While that wasn't much of a loss—at least as far as Jake was concerned—two thoughts raced through his mind.
How did she get her hands on four jackstands? and Where the hell are my tires?
* * *
"You . . . played . . . dirty," Jake grunted between strokes. Ann Marie wrapped her arms and legs around him.
He pressed her against the wall, driving deep inside her pussy. She absorbed every blow with a gasp or a moan. His pants were down around his ankles, her clothes were strewn about the living room.
Jacob made a game of trying to rattle the picture frames as he pounded Ann Marie for "cheating" in their bet.
"You're . . . just . . . a . . . sore . . . loser!" she taunted.
With one hard thrust, Jake pushed his cock all the way up to the hilt and then shot off. Ann Marie giggled and hugged him tight.
"We'll see who's sore in the morning," he laughed. Ann Marie untangled her legs and set her feet on the floor. Jake leaned against her, his cock still inside her sex.
They nibbled on each other until he regained his strength. He started to take her hand, but she pushed him away.
"Not tonight, loverboy," she said. "You lost . . . that means a week of sleeping alone for you!"
He sighed—pouted even—but it didn't do any good.
"You know you're losing out, too."
"I just want you to miss me so you appreciate the mornings we have together," she said with a loving smile. "Besides, I think I might make a date with Mr. Rabbit."
Jake rolled his eyes as he pulled his pants up. "I never should have bought you that thing."
Ann Marie gathered up her clothes and then walked him to the door. He turned as if to plead to be allowed to stay, even knowing that wouldn't happen. It was all part of the deal.
"Good night, Jake," she whispered before standing up on her toes to give him a kiss. "Sleep tight. Prom's tomorrow and we've got a big night. Miss me."
With a resigned smile, he took her in his arms, gave her a loving squeeze and went home. On the four donuts he found in the bed of his truck. He was going to have to have a talk with Mr. Daugherty and the auto shop class.
After Christmas, things moved quickly for the pair. They were clearly a couple, although neither seemed to be in a hurry to move their relationship to the next level. They sometimes held hands before or after school, but tried to remain as professional as possible.
The next five months seemed to fly by. The yearbook was finished and Jake took the Quiz Bowl team to the state championships. They spent spring break at his parents's cabin in Montreat, North Carolina.
He felt comfortable around her. Things weren't perfect, by any means. They even had their first fight. It was over something stupid, but they got past it and had their first make-up sex. He was around to fix stuff for her. She cooked for him and put a little bit of much-needed meat on his bones.
Everyone in the school was happy for them. The students teased them a little, but otherwise left them alone. There was more than enough other drama going on; it was a high school, after all.
The prom fell on the second weekend in May, which was right before the state-mandated standardized testing. It couldn't be avoided, though. In their small rural community, the Sandalwood Country Club was the only venue large and nice enough to host the prom, and through some scheduling fluke, that was the only weekend it was available. They made the best of it; what choice did anyone have?
Neither Jake nor Ann Marie were on the prom committee, although both volunteered to help. Most of the teachers in the school would be there. In their small county, it was a good bet that most everyone around would stop by at one point or another. He picked out a nice suit and knew Ann Marie would be wearing a favourite dress.
Jake went home and called her. They talked for a while then he went to sleep, dreaming of ways to win their next bet.
The next night, Jake picked Ann Marie up at her house. He even brought her flowers. Neither was as dolled up as the kids, but then again, it was their night, not the teachers's. Several of the teachers and their spouses/significant others met for dinner at a nice restaurant, then they drove over to the dance.
Mr. Davis and Mrs. Cromartie jokingly said that they had slipped Jake's and Ann Marie's names into the ballot box for Prom King and Queen; he laughed and she blushed.
"So was your prom different than this one?" she asked as the kids assembled outside the country club.
"Aside from some of these dresses costing more than Tracy's wedding dress? Not really," Jake replied. "Kids are kids. The only thing that changes is the price tag."
"And there seems to be less and less to the girls's outfits every year," a slight frown of disapproval crossed Ann Marie's face. "It's a shame because some of these girls can't afford really nice dresses and it seems they're almost ashamed to come in what their mammaw made them."
That much was true. Prom outfits—especially dresses—seemed to be an arms race of sorts. The handful of wealthy families in the county pulled out all the stops while the majority of the kids struggled to find something affordable. It was hard for a girl whose family might be on food stamps to compete with a silver-spooned princess whose family could get her a thousand dollar prom dress and a stretch Hummer limo. And in high school, the haves made sure to rub it in to the have-nots.
"At least Brenda and Andy were able to get a handful of dresses donated for some of the girls who couldn't afford them." Jake watched a stream of seniors line up for the grand promenade. "What was your prom like?"
"It was much smaller than this," she smiled at the pleasant memory. "We had two hundred students in the entire school. This was before they consolidated the five high schools into Fitzpatrick. It was nice, though. We had a lot of fun."
"How much fun?" Jake asked with a sly smile.
"Not that much fun," she pinched his arm. "Remember, I was a virgin before you came along. Ryan Beauchamp never had a chance with me."
"I'm sure he tried," he took her hand and squeezed it lovingly.
