even get her favorite chocolate milkshake and dip my fries in it.”
That made me laugh. “Mom, I cannot imagine you ever doing something like that.”
“I’ve turned over a new leaf. I’m trying all kinds of new things. What about you? Are you trying new things?” she asked, and I suddenly felt guilt wash over me.
“No,” I blurted out.
She gave me that look. She knew I was lying, but thankfully she didn’t press the issue. I could not even imagine how that conversation would go.
We settled ourselves into a booth at the small diner and waited for a waitress to take our order.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” I said, in a low voice.
My mom laughed. “Since when did you get picky about where you eat?”
I shrugged, I didn’t think I was picky, but I did have some standards. This place was at the very bottom of the standard pile.
As my mom promised, she ordered a chocolate milkshake to go with her burger and fries. I couldn’t let her commit such a grievous sin alone and ordered the same. We dug in once our meals were served.
“Don’t tell anyone I said so, but this is absolutely divine,” my mom said sucking ice cream off a salty fry.
I nodded my head in agreement. My mouth was too full to talk. It was really good, better than I could have imagined. If only I hadn’t been such a stick in the mud when Talia had tried to get me to try it so many years ago. I wondered if Ian would like it. What the hell? Why was I thinking about Ian and what he did or didn’t like?
“You going to eat those last few fries?” my mother asked.
I raised an eyebrow at her. I couldn’t believe she put away her whole meal. The woman barely broke five-foot-tall and didn’t weigh more than a hundred pounds.
“No. Go ahead. Unlike you, my metabolism isn’t quite so forgiving,” I lamented.
“Oh, pooh.” My mother waved her hand, holding one of her snatched fries. “You’re as skinny as ever, and I know you don’t do any kind of working out. You were blessed with my genes. Consider yourself lucky. Your father is probably four hundred pounds by now if his eating and drinking habits stayed the same as they were.”
My mom rarely talked about my dad. None of us did. He walked out and made it very clear he wanted nothing to do with us. We didn’t waste time trying to worry about why and all that crap. My mom was enough parent to be both our mom and dad. Talia and I had wanted for nothing.
“I love you, Mom,” I said, suddenly feeling the need to say it out loud.
She looked at me funny. “I love you too, dear.”
She finished the la
st few fries, and we headed to her car.
“Do you want to take a walk around the town square? I don’t think you’ve been down there since—” She stopped.
I hadn’t been there since Talia died. It was somewhere we used to hang out a lot together.
“Sure. That’d be nice. It’ll help walk off some of that lunch,” I said.
I sat back and watched the scenery as my mom drove down roads that were once so familiar. I missed the trees in Georgia, covered in Spanish moss. It was so beautiful; I often questioned if my decision to move to Florida was the right one.
Mom parked the car, put change in the meter, and we began our walk. We stayed silent as we walked down the cobblestone sidewalks.
“I don’t think anything has changed,” I mused.
“Well, I think all of these little shops have changed owners, some several times, but they always maintain the name and the goods to make it feel like it’s the same,” my mom said with a knowing voice.
I took her word for it. She dragged me into a few antique shops. I provided the prerequisite oohs and aahs when appropriate, but my mind was elsewhere. It was on Ian. I couldn’t stop thinking about the man, which was making me a little crazy. The kiss had been so great. It was odd that I liked it so much. Not just ‘liked’ — ‘obsessed’ was the right word. Maybe it was the twelve-year age gap compared to other men I had kissed. He had more practice—a lot more practice.
“Something on your mind?” my mom asked with a look that said she knew I was preoccupied.
“No, I was checking out those antique rings. They are very unique,” I quickly said.
She didn’t believe me but didn’t press the issue. Thank God.
My mom would definitely not approve of me getting into a relationship with a professor. I knew that she wouldn’t care about the age gap, but the fact that he was a professor and I was a student, that would piss her off. She would lay into Ian as well as myself.
“I think we’ve done enough walking,” Mom said. “Let’s just head back to the house.”
I nodded in agreement. I wanted some time alone to think about what I should do about Ian. I had to figure it out before things went too far and one of us did something we truly regretted. His job was on the line, as was my degree. We both had too much to lose.
We pulled into the driveway, and I stared up at the familiar doorway and the same potted flowers that my mom always kept up. It all looked as it should, but I knew when I walked through that door, nothing was as it should be. Talia should be in there. But she wasn’t and never would be again.
“Don’t,” my mom started. “I know it’s hard.”
I nodded, blinking back the tears that had formed. I walked inside and went straight to my room. Flopping down on my bed once I was alone, I let the tears fall. I needed this release. As the tears streamed down my face, my mind drifted back to Ian. How many times had he laid in his bed like this, crying over his dead wife and child?
He was a gentleman. Although we had only gotten the chance to talk a couple of times, I had learned a lot about him in the things he said. His passion for the ocean drew me in, but he was more than that. He was kind and considerate. I loved watching him check the desks after each class. He had taken on this caretaker position when no one expected or asked for it.
I had to make sure he understood that we could never be an item. We could never kiss again. Hopefully, once we both said our piece, we could do away with that horrible awkwardness we had on Friday. That was awful, and there was no way I could go the entire school year with him being all weird. It was better for both of us. I know he will understand and be on board.
