by Tia Siren
*****
Three weeks later Sam was sitting at home wondering whether he should quit as coach. He was on the worst run he'd ever been. They'd lost the last four games, and he was beginning to doubt his abilities. Maybe he was getting too old to relate to these young college kids, he thought. They didn't seem to respect him like the other teams had. They certainly weren't prepared to walk through fire for him. As soon as things got tough most of them feigned injuries or avoided heavy tackles.
Then there was something else that had been bothering him. Something he'd tried to put to the back of his mind but couldn't. It wasn't right, but he couldn't help it.
''Lizzie, it's Sam,’' he said. ''I got your number from Cora, I hope you don't mind me calling.''
''Sam, hi. Er....no, it's great you called.''
''How are you?'' he asked.
''Okay. I'm not missing being a cheerleader; that's for sure. I've joined a reading club. We meet on Wednesdays; I love it.''
''Great. I wondered if you wanted to get something to eat? Talk?''
Lizzie didn't have to think twice. She'd often thought about the evening he'd saved her from having sex with Roger, and the morning after when they'd talked so openly. ''Yes I'd love to.''
''Friday?''
''Fine,'' she said.
When Friday arrived, Sam was surprised how nervous he felt. He had to admit to himself he felt like a schoolboy about to go on his first date. He was thirty-nine and Lizzie twenty-one, why was he nervous? The only conclusion he came to, and it was one he didn't really want to admit, was that he liked her more than he knew. He wasn't given to dreaming, but every time he closed his eyes, her pretty face was there.
''Wow you look different,'' he said when Lizzie walked into the Mexican restaurant.
''Is that a compliment?''
''Yes. I meant to say; you look lovely.'' Lizzie was wearing a black dress that showed off her bosom well and a pair of four-inch heels which made her almost as tall as Sam. Her blonde hair was tied in a ponytail giving her the kind of innocent look most men like.
''You've made an effort as well,'' she said looking at his suit.
They looked at the menu and ordered Taco's and a bottle of red wine. The restaurant was busy, but Lizzie and Sam had managed to find a table for two in an intimate corner where their conversation would go unheard.
''Why did you call me,'' Lizzie asked quizzically.
''Because I enjoyed your company for a couple of hours three weeks ago, and I wanted to see you again.''
Lizzie turned her wine glass around between thumb and forefinger. ''Last time we spoke you told me it was not right for us to meet, remember?''
Sam had thought how he would respond to her when she asked this question. ''I know. But I've been doing some thinking. Life's too short. If we get on, why not?''
''How's the team performing?'' she asked.
''Terrible. It's the worst run I've ever had. It's not a team it's a group of individuals.''
''Ah,'' Lizzie gasped as a huge plate of tacos arrived. ''If I eat all those, I'll never fit into this dress again.
''Nonsense you've got a perfect figure, a pig out now and then won't harm you, as long as you do regular exercise.''
''So what are you going to do with the team? How can you make it better.''
''Honestly, I have no idea. What's more, I don't care.''
'' That's not like you. Normally you can think of nothing but success.''
''I don't care because I'm with you tonight, and that's all that matters.'
''That's a nice thing to say.''
Sam looked at her face. Three weeks ago she'd looked pale, but she looked much healthier now. He liked the fullness of her lips and the soft gaze of her green, brown eyes. When she spoke her drop earrings swung from side to side, catching the light of the candle on their table.
''Can I be honest with you?'' Sam asked.
''I don't want you not to be.''
''I would like to do this more often. I like you.''
She slid her hand over the table and touched him on the arm. ''I like you too. A lot. When you rang, I was happy, elated even. I'd love it if we saw each other more often.''
''Doesn't the age gap worry you?'' he asked.
''Well, going out with an old man can have its advantages,'' she said.
''If you're going to be cheeky I'll have to deal with you like I do my players.''
''And how is that?''
''Hard.''