"Yes, he did," Ann Marie rolled her eyes and laughed. "He was still trying a year ago when he came back from St. Louis with his flashy red sports car and that big fancy Rolex."
"So why didn't you take mercy on his poor soul," Jake teased.
"Because his soul isn't my problem. That and I don't go for guys with hair plugs," she giggled.
"The guy can't help that. Blame his father."
"I can't do that. Mr. Beauchamp is too sweet."
"So if I were balding, you wouldn't go out with me?" Jake asked as the principal began announcing the couples attending the prom. Each stood under a flower-wrapped trellis as they were announced.
"Jake, I'd go out with you if your face was burned with acid and you lost both legs to a bear trap."
"Let's hope that doesn't happen," he said dryly.
"I'm sure it won't," Ann Marie said. "Besides, I wasn't about to sleep with Ryan. Not when I was saving myself for you."
Jacob put his arm around his date. He reached into his jacket and pulled out an index card and handed it to her.
Ann Marie started to say something flippant until she read the card. She drew in a sharp breath. Her eyes looked up at Jake then back to the card, as if she couldn't quite believe the words. She began to well up with tears. Tears of joy.
"Yes," she whispered. "Yes . . . you know I do."
Reaching into her purse she drew out a pen and checked the "yes" box.
"Good," he replied softly so that only she could hear. "I love you, too."
* * *
"And . . . time!" Jake said. "Pencils down. Place your answer sheets inside the test booklet with your name at the top."
He walked around the room collecting the test materials. The students stretched and yawned.
"This concludes the Skills Assessment Exam," he said and proceeded to read the remainder of the state-mandated closing to the test. "As soon as they ring the bell, we'll head out to lunch and then finish up the class tournaments
. Find something to do that's quiet; other classes may still be testing."
Jake finished a handful of administrative things, then boxed up the tests. A few minutes later, they principal announced that all the tests were complete and that lunch would be served. The week of the SAE was always chaos.
Many of the students mentally checked out. Some of the teachers, too. The tests were given in the morning. The afternoons were reserved for the class tournaments, when teams of students could compete in various competitive activities ranging from basketball to baseball to volleyball to Quiz Bowl to the JROTC obstacle course.
The class who accumulated the most points in all the events got their year engraved on a trophy in the main hallway. This year's junior class had won the year before and was on the verge of winning back to back. There were two final events: volleyball in the auxiliary gym and girls and boys basketball in the main gym.
Following the principal's announcement, the class filed out of Jake's classroom and headed towards the cafeteria. Ann Marie was waiting for him in the hallway. Because of her seniority, she had a senior home room, which meant she didn't have to give the SAE. Her kids showed up on Monday and Tuesday mornings for graduation rehearsal, then only came to school for the class tournaments. Jake suffered with a homeroom full of sophomores.
They went down to the teacher's lounge and sat around with half a dozen of their colleagues. Everyone was ready for the school year to end. They compared notes and were trying to figure out their schedules for the next year.
An hour later, the games started in the gyms. All of the teachers took a turn alternately cleaning up their rooms, patrolling the hallway for roaming students and rotating through the gyms to keep an eye on the kids there.
Half an hour before the last bell rang, everyone was called to the main gym. It easily accommodated the entire staff and student body. A few years ago, it would have been packed, but now there were a few empty rows in the bleachers. The flagging economy caused many people to take their kids elsewhere in search of jobs.
Jake and Ann Marie joined the rest of the staff along the back wall of the gym. They talked idly among themselves and with some of the students. The principal praised the school for their effort during the state-wide tests, wished the seniors luck for the next year and reminded those students who would be returning that great things were expected of them.
Then he began handing out a few awards. Some were to the star athletes and students who earned some of the more prestigious scholarships to local colleges. He announced that the juniors had once again won the class tournament. That brought cheers of "three-peat" from that section and jeers of "you suck" from the other three classes.
"We have one final award to give out," Mr. Pressman said into the microphone. "Miss Armstrong would you please come out here."
The students cheered; she was one of the favourite teachers in the school.
"Miss Armstrong, each year the county board of education recognises an outstanding educator for their exemplary work in the class room," he said as Sally Barnett handed him a plaque. She made sure to wink at Jake as she stepped to the side. Mr. Pressman handed the plaque to Ann Marie. "After being nominated by your peers and selected by a committee made up of administrators, teachers, students and parents, it is my pleasure to present you with the Lincoln County Teacher of the Year award."
The staff and students broke into applause and cheers. Ann Marie blushed.
"You get not only this fabulous plaque to hang in your room, but your name will be forwarded on to the state Teacher of the Year committee, you get a small grant," Mr. Pressman paused for some more polite applause. "And we have one other thing for you."
Ann Marie was so preoccupied by the principal that she didn't notice Jacob sneaking up behind her. He didn't need to move so quietly once the screaming started. The students on the "home" side of the gym saw it first, and they began to cheer excitedly. Mr. Pressman's smile beamed. She turned her head, obviously bewildered. Some students were pointing and shouting, so she turned to look behind her.
