by Deena Bright
“Antigone (an tee gon ee).” I corrected him at the exact time he corrected himself, laughing at me. I splashed him, and he grabbed my hands, pulling me closer, kissing me softly on the lips.
“You’re so predictable.” He laughed. “Anyway, we were reading Antigone, and you asked if it was wrong for Antigone to expect her sister to help bury their brother.”
I glared at him, remembering his response, “and you said, yeah it’s wrong, they should just ‘dyke out’ and make us horny bastards happy.” I smacked him, remembering the incident and my anger. “Oh, I was pissed. That was the first detention I’d ever given.”
“You weren’t pissed.” He said, looking at me with those eyes.
“Yes, I was. I so was!” I exclaimed emphatically.
“Nope, you were biting your lip, trying not to laugh.” He said, laughing and shaking his head, as if he knew everything. “You did it all year, when someone said something funny, but not ‘school appropriate.” He turned to look at me. “It was the second time I knew I wanted you. You became real then, not some stuck up, too good for us teacher.” He was holding my hand, rubbing my palms, massaging my fingers.
“But I gave you a detention.” I argued, not wanting him to realize he was right.
“Not because you wanted to, because you had to.” He countered, countered correctly.
He had me thinking. Maybe my students weren’t as dumb and as “out of touch” with reality as I’d thought. They always seemed so…so… removed from real human interaction and connection. Briggs was truly in tuned, and he was definitely learning expertise in human connection.
I wrapped my legs further around his waist, pulling my body up on his lap. I could feel his hardness again. There’s definitely something to be said about the younger man’s libido. Wow. I kissed him on the nose and kissed his upper lip. He held me to him, pulling my head to his lips, kissing me deeper, passionately. His hands ran down my back, tickling my spine, sending shivers throughout my body.
“And that Briggs, is enough for today’s lessons.” I stood up, dripping water and what was left of the bubbles all over his body. He groaned, putting his head back against the tub. “We’ll pick up a deeper, more rigorous lesson next time.” I extended my hand, offering to help him up. He took my hand; I yanked him up with both hands.
I had some work to finish. I convinced Briggs to leave, so I could get started on my day. He wasn’t pleased; I told him that resistance and patience was all a part of the curriculum. He left petulantly, promising he’d see me sooner, rather than later. I hoped. But first, I had to get started on some work.
Chapter Nine
By work, I really meant, lying by my brother’s pool, figuring out what I was going to do with my life, with my marriage, with my soon-to-be 24 year-old boy toy athlete. I couldn’t spend all morning, afternoon, and night fooling around with Briggs, teaching him to please me in every way I could think of. Could I? Damn, I wanted to, even sort of felt like I deserved to. But, I was an adult with responsibilities and promises to keep. I promised Jocelyn that I ‘d email her a list of what I wanted from my house, so Rick and Dave could pick it all up this week. I didn’t even want to think about it. Part of me, just wanted to leave it all there and let Marcus deal with it. But, I had personal things there, mementoes of my past: photo albums, keepsakes, letters, journals. I needed those things; they were important to me. I wasn’t about to let Marcus destroy more things that were important to me.
In early May, I promised myself that I would spend five hours a week this summer, at least, trying to write a musical. For years, I’d been wanting to write a modern musical. This was supposed to be the summer that I started. Just because I saw my husband handcuffed to my bed by another woman didn’t mean that I should renege on my promise to myself, giving up on myself. I wanted to outline the plot today, inserting the songs where I thought they’d work the best. I’d spend the summer writing the dialogue and action. I went to work, write, and relax out by the pool.
******
“Miss Garrity?” I heard a voice calling my name, realizing that I must have dozed off in the sun. Waking up, I realized that I wasn’t even in the sun anymore, but shaded by the trees overlooking the side of the pool. How long had I slept? I turned to the voice. “Miss Garrity, I’m going to start using the edger and weed wacker; I didn’t want to startle you.” Leo seemed apologetic for waking me.
Oh my God, Leo was already here to work on the lawn. He was scheduled to come after work. Seriously, how long had I been asleep? “Hey Leo, uh what time is it?” I sat up, confused, rubbing my eyes to adjust to the light. I had to look like such a ridiculous loser.