''I'd like that,'' Lizzie said. There was a silence, and they looked into each other's eyes. The gaze seemed to go on for a long time until Sam leaned over to her, and kissed her gently on the lips.
''Uhm, that tastes good,'' she said.
''Better than the food,'' he replied.
''So, how do you want to play this? Fast or slow?'' Lizzie asked.
''Er...what do you mean?''
''Do you want me in your bed tonight or do you want to court me some more first?''
Sam waved his fork around as if conducting an orchestra. ''You have a habit of asking difficult questions. What do you think?''
''That's unfair. You can't answer a question with a question.''
''I just did. What's you answer?'' he said.
''Okay. Let me see. On the one hand, it would be wonderful to sleep with you now. On the other hand, it would be wonderful to let the tension build. What do you think?''
Sam laughed. ''That's a great answer, that told me absolutely nothing at all. Okay, here's what I think.'' He looked around the restaurant as though checking to see no one was listening. ''I'd like to wait. Maybe it sounds old-fashioned, but I like the build up. Let's date a bit first.''
''I like that idea as well. Let's rack the tension up until we can't bear it anymore.''
''Is kissing allowed now?''
''Of course. That's part of the tension increasing process.''
*****
''Thanks for coming Sam,'' Dean Lehman said.
Sam looked at the grave looking people sitting behind the table in front of him. The hall they were in was huge. Sam remembered it dated back to eighteen thirty and was the first room ever used at the university. It was more like the banquet hall in an English castle than a room for academics. There were many coats of arms on the walls, and flags hung down from the beamed ceiling.
''Sam you know most of the people here. Collectively we are the people who make up the Ethics Committee here at Westchester,'' Dean Lehman said. He was a thin man of around sixty-five. His eyes appeared to be sunken inside his skull because his nose protruded so much. He also looked as if he needed a good meal.
''Yes, I know everyone here.''
''Good. Then I'll get straight to the point. Sam it has come to our attention that you have a relationship with a student. What do you have to say?''
''Are you referring to Lizzie Samson?''
''Yes.''
''I have been seeing her regularly for around three months.''
''Is your relationship intimate?'' the Dean asked.
''Is that any business of yours?'' Sam replied.
''The policy of the university towards staff, student relationships, is quite clear Sam. If a member of staff enters into an intimate relationship with a student, he or she should declare it.''
''Alright. We are dating but out relationship isn't intimate yet.''
''If you are dating that means it's intimate. I'm not only talking about the bedroom.'' the Dean said. ''In that case, Sam, you should have told us.''
''Alright. I'm telling you now.''
''There is also a question of abuse of power. Let me give you an example. If a male member of staff who teaches, say mathematics, begins a relationship with a female student who studies, say English literature, there is little conflict of interest. That member of staff has no professional responsibility for the student and isn't able to influence the outcome of her studies.'' The Dean paused for breath and looked around the room. ''In your case, however, it's different. Lizzie was part of
the sports scene here and you the head coach.''
''She was a cheerleader. That's got nothing to do with me as a football coach,'' Sam said abruptly.
''You are the head coach here, you are responsible for everyone who has anything to do with football and that includes the cheerleaders. You were in a position of trust, and you abused it.''
''But now she's no longer a cheerleader, she hasn't been to the football field for weeks.''
''That isn't the issue. At the time you began your relationship, she was in your charge.''
''No she'd already given up being a cheerleader.'' What the hell was the Dean trying to get at, Sam thought? Lizzie wasn't a cheerleader when he'd asked her out.
''Sam, we've spoken about the matter, and we've decided to suspend you on full pay for eight weeks. After that time, you will resume your role as head coach.''
Sam sat in stunned silence. ''Do you know what I have done for this college? All the trophies I've won for you. We have one of the greatest names in college football, and all you can do is suspend me on a technicality. Well, fuck you. Fuck you all. Do what you have to do. See if I care. I resign.''
''Sam, there's no need to......''
''No, Dean, stick your job where the sun doesn't shine.''