“Tessa, I’ll be in the garden,” my mom called out, interrupting my musings. I smiled. Whenever mom was stressed, she headed for her garden. She had more produce than she knew what to do with, but she insisted on growing more and more every year.
“I’ll help,” I called out, deciding I could use a little manual labor to get my mind off things and people, namely Ian.
At least my obsession with Ian and the kiss kept my mind off the other more obvious worries. Being back in Georgia would have been much harder had I not had something else to worry about. I guess there was a little good in everything, no matter how horrible the situation was.
Chapter 17
Ian
I sipped my beer, like a good guest at what was a very lively barbecue, but it wasn’t quite hitting the spot. I couldn’t seem to get into the party. I know I’m being a stick in the mud, but I can’t seem to snap out of it. This is why people don’t invite me to parties or backyard barbecues. I’m a bore. I can bring down the liveliest get together without even trying.
“Ian, come, sit down, man. Tell us how the new job is going,” one of my old friends calls out.
I sighed, accepting the invitation, but not really feeling it. I sat down in one of the patio chairs, feeling a little out of place. These guys got together quite often. I was the newcomer, even if I had known them for most of my life.
“How’s it going, Ian, with the new job?” my friend William asked.
He had been one of my closest friends. After the accident, we drifted apart. I took full responsibility for that separation; I had just been in no mood to go out with the guys. I preferred to wallow in self-pity and misery.
“It’s going pretty good,” I lied. “I like the smaller class sizes and fewer classes in general.”
“Good. I’ve heard it’s a great school,” he said.
Another guy came to sit down. “You’re a teacher?” he asked. This was not a face I was familiar with.
I nodded. “A professor, at the local university.”
“Cool. I didn’t know professors were as young as you. Are there are lot of gorgeous young ladies hot for the teacher?” the unidentified gentleman asked.
I took a sip of beer. The question was stupid and one you would expect to hear at a bar with a bunch of young guys. I had no intention of actually answering it, and chose to smile and drink my beer.
“Uh-oh, I think he’s telling us there are some young ladies he wants to bang!” the guy said. I wiped my mouth, prepared to tell him to fuck off when my friend intervened.
William abruptly stood. “Ian, come on; I want you to meet my boss.”
I looked at him, knowing he was removing me from the situation and was grateful for it. I went willingly, leaving the moron behind. This is why I didn’t do these public gatherings. I didn’t have the polite patience you were supposed to have when you encountered dipshits like that guy. Not anymore. William and a few others had tried to drag me out for a long time after Miriam died, but I had always refused. This was why. Eventually, they quit asking and left me to my own self-made hell.
“Sorry about that,” William muttered. “That guy is a pain in the ass. He’s Donny’s friend and somehow always manages to tag along. Tara is going to be pissed when she sees he’s here again. The fool had the audacity to criticize her steak marinade at the last barbecue we hosted. It was not pretty.”
I laughed as I imagined his petite wife, Tara, going after the guy with a cleaver. Jake had warned me. I couldn’t imagine criticizing someone who spent so much time preparing a meal for me in the first place.
“No worries, Will,” I assured him. “I’m doing a lot better, really. Don’t feel like you have to stick by my side. You have a whole slew of guests to entertain.”
“No way, you’re my VIP. Let’s go say hi to Tara. She’s going to be very excited you actually showed up,” he said, leading the way towards the patio doors.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea? I don’t want to invade her kitchen,” I said, very concerned for my health.
He grinned. “She isn’t going to kill the man she loves.”
I wasn’t so sure about that but followed him anyway. He knocked once and then twice in rapid motion.
“You have a secret knock?” I asked in shock.
He laughed. “Hell yeah. I don’t want to take the chance of her t
hinking I’m one of the guests and throwing a cleaver at my head or something.”
“What is it with a cleaver? Jake said something similar,” I asked out of curiosity.
He lowered his voice and leaned in. “A while back, one of our drunken guests kept harassing her in the kitchen. She threw her knife at the wall—next to his head. No one has dared step foot in the kitchen ever since.”
“Holy hell, man. Why are we going in here?” I asked again.
“She’ll be fine. I promise.”
I prayed she was. I was not interested in getting cleaved, or was it cleavered? Whatever.
“Tara?” he called out in a tentative voice.
“William, why are you in my kitchen?”
He stepped to the side, revealing me. I wanted to run in the opposite direction when I saw the little woman holding a giant knife and chopping vegetables.
“Ian!” she screamed, running towards me, knife still in hand.
I looked to William for help, but he only smiled. A split second before Tara threw her arms around my neck, William deftly pulled the knife out of her hand. I don’t think she even knew she was still holding it. I accepted her hug and even hugged her back.
She pulled back after a good ten seconds and put my face between her hands. “It’s so good to see you. I can’t believe you’re actually here. Standing in my kitchen,” she said with a change in tone, lowering her gaze at William. “But I’ll forgive it just this once.”
“How are you, Tara? Still working at the same place or have you opened your own restaurant yet?” I asked, genuinely interested.
She rolled her eyes, reclaimed her knife and went back to chopping veggies. “Not yet. I’m still working for that putz. I hope to have enough money set aside within the next year to take the plunge on my own.”
“That’s great. Good to hear,” I said, suddenly out of things to talk about.
“We better get back out there,” William said, walking over and giving his wife a quick kiss on the cheek.
