by Karen Booth
“I see,” said Ms. Layton.
Alex sighed.
“Mrs. Halford? Do you have anything you want to say before I decide Page’s punishment?”
“Uh, no.” She looked over at David and he shrugged. “Well, actually, yes. You should probably know that things have been, um, a little unsettled, at home. My husband left us about a month ago.”
“More like you made him leave,” Page mumbled.
Alex cleared her throat and fought to keep her composure. She didn’t want to make things any worse at school and she still hadn’t spoken to the boys about the divorce. “So, I hope you will understand that Page is going through a difficult time, and we’ll do everything we can to make sure this never happens again.”
Ms. Layton sat back in her chair, which made a noisy squeak. “All right then. I still need to speak with Matt and his parents, but I think this warrants a week of detention and a warning. If this happens again, Mr. Halford, there will be much more serious consequences. I’m talking suspension. Anything beyond that and you’ll be looking for a new school. Understood?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good. Now back to class.”
****
After dinner that night, during which Page dared not utter a word, Alex called Lisa while David took the boys for their nightly swim. She curled up on the couch in the living room, listening through the open windows to the sound of the three playing Marco Polo in the pool.
Lisa lent a sympathetic ear, although not having her own kids, she wasn’t overly supportive of Alex’s assertion she should cut Page some slack because he was going through a hard time.
“Personally, I’d give that kid a good smack. That’s what my dad did to me. I turned out great.”
“Yeah, well, I took his cell phone for a week. The school is taking care of the rest.”
“Have you talked to him about the fight?”
“A little. David is going to have a talk with him about it later tonight.”
“Oh, really?” Lisa’s voice turned sultry. “Can he have a talk with me about something when he’s finished? Maybe a swat or two on the behind? I’ve been a very naughty girl.”
“Gross.”
“Has it been hard living in the same house with him? I’d be dying. Seeing that face in the kitchen every morning.”
Actually, it is nice.
“And that ass,” she continued. “That man has got an ass that could stop traffic. Mmm. Yummy.”
“Yummy?” She’s right. Not that I should be thinking about his ass.
“What’s he doing right now?”
“He’s in the pool with the boys.”
“And you’re on the phone with me when you could be ogling him without his shirt on?”
“Lisa, please. I don’t ogle.” At least I try not to. “And I’m still married.”
“You’re not married. You’re a few signatures away from being separated and the next thing you know, you’ll be divorced. Don’t forget your soon-to-be ex-husband cheated on you about fifty times, too. Not that I’m encouraging you to go after David. I still want a shot at him.”
Alex groaned in exasperation. “I’m not exactly in matchmaker mode right now.” She heard Tyler yelling again, only this time it had a shrill tinge to it. “Hey, Lis. I gotta run. Talk tomorrow?”
“Sure. Say hi to David for me. Love you.”
Alex tucked her phone into her back pocket and moved closer to the window. Tyler was no longer yelling, but he sounded agitated and she could hear Page and David as well. She looked out to see the three of them standing in the shallow end, David squarely between the two boys.
“Guys, you need to cut it out. Your mom’s had a hard day.”
“It’s not my fault. Doofus is just a big baby.” Page glared at his brother.
“And you’re a big stupid dummy,” Tyler retorted while David tried to hold him back. “I’m gonna punch you. You can’t call Mommy those names.”
“Oooh. I’m real scared.”
David ducked lower and looked Tyler in the face. “Look, buddy, can you go sit on the side of the pool so I can talk to your brother? Then we can get this worked out and jump off the diving board some more.”
“Okay.” He trudged to the wide steps in the shallow end, splashing the water in frustration as he went.
David turned back to Page. “You’re on thin ice after today. Don’t piss off your little brother. It makes it miserable for your mom.”
“She wrecked our whole family. She should be miserable. She’s a bitch.”
“You really don’t want to talk about your mom like that around me.” The intensity in David’s voice caught Alex by surprise. “I know I’m not your dad, but please don’t call your mother a bitch again. It’s disrespectful.”
“Why? Because you’re in love with her? I saw you staring at her the other day in the kitchen.”
Alex held her breath. Staring at me?
David cleared his throat. “I’ve known your mom most of my life and you’re living in my house. Please don’t say that stuff anymore.”
Chapter Ten
It’d been months since David had devoted any serious time to songwriting. The inspiration simply wasn’t there. He’d tried many times, moving around the house to various locations. Sitting outside by the pool had shown some promise, but he still hadn’t been able to get back into the groove he once had.
When he was seventeen and eighteen, the songs couldn’t stay contained in his head. They leaked out of him, as if they were some uncontrollable force, with their own personality and purpose and drive. Those were the years when he’d written what would become Double Damage’s biggest hits, many coming from the deepest recesses of his mind, the places where he hid his disappointment and frustration with his best friend dating the girl he wanted.
That morning out by the pool had been unexpectedly productive. A seed had been planted, and now that it had taken root, he could see the places he could take it and he couldn’t wait to get there. He scratched notes in his journal, ideas for lyrics, although some of them were for his eyes only, a few too many details pointed directly to Alex.
“There you are.” Alex wandered out to the pool. “Have you eaten lunch? I was going to make myself a sandwich.”