“It’s almost 6:15.” He said, looking at his phone.
“6:15? Crap. I was supposed to get so much done today.” I stood up, gathering my towel to go inside.
“It’s summer vacation; you deserve to relax. Teaching’s a tough job, and a suckie one.” He was smiling at me; I’d never noticed his dimples before. Guys, hell, people with dimples were so adorable, so angelic and pure. I wondered if he was pure. Jesus Christ Janelle, get a hold of yourself.
“Ya know what?” I said, feeling better. “I did write a few pages, and I made a list, that’s enough for today,” I said, laughing, as I decided to swim for a bit. It was pretty hot out. I sat down on the top step of the pool. God, I loved that my brother had a pool. Well, I guess that I had a pool now too. I love water. Pools, oceans, lakes…garden tubs were pretty hot too. Water was so rejuvenating and so sexy too.
“Wrote a few pages? Are you writing a book or something? Do you mind my asking?” He was so careful, careful not to offend me or overstep his boundaries. His formalities and respect were so charming and out of the ordinary.
“Nah, not really.” Admitting to someone that you’re writing book or something like that, brought on all types of expectations and questions from people. I figured that I’d just leave it alone.
“Oh okay, because I always thought that you should.” He said excitedly. Then, realizing how he must’ve sounded, he dropped his head and stammered, “I mean, in class, you would tell these stories about stuff that happened to you in college or your family, and you were a great story-teller, captivating really. I always thought that I’d read a book you wrote.” He seemed shy, almost worried that he he’d said too much. It was kind of cute.
I found myself drawn to him, enjoying his company, his inquisitive and polite nature. I’d never really talked to him when he was my student. A lot of students would hang back to chit chat after class, boys and girls both. They wanted to share stories about their weekends, their boyfriends or girlfriends, their parents, and what they wanted to do after college. I always developed a rapport with them, taking an interest in their lives as people, not just their lives as students. I enjoyed my time with them; they were my students, my kids for a year. Leo never stayed back, never told me about his life. I knew he’d gotten into Miami University in Miami, Ohio. He’d gotten a full-ride academic scholarship. Normally, he would have been in a higher-level English class, but he’d wanted to take some elective or something and ended up in my Regular Ed. English class. He was by far the smartest student I’d ever had. I often wondered if some of my students could even read. Leo could read and enjoyed reading. My other students enjoyed parties, concerts, sex, sports, drugs, alcohol, students like Briggs. Leo wasn’t like the rest of them.
I suddenly felt comfortable telling him. “Well, not a book really. I wanna write a musical. Have you ever seen Mamma Mia or Billy Joel’s, Moving Out?” I asked him.
“Hmmm, I’m not sure how to answer that without looking like a pansy.” He admitted, smiling shyly. “But yeah, I’ve seen both of ‘em, Mamma Mia a few times.” He started humming “Dancing Queen,” as I sat there in disbelief, laughing. He was pretty funny; I’d never known that before. “Mom loves Abba. They’re both great shows though.” He was so honest, very easy to talk to. He sat down on the chair closest to the pool’s steps.
“W
ell, you know how they’re just plays written to fit the songs from those artists?” He nodded, urging me to go on. “Well, I wanna write the play that goes with Madonna’s music. I kinda feel like they already tell a story.” He was staring at me with a strange look on his face. Could it be awe; was he really in awe of my Madonna idea? Hmmm…
“Miss Garrity, that’s a great idea! Madonna, she loves publicity; she’d probably even choreograph it for you—as long as you made it hot and sexy enough.” He blushed when he’d realized what he’d said. “You should do it, for sure.” He got up to leave. “I should get back to work, wouldn’t want to take your brother’s money.” He smiled.
“Leo, wait, what about you? What’s been going on with you?” Why was I holding him up? Usually, when a former student, Briggs excluded, was talking to me, I was ready for them to leave after a few minutes.
He stopped and sat back down. “Nothin’ really. I just finished school, got my CPA license, and now I’m saving up to buy a house outside of town a ways.” He said it so nonchalantly like everyone his age, (23?) was doing exactly that. “Just got a new car and still looking for somewhere around here to work out and keep rowing. That’s it.”
