Learning Lessons

by KT Morrison

  “How strong are you?”

  “Oh, pretty strong I guess.”

  “Could you lift up Mom?”

  “I’m not heavy, Petey,” Jess said, insulted.

  “No, you’re not,” Tyler said, “You’re light as—”

  “Okay, boys, beat it for a minute. Go grab us some drinks,” Pete said.

  “Get your muscles ready. We’re gonna move some boxes, we’ll need your help. Turn you into He-men in no time,” Tyler called after them.

  “Cool!” Andy yelled, skipping behind his brother to go get some pops for everyone.

  The three of them looked at one another standing in the driveway. Pete said, “We’re going to need some ground rules.”

  “Of course, Pete,” Jess said.

  “Seriously, these are my kids, so, I mean, they are never, ever, ever to be compromised.”

  “Yeah, Pete we know,” Tyler said.

  Jess said, “Pete, we’re not idiots. And they’re my kids.”

  “Don’t forget, I’m a teacher,” Tyler said.

  Pete narrowed his eyes. Were a teacher, Tyler.

  “I know how to act around kids.”

  Did these two forget why they were here? How this came to pass? They fucked up and got caught. This was exactly what he was trying to explain to them.

  “You’re here as a favour to you. To help you out. Not to...” he looked around, whispered, “fuck...my wife every day.”

  Tyler and Jess nodded, looking down at the asphalt.

  “Right, we’re all on the same page? Just because we’re under one roof now doesn’t mean this is one big sex party for you two,” Pete said

  “When we do it, it’ll be just like it was before. Kids at your sister’s. All of us okay with it,” Jess said.

  Pete chewed on a piece of skin stuck to his lower lip. He nodded. Still couldn’t believe this was happening.

  12

  Big Breakfast

  Sunday, October 23rd

  “You don’t seem very interested. Am I boring you?”

  Jess said, “Huh?” waking out of a reverie and trying to act like she’d heard everything Pete said.

  Jess was sitting on the concrete stoop outside the back door of the kitchen looking out into the yard. Pete was standing below her, his back to her, hands on his hips, holding a plastic bag while he waited for Sargent to find a decent place to poop. A sharp line of shade was drawn across the lawn from the early morning light, and Pete Jr and Andy were horsing around on the lawn wearing big warm sweaters and jackets, rolling around in the wet frosted grass despite the October cold. Cold but still bright and sunny, no clouds up in the deep blue sky. How long could this nice weather last?

  “Never mind. I was talking about Karla.”

  She couldn’t remember who Karla was. She said, “Oh.”

  She’d had trouble sleeping last night. The thought of Tyler in the house disturbed her now that he was here. Her attraction to him was, on the surface, so blatantly sexual. Having him in her intimate family space felt like a violation, even to her. She slept eventually, then, when she woke, the very first thought she had was of Tyler. How close he was. Just past two doors and she could climb into bed with him. Slip under the sheets and feel his strong arms hold her to him. She didn’t think of making love, just wondered what it would be like to wake up with him. She was getting a hint of what it would be like to live with Tyler. To be his mate. He was so close and she was so hungry.

  “I’m sorry, Pete.”

  Pete looked over his shoulder at her while Sargent finally found a spot good enough to squat over, his red legs and tail trembling. He smirked at her, said, “A lot on your mind?”

  “Yeah, I guess so,” she said and she sipped her coffee. It had got cold.

  “I’ll get breakfast started,” she told him, and got herself up and went back in the house.

  Tyler had been on his best behaviour. Charming her impressionable boys with his good looks and his charm. Even Pete didn’t say a thing to her when they were in bed last night. Tyler was playing his part very well. He wasn’t swearing, or being brash and rude like he could be. He was respectful. She hoped he could keep that up.

  Jess brought out the bacon and eggs and put them on the counter, wondered if Tyler had strange dietary needs. Body like his, did he eat bacon? Pete would shit his pants if she had to start doing special shopping just for him. She’d just make him the same as everyone else for now.

  It was Sunday, a family day, so it wouldn’t be unusual if she were to make a nice big meal for everyone, right? But would that come off as too celebratory, like she was making a big deal about her friend staying over? Would Pete think she was going too far? Would Tyler think she was trying too hard—could she turn him off? Gosh, was all this worry necessary?

  It could be. This was the most outlandish experience in her whole life. No experience in her life had taught her how to behave in a situation like this. She wanted to be in her warm terry robe and her flannel PJs, but not with a guest in the house. A guest who had made love to her a few times and with whom she wanted to go again and again. So when she woke up she’d had to get showered, cleaned, even touched her face with a bit of makeup. This was going to be an awkward few weeks. Her stomach felt so strange.

  Helping Tyler like this was a necessity. It was a kindness, sure, but she had to help him. If she’d never stopped that day at the school, gone in and sat with him in the teacher’s lounge... Hadn’t talked about the bulge in his shorts, hadn’t peeked inside when he showed her... There were a lot of bad things she’d done that day. Thirty-five-year-old woman should know better. She’d brought this on the kid. Had he a better work history, a better relationship with his landlord, better credit—he could have survived their indiscretion, that was on him. She was still right to help him. And while she had told herself and told Pete she would keep her hands off him, now that he was here, she couldn't help but think how close he was, how easy it would be to lock herself in the furnace room with him and peel his tight clothes off that big muscular body.