That's when she saw Jake kneeling before her. He had a mischievous grin on his face. And a ring in his hand.
He smiled, happy to have pulled one over on her.
Her body started to shake. She covered her mouth to keep from screaming herself. Tears rolled down her cheeks.
Over Jake's shoulder on a newly-unfurled banner that had been cleverly concealed in the rafters, she saw the words she had waited a lifetime to hear above boxes marked "yes" and "no".
Ann Marie, will you marry me?
* * *
Epilogue
Jake and Ann Marie were married the following summer. He moved into her house the night of their engagement, despite the fact that he still hadn't fulfilled his week-long penance for losing their bet. They never again woke up anywhere except in each others's arms.
They went on to teach together at Fitzpatrick High for another four years. Then something funny happened: on her way back from her mother's one Saturday afternoon, Ann Marie stopped by the store to pick up some groceries and purely on impulse, bought a Super Lotto ticket.
The jackpot was nearly $23 million dollars, and even after taking the lump sum instead of the annuity and paying all the appropriate state and federal taxes, they cleared just over $7 million.
She walked into to the school board office the following Monday and declared her intent to retire at the end of the school year. Then she went into her medicine cabinet and threw out her birth control pills.
Jake and Ann Marie fucked like rabbits until she peed on a stick and it turned blue. After that first one, they had five more. Jacob taught for another twenty-one years, finally retiring with thirty-two years of service. He was beloved by all of his students and had some of his first students's children and even one grandchild.
In their retirement, they traveled and volunteered for local charities. They were never far from each other and were quick to share their infectious laughs and secret smiles. Jacob died peacefully in his sleep at the ripe old age of ninety-two. Not thirty-six hours later, Ann Marie followed. Their children said that they weren't meant to be apart.
As the six kids were cleaning out their parents's house, they found a lifetime's worth of index cards, each with a question on them. On nearly every one, the "yes" box was checked.
The last note the pair had passed was marked with one of the few "no" checks. Ann Marie had written it the day before Jake died. It said, Can you live without me?
THE END
* * *
Christmas Wrapping
* * *
Bah, humbug!
No, that's too strong, because Christmas is my favourite holiday.
It's just that in the romance department, I've had a really bad year. It started the last over New Year's break. My then-boyfriend and I went away for a long weekend to go skiing, but it seemed that Mr. Edward A. Murphy, Jr. (and his stupid, frickin' law) had other ideas.
First of all, we rented a condo outside of Gatlinburg, but the weather was unseasonably warm. Although there was a good base of snow—both natural and machine-made—the fact that the high one day was in the low 50s made the trip seem more like a fall excursion than a ski trip.
Second, Britt didn't get his flu shot the previous October and spent most of the weekend with a fever and puking up whatever food he managed to get down. Real romantic, huh?
Last, on the Sunday before we were supposed to fly home, I twisted my knee when one of those twerpy little eight year-old kids that plague the ski slopes zigged in front of me, causing me to zag to the right. Only my left leg didn't get the memo and I ate a face full of icy and wet snow. I like (and want) kids, but I swear to God, if I'd had my .38 special with me, I'd have whacked that little punk right then and there.
So that weekend was a bust. The only saving grace was a literal run-in I had on Saturday while perusing the ski shop for a chincy souvenir or two.
"I know you," he said. Pretty lame opening line. Kind o
f plain. Not very memorable. The East German judge docked him two points for being lazy. It turns out I really did know him, though. "Veronica Turner, right?"
He seemed familiar, but it took me a second to place his face. Tall, dark and handsome. Perfect skin, good teeth. Rugged good looks and boyish charm.
"Jonathan Reilly," he said, seeing my blank look. "From Perry & Associates."
"Of course," I replied sheepishly. There really is no graceful way to forget someone's name, is there? I knew him from some auditing work I did; he was a regular at one of the firms I visited once a month or so. "How have you been?"
"Good . . . Trying to get some time on the slopes." An awkward silence fell over us. "What about you?"
I waved the shot glass in my hand. "Just picking up something for the girl who sits next to me. She collects these things and doesn't have one from Tennessee."
He flashed his big baby blues at me and my heart fluttered. I had run into him in the elevator a couple of times and usually when I saw him, he was in a stuffy, corporate double-breasted suit. But this time, his hair was ruffled, his ski jacket hung open because it wasn't that cold and I noticed that he was rather attractive. Hawt, actually.
"Listen, I'm here with some friends and we're having some folks over tonight for drinks," he flashed me that oh-so-charming smile. "Do you want to come hang out with us?"
"I'd love to," I winced with regret. "But my boyfriend's not feeling well and I've got to get back to him so he doesn't feel like I left him for a lift ticket and a pair of skis."
I couldn't tell if the disappointment on his face was from me turning him down or finding out that I was seeing someone. Either way, a part of me felt flattered that he'd wanted to see me that night. It was better than being taken for granted by the guy I was dating.
"Sorry to hear that," he reached for his wallet and passed me his business card. "We're staying near downtown. If he's feeling better later, give me a call and come on over."
"Okay," my eyes skimmed the card, which had his work phone, email and his cell phone number on it.
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