“That’s it? That’s pretty impressive Leo. Be proud of yourself.” I exclaimed, not all that shocked that he’d achieved so much already. “And I can’t offer you up a river to row in, but Jasper wouldn’t care if you used his pool for laps or his workout room to lift and run. He is such an exercise freak; he’d be happy that someone other than him used it.” Leo smiled and thanked me. He stood up, getting ready to leave.
I was trying to find something to say to keep talking with him. But why? He had work to do, why suddenly was I interested in hanging out with him? I knew why. I liked that when I talked to him, he listened. He focused on me, not on his Blackberry, not on anything around me, just on me. I never got that with Marcus; seemed like he was always looking for something better. Not seemed, was looking for something better. Leo didn’t look at me like he wanted to rip my clothes off either, which was also nice. Sort of.
He walked away; he was really good-looking. I got into the water; it was slightly chilly, but not too cold. I decided to swim some laps and release some energy. I started getting in a zone, ignoring the environment around me, just swimming. I wasn’t sure how long or far I had swum, when I heard muffled noises. I stopped swimming and stood in the water.
“Give me my fucking credit card, you bitch!” I looked behind me; Marcus and Lauren were standing at the pool’s edge. I cannot believe he came here and came here with HER. Dickhead.
I put my hair back in the water, getting it slicked back and off my face, like I knew he liked. I opened the top of my bikini and looked inside, “Hmm, I don’t have it on me. Actually, last time I saw it, Char was using it.” Smirking, I started walking towards the steps.
“Jesus Christ Janelle, I mean it. If you don’t give me that fucking card, I’m gonna go get it myself.” He was yelling, threatening me.
“Marcus, you asshole, call and cancel it like any other normal person would.” How dare he come here, bring her with him, and yell at me? Who did he think he was?
“Nellie, I’m so so so so very sorry about all of this, I told Markie that I’d just cancel it for him.” She whined, as she stroked my husband’s chest and began patting him on the arm. “But you know how he gets when he’s upset. Can you just get the card for us?” She pouted. “We have reservations in an hour.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I screamed, raging out of the pool. “Get her outta here Marcus, get her the fuck out of here!” Markie? Nellie? “Lauren, get your skanky ass off my property now.” I was shaking, raging like I never had before. “Leave goddamn it.”
“Fucking shut your mouth Janelle, don’t talk to Lauren that way.” He came closer to me, gritting his teeth. “She’s more of a woman than you’ll ever be. Apologize! Now!” Marcus wanted me to apologize to her? Who the hell was he kidding?
“Me? Apologize? To her? Have you lost your fucking mind?” I was going to lose it. I needed Char; she’d handle this.
“Markie, let’s just go. Janelle, all I ever wanted was to be your friend.” Lauren whined.
“All you ever wanted was to fuck my husband, you skank-ass whore.” I was screeching at the top of my lungs.
Marcus grabbed me, and said, “Shut your damn mouth and get my credit card, you bitch.” At that moment, I was torn from Marcus’ grip, and I heard a crack. Marcus was flat on the ground with a bloody, probably busted jaw, whimpering like an infant.
Leo looked at me and asked if I was okay. I nodded, not knowing if that was the truth or not. Leo yanked Marcus up off the ground, turned him to face me, held him in a choke-hold and said, “I think you owe the lady an apology, you son of a bitch.” Marcus spat at me. Leo tightened the grip, straining Marcus’ head and neck, cutting off his airwaves. “Now asshole.”
“Sorry.” Marcus gasped.
Leo said, “I’m gonna let you go, but you’re gonna get your ass in your car and leave. Take her with you. Don’t come back, don’t bring her back. Got it?” He was still restraining Marcus. “I said, Got it?” He was so strong, so forceful. Holy Hell, Leo Cling was a man, a real man.
Marcus nodded the best he could. Leo looked at Lauren, “And for God’s sake, get some self-respect. What’s wrong with you?” He released Marcus. Lauren leaped to Marcus’ side, supporting him, being his crutch as they started toward the gate. I didn’t see it, couldn’t see what he saw in her. Granted, she was beautiful with her long, naturally curly blond hair. Her hazel-green eyes were large, perfect for mascara and shadows. Yeah, she had a body that wouldn’t quit; I’d never seen real boobs that large on such a small frame before. Rumor had it that she’d even had a breast reduction, gone down two sizes, yet she still had enormous breasts. Amazing. So, fine, yeah, I guess I could see what he saw in her, but she was an idiot. So dumb. The dumbest. She slept with married men, how could that be a turn on for anyone? Obviously, commitment and fidelity meant nothing to either of them. I continued staring at them, watching them.