David set aside his guitar and closed his journal, wrapping a rubber band around it to contain the random scraps of paper he’d tucked between the pages. “Are you already home from the library? What time is it?” He hopped up from the chaise and strode toward her. The sun showed the silhouette of her legs through a long, flowing skirt. “You look nice.”
“Oh, thanks,” she looked down at herself and back at him. “It’s one thirty. You must’ve been pretty wrapped up in your new song if you skipped lunch.”
“I was. I mean I am. It’s not finished.” Together they walked down the hall to the kitchen, and David thought about the time and how long it would be until the boys would be home from school. There was enough time for many things—kisses, confessions. If only I had the guts.
Alex opened the fridge and pulled out packages of smoked turkey and Swiss cheese from the deli. “Can you grab the French bread?”
David handed her the baguette before he pulled a cutting board and knife from a drawer in the center island. “How was the library? Was Mr. Andrews there today? Still making passes?”
Alex smiled. “Can you hand me some plates? No, he kept his hands to himself today. He’s a nice man and he likes it when I read to him. I think he’s just lonely.”
“I don’t know. After last week, I’m surprised he didn’t try to stick his hand up your blouse. Not that I blame him.”
“Very funny. You think I like the fact that the only male attention I get is from an eighty-year-old widower with poor vision?” She quickly assembled the sandwiches and handed him his plate. “It’s a beautiful day. Let’s eat outside.”
They sat at the long, wood dining table on the patio beyond the pool. The arbor above shaded them from much of the mid-afternoon sun, wh
ich was especially warm for May.
“What’s the new song about?” Alex asked.
David coughed, holding his hand over his mouth to finish chewing, hoping he wouldn’t choke as the bite went down. “Uh, you know, the normal stuff.”
“It isn’t that Tanya woman is it? You could do a lot better, you know.” Alex sipped her iced tea, watching him, her eyes pale in the dappled light.
“No, it’s not about Tanya. We broke up weeks ago. Right after you moved in.”
“Nobody new since then, huh? Or have you been sneaking out in the middle of the night?”
David crinkled his lips. “I don’t go out with as many women as you think I do.”
“Is that what we’re calling it now? Going out?” She drew quotation marks in the air.
“I’m totally serious. I’m not like that, Alex. I don’t know where you get that from.”
“Uh, let’s see.” She scratched her temple. “You’ve been married once and engaged how many times? Four? I’m not even sure I remember the last one’s name.”
He picked up the second half of his sandwich but plopped it back on his plate. The conversation’s direction had put a damper on his appetite. “Is that supposed to be funny? It was Valerie.”
“Okay. I’m sorry. That was bitchy.” She took another sip of tea. “But I’m not exaggerating when I say that you’ve been with dozens and dozens of women, right?”
He went back to his sandwich, but it didn’t taste particularly good any more. “I never bothered to count.”
“I can see you with a woman, but the actual woman is a blur.” She closed her eyes, still almost angelic when pissing him off. “They’re all different. It’s like you can’t decide what you want.”
“Did you ever think that maybe I just can’t have what I want?”
Alex cocked her head in confusion. “You mean you can’t find what you want.”
“I meant what I said.” He gave up on the rest of his sandwich, now feeling queasy, wondering if Alex would finally figure this out so he wouldn’t have to explain it to her. Whatever her reaction, that would be a relief.
She sat back and clutched her napkin in her lap, watching him as he did the same to her. The only thing David could hear was the pounding of his own heart in his head.
“I’m sorry.” She stood and took his plate. “You’re a grown man. You should do whatever makes you happy.”
“It’s not that simple.” David pushed back from the table and took both plates from her. “Let me take those. You made lunch.”
“Okay,” she said, avoiding his eyes. “I have some laundry to put away in the boys’ rooms.”
The plates clattered as David placed them in the dishwasher. Why am I torturing myself? She doesn’t think of me as boyfriend material and she never will. She thinks I’m a womanizer. The thought of returning to his song was miserable. The last thing he felt like writing about right now was unrequited love and Alex.
Since he was already in a bad mood, he might as well go pay bills. He walked down the wide hall that went past the pool, to the other side of the house where his home office and the boys’ rooms were. When he turned the corner, he heard Alex’s voice.
“Oh my God. Oh. My. God.”
He rushed into Page’s room. “Are you okay?”
She whipped around. “Look what I found.” She held a box of condoms. “They’re open.” She pulled them from the package and they unfurled. “One, two, oh shit. There’s only four.” She turned the box upside down and shook it. “This is a package of twelve.” Her eyes pleaded with him as she clutched the box in one hand and the condoms in the other. “He’s thirteen. How can he be having sex?”
He proceeded with caution, as if she were a spooked, wild horse. He took them from her. “You don’t know that he’s having sex.” He rolled them up and returned them to the box, grinning. “You’d better put these exactly where you found them.”
“Why are you smiling? And what do you mean? Of course, he’s having sex. He has condoms. Most of them are gone.”
“Boys sometimes use them to practice. It’s perfectly normal.”
Alex’s brow furrowed. “Practice? Practice what?”
