by Yvonne Tyler
* * * * *
The rest of the night was fairly uneventful. Marcus and I played with Lego for hours, then he took a bath and we both watched a movie and ate popcorn in the den. He was rubbing his eyes halfway through the movie, and I knew that there was no way that he would make it through the whole thing. Sure enough, he nodded off and I watched the rest of the movie by myself before I carefully carried him to his bed. I tucked him and took a few minutes just to look at him. He was always cute, but he was super adorable when he was sleeping – his hair was all messed up, his mouth fell slightly open, and you could really appreciate just how long his eyelashes were when they were brushing up against his cheek.
I pulled his door closed with a sinking feeling in my heart. I was definitely going to miss him.
* * * * *
My cell phone buzzed on the table beside the sofa. It was Mr. Dawson calling to let me know that his meeting was running late. He apologized profusely.
“Really, it's okay, Mr. Dawson. I don't have anywhere else I need to be. Marcus was a joy to be around, and he's already asleep. Don't worry about us.”
“Thanks, Sasha,” he said. “You really are a lifesaver.” My phone beeped, indicating that the call had been ended.
Truthfully, I would rather be here than at home with mom. I'm sure she was already passed out somewhere, but it wasn't unheard of for her to wake up in the middle of the night, still drunk, and start on one of her tirades again. Either that, or she would wake up and stumble to the bathroom.
Here, in Mr. Dawson's house, I didn't have to worry about that. The house was quiet. Marcus was serenely sleeping in his room. Everything was neat and tidy. It was peaceful.
For a moment, I was envious of Marcus. He was growing up in a house where he was loved and taken care of. He never had to worry about whether there was enough food to eat or if his clothes for school would be clean.
I shook my head. I was being ridiculous. Poor Marcus had never known his mother, and that was a tragedy itself. I was glad that Mr. Dawson was a doting father who would always do the best he could for his son.
* * * * *
“Sasha...Sasha...” The voice sounded like it was coming from far away. I felt a gentle pressure on my shoulder.
“Wake up, Sasha.” I opened my eyes and saw Mr. Dawson smiling down at me.
“Oh! I'm so sorry,” I sat up on the sofa and smoothed down my shirt. “I didn't mean to fall asleep...”
“Think nothing of it,” Mr. Dawson said, “it's really late. I'm sorry it took me so long to get home.”
I glanced down at my watch. It was a few minutes after midnight.
“Do you want to just stay here tonight? You could sleep in the guest bedroom.”
“No, I'd better go. My mother is expecting me home tonight.” I dug my mother's keys out of my purse and grabbed my coat from the back of the chair.
“I wanted to talk to you about something, but right now probably isn't the best time. Can I call you tomorrow afternoon?”
“Sure. I'll be around.”
“Okay. Drive safely, Sasha. I'll talk to you tomorrow.” He closed the door softly behind me.
* * * * *
Just as I thought, mom was passed out by the time I got home. I slipped her car keys back into her purse and climbed into bed, exhausted.
I got an early start the next morning. It was Saturday, which meant it was grocery shopping day. I liked to get to the store early before the rush, get what I needed, and get out. Plus, mom would be waking up sometime soon and I wanted to have some breakfast ready for her. She would need something on her stomach.
I was at the stove cooking bacon and eggs when she stumbled into the kitchen clutching her head. She sat down at our tiny kitchen table.
“Here, ma.” I poured her a cup of coffee just the way she liked it – two sugars, splash of milk. I also gave her a glass of water and some pain relievers. We had done this a few times before.
“Thanks, baby,” she said, “I don't know what I'd do without you.”
I was hearing that a lot lately.
I hadn't yet told my mother my plans for college. I knew that I had to tell her soon, but I was dreading it. She was going to flip out and probably send me on one hell of a guilt trip.
“You'd manage just fine without me.” I told her, although I was trying to convince myself of that just as much as her.
“It sure is nice to have you here, though. I appreciate all you do for me.” When mom wasn't drinking, she was as sweet as pie. I knew that today, after the Tylenol kicked in and she was sober, she would clean our little house from top to bottom. She would probably cook a wonderful dinner for us. We would talk and laugh together and things would be awesome. But I also knew that – maybe not tonight, but one night soon – she would drink and the cycle would start all over again.
That wasn't going to keep me from enjoying the day with her, though. It went pretty much how I thought it would – cleaning, cooking, chatting. I completely forgot that Mr. Dawson said that he would call me today. If I had remembered, I would have kept my phone with me.
But I didn't, and when the phone rang, my mother answered it.
“Who is this?” she snapped. “What do you want with my daughter?”
Shit. I had never told Mr. Dawson that my mother tended to be crazy at times. I needed to get that phone away from her as quickly as possible. She was going to misconstrue anything that he said. The less he said to her, the better.
“Please give me my phone, ma.” I held out my hand, pleading with her with my eyes. To my surprise, she actually gave it to me.