Seconds before Marcus got into the car, he turned, glared at me with all the hatred and venom in the world and said, “This ain’t over, bitch. I’ll ruin you.” Then, Lauren and Marcus got into his car, and sped away, out of my life, for good.
As they drove off, Leo came over to me, put an arm around me, “Miss Garrity, are you okay; can I do anything for you?” At that, I started crying, sobbing, my entire body was shaking with sadness, with fear, and with uncertainty. I couldn’t control the flooding of tears. I started falling to the ground; Leo caught me. He lifted me up, like I was weightless and took me into the pool house. Putting me down on the couch, he walked to the kitchen, opened the fridge, and got me a bottle of water.
I took the water, smiled, and said, “Thanks, but I’m gonna need something a little stronger than that.” I tried to laugh it off, but it turned into a whimper. He went to the kitchen, found one of the bottles of wine that Jocelyn picked up for me, and opened it. He poured me a glass of red wine, and handed me the glass. He sat down on the opposite chair, just looking at me. I took a long drink of wine, wanting to hide in it. Everyone was going to know about the shambles my marriage was in. Everyone.
“Wanna talk?” Leo looked so innocent sitting there, patient and calm. Minutes ago he’d had my husband in a choke-hold. What had my life become?
“Nothin’ to talk about really. Age-old story,” I said, leaning back on the couch, sipping my wine. “Girl marries guy. Guy sleeps with secretary. Girl leaves guy. Secretary gets the guy.” I felt so tired, so numb. How did my life change so quickly?
“I’m sorry Miss Garrity,” he started, sitting down next to me. “I know it doesn’t count for much, but I could never imagine wanting anyone else if you were my wife. That man lost his mind.” He said, shaking his head in wonder. “He’s gonna regret this; he had the world, perfection. Now, he’s just settling for trash.” When Leo was complimentary, he a
lways blushed and looked away, as if he’d said too much. He didn’t this time. He was looking at me intently, “I mean it too.”
At that moment, I decided that I’d been born five years too early. Apparently, all the irresistible guys that were truly worth it were born five years after me. “Thanks Leo, I appreciate that. You’re a good guy. Thanks for helping me out there.”
“Nah, don’t worry about. Dicks like that have it coming.” He said, anger flashing on his face. “Guys shouldn’t treat women that way.” He dropped his head, shaking it side to side. “I just don’t get why guys like that seem to get the best women.”
I didn’t think he was talking about me anymore, which was relatively disappointing. I remembered that he’d had a girlfriend in high school. Kelsey? Kelsey somebody.
“Leo, are you still with that Kelsey?” I preferred to talk about him, not about my failed marriage.
“Kelsey Galloway? Nah, age-old story.” He looked sad; his face dropped. “She wasn’t who I thought she was. We broke up my first year of college.” He was wringing his hands, shaking his head. I had to convince him to tell me more; he was holding back. I told him that he could trust me, confide in me. Hell, he just uncovered the most personal aspect of my life.
“I guess I can disclose; you just told me something painful and personal. It’s only fair.” He conceded.
Reluctantly, Leo told me what happened with Kelsey. They’d dated their entire junior and senior years. She was a nice girl, cute in a quirky way, extremely smart. They took things slowly, deciding that they were waiting until marriage (or until at least their engagement) to have sex. They spent the summer before college together every day. Leo wanted to let go of their vow; he wanted her. It was getting harder every day to not have sex with her. He’d felt like she’d been teasing him all summer.
Once college started, he was at Miami, she at Cincinnati. He thought it was perfect that their colleges were so close together. They spent many weekends together, the temptation getting harder and harder. Finally, one day, nearly the end of their freshman year of college, she’d called him and told him that the next weekend she wanted him, really wanted him. He blushed telling me this part of the story. His honesty was so raw.