“First things first. Where did you find these?”
She plucked the box from his hands, opened the bedside table drawer and tucked them in at the very back, under some comic books. “Practice what?”
He fought a smile and the tingly sensations that coursed through him. He hadn’t exactly planned to talk to Alex about the sexual habits of teenage boys today. “Alex, come on. Think about it. They practice putting it on.”
She stared.
“You know,” he continued. “So they don’t look stupid in front of a girl.”
Alex buried her face in her hands. “Oh my God. I am so not ready for this.”
“Or sometimes…”
She dropped her hands and glared at him. “There’s more?”
“Sometimes they use them to jerk off. There’s less mess to clean up.” He laughed. “Not exactly eco-friendly.”
“I feel like I’m going to throw up. Jerking off, okay, fine. That’s normal, right? But this, this seems so…so advanced.” Alex trudged a few steps ahead with her shoulders hanging, stopping inches from him.
He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed. His hand caressed her back softly, but what he really wanted to do was trace his fingers down the length of her spine. “Once you figure out the basics, you tend to branch out.”
“Did you when you were his age?” Alex mumbled the question into David’s chest, the words causing a tremor that reverberated through every part of his torso.
“Uh, yeah. All the time.” She has no idea. I’m still coming up with new techniques. Talking about jerking off while holding Alex was more than he felt equipped to handle, and he created some distance between them to stem the tide. The diversion of blood flow to certain regions was about to make this a much more complicated conversation.
“Glenn should be here to deal with this shit. I suck at relating to teenage boys.”
“You’re doing great. But you should probably talk to him about it. Just to make sure he’s only experimenting.”
She sighed. “I can’t wait to have that conversation. So, honey, how was school? Have some milk and cookies. And by the way, have you been using condoms to whack off?”
“Alex, come on.”
“What? Isn’t this a dad’s job? Glenn should be doing this.”
“You don’t need Glenn.” He turned his head and inhaled her sweet, intoxicating smell. “You’re doing just fine without him.”
Chapter Eleven
David bounded into the kitchen, pure elation across his face. “The movie is huge. It sold out all over the country last night.” His eyes flashed with unbridled enthusiasm. “I just talked to Marty and they’re adding another four hundred theaters next week. They’re rushing the soundtrack into production. Our song is the first track.”
“That’s fantastic.” Alex noticed how the morning light and excitement of the moment managed to make him even sexier than usual. She needed to slap a cold compress to her forehead. “I’m so happy for you.”
“I want to take you and the boys out to celebrate. I was thinking Antonia’s.”
Tyler and Page both adored Antonia’s, an Italian place with a surprisingly romantic vibe for a restaurant best known for killer spaghetti and meatballs. “Sounds amazing. It’s a date.”
Alex made a run to her house to sift through her closet and pick up a dress—she hadn’t exactly planned to wear anything nice while living at David’s. The film crew had taken the weekend off and the house was eerie, almost as if it was no longer hers. Her furniture was re-arranged in the living room and everything had been cleared out of Tyler’s room, which had been painted a pastel pink and filled with white cottage style little girl furniture. Oh, shit. Better not let him see that. They’d assured her everything would be returned to its original state when filming wrapped, but this wa
s the one scenario Tyler most feared. Best to keep it a secret.
She sifted through her closet. “Too dressy.” She slid a dress along the rod to look at the next. “No. Too slutty. Ugh. What was I thinking?” After a good dozen passes, she came to the perfect one—black, her signature color, with a fitted sleeveless bodice and flared skirt that made her look as though she had some hips. It was low-cut, not that there was much to show off, but she remembered feeling confident in it the other time she’d worn it: her tenth wedding anniversary.
Glenn had been so sweet that day, bringing her flowers, drawing her a bath before she got ready to go out for dinner. Of course, he’d slipped into the tub with her, kissing her shoulder, her neck, her lips. He’d told her, “I love you” and, “You’re so beautiful,” and, “I don’t know what I would do without you.” He never shied away from words when they could improve his standing and he’d lavished them on her that day—everything she wanted to hear. She took each adoring sentiment as it came, drinking it in as she gazed into his blue eyes, his shoulder-length wavy black hair slicked back from the bath. She remembered the feel of his lips on hers and how difficult it had been to ignore the skepticism that crept in between kisses.
Their marriage had been in a semi-stable state that day, but there had been many rocky moments before, most notably the discovery of another of Glenn’s mistresses two months before. They meant nothing to him—that was always his excuse, as if that was supposed to make her feel any better. She’d only ever seen a few, but it stuck in her head how they were the exact opposite of her—blonde and busty, painted with make-up and teetering on stilettos, a disappointing rock ‘n’ roll cliché. The fact her husband found that attractive turned her stomach, beyond the obvious fact that he’d slept with other women.
Still, she was just as much to blame. She’d taken him back. Every time. Part of it was the boys. She couldn’t bear the thought of them going through a divorce, and Tyler needed stability. Part of it was good old Catholic guilt, even though they never went to church. She’d taken a vow, and dammit, she was going to keep it. Lastly, there was the fear. No guy other than Glenn had ever wanted her, and the thought of being alone and raising two boys was terrifying.