“Mr. Dawson? I'm sorry, but now isn't the best time. Can I call you later tonight?” My mother was glaring at me from her spot on the sofa. “Okay. I'll call you back.” I pressed the button to end the call.
“Who the hell was that?”
“That, mother, was Mr. Dawson. You know...one of the men I've been babysitting for the past few years.” I was trying very hard not to lose my patience with her. I didn't want this to start a fight, but by the way she was tapping her foot I could see that's exactly the direction this conversation was heading.
One of the things about my mother was that she was very concerned about my virtue. Maybe it was the result of being a teenage mother herself, but she had always hammered it into my head that sex was something to be avoided. It would ruin me, she said, as well as my good reputation. She said she didn't want me to throw my future away on account of some man who only wanted to get off. I had never even asked to go on a date because I knew that she would respond with hours of lectures on how men just wanted to use me for my body.
I knew her protectiveness came from a place of love, but she had a tendency to overreact about things. Like now.
“He married?”
“No, ma. He was, but his wife died after their son was born.”
“He ever try to touch you?”
“Ma! Relax. He's never done anything even remotely inappropriate.”
“Why's he calling you?”
“I don't know. I didn't really get the chance to talk to him, if I recall correctly.”
“Don't you sass me,” she hissed. Then, just like that, her demeanor changed. She smiled at me. “Would you mind helping me take these curtains down? A washing would do them good.”
* * * * *
I was finally able to call Mr. Dawson back much later that afternoon. Mom had asked me to go back to the store and pick up a few things for the supper she wanted to make.
“Do you have plans for this summer?” Mr. Dawson asked after we had chatted for a couple of minutes.
“Not really. I'm just going to be getting ready to move. Why?”
“Well, I don't have anyone to watch Marcus during the day. The woman who watched him for me the last few summers just had a baby of her own and she wants to stay at home. Marcus has never been to daycare before, and I really don't want to have to put him in one...”
“I'd be happy to watch him for you.” Gettin
g paid for spending more time with Marcus before I left definitely beat having to get a part-time job waiting tables or something.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“Absolutely.”
We decided that I would start the Monday morning following my high school graduation next weekend. I would get to his house by eight o'clock every weekday morning and stay until he got home from work around five-thirty. He was paying me what I considered to be a lot of money – far more than I would have been able to make at any other job in this town. I was thrilled.
The next week was a blur of activity and excitement. There were the last few days of school, graduation rehearsal, and my actual graduation. To my surprise and elation, my mother even let me go to a party afterward. I was ecstatic.
Most of my graduating class was at that party, all crammed into a mid-sized house and overflowing into the back yard. There were no adults to be seen, which meant that the cheap beer was flowing freely. Someone shoved a plastic cup full of it into my hand. I took a few sips, decided I didn't care for it, but kept it just so I would have something to do with my hands. Someone lit a joint and started passing it around. The throng of people combined with the smoke was making me feel anxious, so I went out into the large backyard to get some fresh air. Unfortunately, I missed the bottom step and stumbled – right into Lee.
Lee was one of the most popular guys in my class. He was a football player and had also graduated with honors. More importantly, I had had a crush on him for years.
“Shit! I'm sorry, Lee...” He managed to catch me before I fell all the way.
“It's okay. Sasha, right?”
“Guilty,” I said sheepishly.
“Um...I think you spilled your beer.” The cool liquid had sloshed out of my cup and all down the front of my shirt. Of course I had picked tonight to wear a white shirt. My bra was now clearly visible through the wet fabric.
“Fuck. I don't have a coat with me...”
“Here, you can wear mine for now.” He helped me into his jacket.
“Thanks,” I smiled at him.
We sat on the swing on the back porch and talked for a while about our plans after the summer. He was going to the same college I was going to. It excited me that there would be someone from my hometown who I knew there. We exchanged phone numbers and promised to keep in touch over the summer. Lee was a complete gentleman. So much so, in fact, that he insisted that I keep his jacket for the night and return it to him sometime over the summer.
I didn't know it at the time, but that jacket would change the course of my life.
* * * * *
I folded the jacket and put it into the backseat of mom's car once I was parked in our driveway. I knew that mom would freak if I wore it inside. I was exhausted and was in no mood to play twenty questions with her tonight. I would sneak out in the morning before she was awake and find somewhere to hide it in my room until I could get it back to Lee.
Of course, my mother would pick that morning to wake up early and decide to do the Saturday shopping trip while I slept.
“What the hell is this?” She barged into my room, tightly clutching Lee's jacket and shaking it in front of my face.
I blinked at her stupidly, trying to wake myself up. “What are you talking about?”
“Why was this in the backseat of my car? Were you fucking a boy in the backseat of my car?”
“No! It was nothing like that! He was just letting me borrow it...”