*****
''Sam, where are you? Please pick up,'' Lizzie said desperately. ''Why are you avoiding me?''
Sam sat on the sofa and listened to Lizzie as she spoke into his answering machine. She'd rung countless times during the course of the afternoon. He looked at the empty whiskey bottle and groaned. How the hell had it come to his, he asked himself? A few weeks ago his team had been winning, and he was a happy go lucky single and well respected. Now he'd been accused of professional misconduct, and he was probably out of a job.
''Hi sis, it's me.''
''Hey Sam what's up. You sound drunk.''
''That's because I am drunk. Listen, can I come and stay with you for a few days?''
''Sure. But what about work?''
''What work. I'm out of a job.''
''Jesus Sam, are you okay. Can I do anything?''
''I'll be with you tomorrow. Okay?''
The following morning Sam ignored all the calls Lizzie had made to him during the evening and night and packed his bag. It was six am, and he wanted to leave before Lizzie had a chance to come round. He locked the door, threw his bag into the trunk of his car and set off for the five hundred mile journey to Flushing Creek, his childhood home.
The journey passed uneventfully. He stopped a couple of times to refuel and eat, both times he ignored Lizzie's frantic texts.
''Hey Davy,'' Sam shouted as he pulled into the driveway at his sister's home and saw his seven-year-old nephew sitting on the yard wall.
''Uncle Sam,'' Davey exclaimed jumping from the wall and running to Sam's car. ''How long are you staying?''
''A few days,'' Sam said as he got out of the car. ''Here, I brought something for you.'' Sam reached onto the rear seat and handed Davey a new football with the name Westchester College in it.
''Wow, thanks,'' he said and ran off to test its aerodynamic potential in the yard.
''My older brother,'' Alison exclaimed as she put her arms around Sam.
''That's quite some bump you've got there.'' Sam put his hand on her swollen belly.
''Another six weeks and she'll be with us,'' Alison said proudly.
''That's great. How's George?''
''He's fine, working too hard as usual. But his firm is doing really well.''
Sam looked at the house his sister lived in, and could see how well her husband's business was doing. It was a large detached house with a pool and a tennis court.
''Come in and eat,'' Alison said.
After Sam had eaten, he rested for a while and talked to George when he arrived back from work. George was an accountant and a man Sam had nothing in common with at all. They managed to hold a conversation for thirty minutes before they resorted to the weather and intermittent silence.
''I'm going to the Lion to see what's going on,''Sam said at around eight.
The Lion was a music cafe in town which Sam used to frequent when he was young man.
''You're a bit too old for that aren't you?'' Alison joked.
''Thanks, sis,'' Sam shouted as he closed the door behind him.
The town looked just the same as it had twenty years ago. It was a sleepy place with around three thousand inhabitants. The Lion was on the corner of the main square, and as Sam approached it, he heard the familiar sound of jazz emanating from the door. A few people were gathered outside smoking. Sam pushed passed them and went inside. The Lion also hadn't changed much. Many of the same pictures were hanging on the walls as twenty years ago. Most of them were pictures of musicians from BB King to Jimi Hendrix.
A jazz band was playing on the stage by the rear wall. The bar was to the left and ran the length of the room. There were a few characters who Sam recognized standing at the bar. A couple of them he'd been to school with. He walked to the bar and ordered a beer. The young lady with pink and blue hair put a beer mat down in front of him and poured his drink.
''Sam?'' a woman's voice said.
''Jesus, Elvina,'' Sam said as he looked at the attractive woman standing next to him. She was about five six and had long black hair. ''You look great.''
''You don't look so bad yourself. What brings you home to Flushing Creek?''
''Needed a break.''
''Are you still a football coach?''
''Sort of.''
''It's so nice to see you. Can I get you a drink?''
''No allow me.'' He ordered a beer for Elvina, and they clinked glasses. ''How long is it since we've seen each other?'' he asked.
''Fifteen years. Something like that,''she said.
He'd forgotten quite how attractive she was. She was wearing tight jeans which clung to her shapely figure. ''Wow it's so great to see you. Are you married?''
''No, divorced. I've got a couple of kids. Two lovely girls.''
''What brings you here?''
''I live close by, and when I'm at a loose end, I come for a drink and listen to the music. How about you? You got married didn't you?''
''Yes and divorced like you. But I haven't got any children, unfortunately.''
''You sound sad about it,'' she said pushing her hair from her face.
Sam looked at her. He liked women wearing lips gloss, and she was wearing plenty. In fact, she was very well made up. ''It's something I regret.''
''You talk as if your eighty,'' she said.
''Forty next birthday.''
''It only seems like yesterday when used to hang around together. We even made love once, do you remember?''
Sam cringed. ''I do. And I remember I wasn't very good.''
''You had a premature ejaculation,'' she said without consideration to his feelings.
''Yes. How embarrassing. I was only seventeen, and you were so hot. I remember I couldn't help myself.''
''It didn't matter, though. I got you to satisfy me in another way I remember.'' She sipped her beer and narrowed her gaze.
''Yes. You taught me a lot,'' he said.
''How about you come and sit down with me? Let's talk about old times. It's been so long.''
''Okay. Let's do it.''
Three hours and several beers later Elvina was leaning on her elbow and staring deep into Sam's eyes. ''Do you want to recreate a bit of the old times. With me, tonight?'' she asked. ''Come back to my house with me.''
''Do you think I'd last any longer than last time?''
''I'm sure you would. A hell of a lot longer.''
Sam leaned across to her and whispered in her ear. ''Then let's go.'' As he stood up, he felt his phone vibrate. It was Lizzie again. He turned it off before putting it into his pocket.
When they got outside the air was cool and fresh. ''I'm a bit drunk,'' she said.
''Me too, but what the hell does it matter. Let's go and have some fun.''
&nbs
p; He pulled her to him and kissed her. She put her tongue in his mouth and matched the movement of his lips. ''You haven't forgotten how to do that,'' she said. ''You always were a good kisser.''
She put her arm in his as they walked towards her house. When they arrived at the front gate, they kissed again. Sam put his hands on her buttocks and pulled her to him.
''Be patient. Very soon,'' she said as she felt his erection pawing at the inside of his pants.
He followed her up to her bedroom and sat on the bed as she undressed. When she was naked, she stood in front oh him and looked at his face.
''You don't want to do this, do you?'' she said.
''I'm sorry. I would love to, but it's.......''
''Go,'' she said as she reached for a gown.
''We had a lovely evening. Go. Maybe we'll meet again in another fifteen years.''
''Thanks, Elvina. I didn't mean to......'' She put her finger to his lips.
''It's okay, really.''
Outside Sam slumped against an oak tree that hung it's leaves over the pavement. He turned his phone on and waited. Ten text messages, all from Lizzie and three missed calls.
''Lizzie?''
''Sam, thank God. What the fuck are you playing at? I've been worried sick about you. Where are you?''
''In Flushing Creek.''
''Where the hell's that?''
''Five hundred miles from you. It's the town I grew up in.''
''Do you want to explain to me what you are doing there and why you sound so drunk?''
''Lizzie, I'm sorry. Can I explain everything tomorrow?''
''No Sam. You've been ignoring me. I want to know why and I want to know why, now.''
''Er.....do you know I was asked to appear before the Ethics Committee?''
''Yes. I heard. That's why I was trying to get in touch with you.''
''Well, things got a bit out of hand, and I told the Dean to fuck off.''
''Yes, I know that as well.''
''How?''
''His secretary called me. They are worried about you, and so am I.''
''They don't give a shit about me. All they want is to see me ruined.''
Lizzie tutted. ''Stop feeling sorry for yourself and be a man. What's the matter with you? They hold you in very high regard.''
''Then why did they suspend me?''