“Then why was this in the pocket?” She flung something shiny at me and it fluttered onto my bed. It was an empty condom wrapper. Fuck.
“I swear, he didn't use that on me...”
“If you're going to whore yourself out,” she interrupted, “you're damn sure not going to do it while you live under this roof. You need to get your shit and get out.”
“Ma, please...” Tears stung my eyes. This could not be happening.
“No. I'm done taking care of you. You're old enough to take care of yourself. I'm going to go see Joe, and you need to be gone by the time I get back.” She slammed my bedroom door, and she was gone.
My mind raced. Where was I supposed to go? I had started looking at apartments in Asheville, but I didn't have anything solid lined up and I was counting on the money I would make from my summer job to pay for a security deposit. Which reminded me – I needed to call Mr. Dawson and let him know that I wouldn't be able to watch Marcus this summer. I knew that he didn't have a lot of time to find someone else to start by Monday.
He answered his phone on the third ring. I apologized and told him that I wouldn't be able to watch his son this summer.
“What happened? Is everything okay?” He sounded genuinely concerned about me.
I really didn't want to tell him all of my personal drama, but it came tumbling from my lips anyway. I felt very foolish after I had told him everything.
“I'm sorry. I didn't meant to tell you all that...”
“Don't be silly. Marcus and I will come and pick you up. You'll stay with us for the summer.”
“I can't do that, Mr. Dawson.”
“Sure you can. Just think of it as being a live-in nanny,” he said. “Besides, there's no way that I'll be able to find someone to watch him on such short notice.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course I'm sure,” he said. “Marcus and I need you, Sasha.” Hearing him say that broke my last bit of resolve, and I agreed. I gave him my mother's address. He told me that he would be there in forty-five minutes. After we hung up, I started tossing as much stuff as I could into my old hand-me-down suitcase.
* * * * *
Marcus was beyond thrilled that I was going to be staying with them. He cheerfully showed me the guest bedroom and told me that he had given me one of his favorite stuffed animals to sleep with. Being around him made this morning's unpleasantness with mom seem like a bad dream.
After Marcus went to bed that night, Mr. Dawson and I sat down at his kitchen table and discussed what my duties would be. I would watch Marcus while he was at work, and I would have every weekend off to do whatever I wanted. He asked if I would mind helping out with some of the cooking and light cleaning. Of course I didn't, given that he was giving me a place to stay and was still going to pay me to watch Marcus. I would have kissed his feet if he had asked me to.
* * * * *
For the first couple weeks of our arrangement we were all just trying to get settled into a routine. Marcus and I filled our days with toys, books, and trips to the playground. I thanked my lucky stars every night when I laid my head down on my pillow and cuddled up to one of Marcus's stuffed animals.
After that, we seemed to be getting pretty comfortable with each other. It was almost like we were a little family. I would cook breakfast for both of them in the mornings, and I usually had dinner almost ready by the time Mr. Dawson got home from work.
“About that, Sasha,” he said one morning after I told him goodbye, “you should stop calling me Mr. Dawson, I think. Just call me Jack.”
“Okay...Jack.” He had been Mr. Dawson for so long that it felt foreign to call him anything other than that.
“See?” He smiled at me. “That's much less formal. I like it.”
* * * * *
Almost half the summer had gone by before the first time I saw Jack naked. I had been downstairs making breakfast when I went back up to my bedroom to get some laundry to wash. He strolled across the hallway from the bathroom and into his bedroom, naked as the day he was born and still dripping from his shower. He hadn't seen me, but I had definitely seen him. He was the first naked man I had ever seen, and I was sure that image would be forever burned into my mind – the way the muscles in his thigh moved whenever he walked; the toned abs; the strong broad shoulders...the huge cock that swayed when he took a step.
I don't think I was able to look him in the eyes for at least two days after that. He had no idea, I'm sure, but I couldn't stop thinking about him. It was at that moment that I re
ally saw him for the first time. Before that he had always been Mr. Dawson, devoted father to Marcus. But now...I saw him for the man that he was. A man that had a lot to offer a woman. A man that I wanted.
I found myself fantasizing about him all the time. I wondered what it would be like to feel his lips on mine, his hands on my body, his cock plunging into me for the first time. I was having one of these fantasies in the shower when I discovered just how good the detachable shower head can be.
As usual, I was awake before Marcus and Jack. I liked to take a shower, get dressed, and be making breakfast by the time they woke up. This morning, I was giving in to my daydreams about Jack. I replayed that moment that I saw him naked, only this time I had made my presence known. I thought about touching his chest, the beads of water under my fingers. I thought about getting down on my knees and taking his cock deep into my mouth. I thought about how good it would feel to have it buried in my pussy...I spread my legs wide and tucked the shower head between them, wriggling my hips until it was angled right at my lower lips. I spread them apart and gasped when the water hit my most sensitive spot. It sent shivers of arousal through my body.