  Pete was out there with the boys still, he had them working on something. He’d brought out a shovel and Andy had his plastic beach shovel ready to help old dad with whatever he was doing. She checked her reflection in the mirror in the hall, she liked what she saw. Contacts in, simple makeup, fresh face for so early in the morning, her hair was put together without looking like she’d spent time on it. She went up the stairs.

  The hall at the top wasn’t long, it was more rectangular, with four thin hollow doors separating it from the rooms. There was the master bedroom, the boys room, and then a washroom, and the guest room. Tyler was behind that door. The boys’ new big brother who was sharing that tiny bathroom with them now. Their house wasn’t big and Tyler filled it up that was for sure. The guest room he was in was very small, maybe just twelve by ten. He had a bed, a dresser, and a closet. His door was open a crack and she could see him awake and moving around in there. He was dressed, which was a relief, although she would love to see him naked—just not right now with Pete and the boys so close, ready to run up the stairs and catch her.

  He had an old, beat-up suitcase open, and he was putting things away in the dresser, his big, wide, muscular back turned to her. She watched him a moment—felt so creepy doing it. Every second she enjoyed watching his body move in his tight jeans and t-shirt was also a dread-filled second where she thought he might turn and catch her. But she kept watching from the hall, ready to walk in and start talking if he turned and saw her standing in the shadows.

  She knocked very lightly with a knuckle, stood in the gap of the door and pushed it wider.

  “Hey,” he said when he turned.

  “I’m making breakfast. I want you to come down and join us. Is that okay?”

  “Yeah, of course it is.”

  “I just don’t know how we’re going to go about this is all,” she laughed.

  He waved her in, gave her a warm smile. It felt so wrong to go into that space
with him. She stepped through the threshold and closed the door quietly behind her. She wasn’t here for sex, but man, she’d like to. If Pete could keep those boys busy... She had an image of herself bent over the edge of the bed, Tyler pounding her from behind, one of his white sport socks stuffed in her mouth so her family couldn’t hear her ecstasy.

  Tyler sat on the edge of the twin size bed and she sat next to him. “Thanks for letting me stay here. It means a lot,” he said.

  “Please, Tyler, it’s fine. Stay as long as you want.”

  “I’ll get myself right soon. I’ll stay out of your guy’s way. But if you want me to sit with you and eat, I’d be honoured.”

  “Yeah, we do, of course we do. You’re not going to be holed up in here while we’re home. I want you around.”

  “And Pete?”

  “I’ll take care of Pete. Really, he’ll be okay.”

  He hunched forward, his hands clasped between his thighs. He said, “I hope you don’t blame yourself for getting me fired.”

  She bristled. She bit her lips and couldn’t help wincing at him, said, “Do you blame me?”

  “No,” he said, looking down at the carpet, “We both shoulda known better, I guess.” He smiled at her. “You just can’t keep your hands off me, can you?”

  He gave her a mischievous smile, but she could see in his eyes he didn’t have the conviction. He wasn’t in the mood right now, he was just going through the motions. She wondered what went through his head. How did he see this arrangement? She hoped he didn’t think that he had to bang old Mrs. Mapplethorpe once a week to pay for his room and board. She hoped he didn’t see her that way.

  She pressed her open palm against his cheek and he put his hand over hers. She watched his face, struggled with what to say.

  The sliding glass door rumbled underneath them, Pete and the boys coming back in the house. She pat his cheek and he let her hand go.

  They sat a moment longer on the edge of the bed, both looking at the floor. It was odd but it did feel strangely comfortable to sit with him and be quiet.

  “You’ll come down for breakfast?” she said.

  “Yeah, I will,” he said, his hand went across her back, went in circles then up to her neck and he held her. It gave her a chill that made her nipples harden. “Thank you,” he said.

  “Uh-okay,” she said and she got up. She opened the door and slipped out, keeping her back to him, afraid he might see her nipples pressing out the fabric of her shirt.

  Pete was on the stairs. One leg up, one leg still in the hall, leaning on the handrail like he’d been listening but afraid to come up. His face was raised, watching her come out of Tyler’s room. She felt a little charge bolt through her from his horrified expression, and as she passed him on the stairs, she let him see her nipples, couldn’t help herself—she wiped at the corners of her mouth. She could feel his anguish, feel his suffering, wondering if his wife had just gone down on her lover in their own home while he was with the boys.

  She went into the kitchen and started breakfast, riding a salacious thrill that raced through her whole body.

  13

  Twister

  Monday, October 24th

  Stir-fry tonight. Carrots, onions, peppers, broccoli, and cauliflower chopped, chicken browned, sprouts in the pan. Jess was over the stove, the steam feeling good on her face but making her hair a little heavy. She tied it back in place with an elastic hairband while dinner cooked.

  Maybe she’d really gotten away with it. Another day at school today, the place rippling with gossip about the dirty incident someone witnessed over at the high school. That stud PE teacher and some blonde-haired girl. Some of them saying quietly, Wish it was me, giggling behind their hand. Not one funny look at Jess. Not one weird exchange that made her think someone out there in this ugly world was spreading the rumour that it was Jess Mapplethorpe. No one shunned her, everything seemed like business as usual today. The other lady teachers waving her over to their little groups so they could all discuss their perverted theories. What were they caught doing? Who do you think it was?

  No one thought it was her? She maybe should be a little insulted she thought, after a while. Why couldn’t it be Jess?

  The rice was done, sat now for a few minutes. She walked down the hall opened the basement door and yelled down to Pete that dinner was ready.

  “Up in a minute,” he yelled up from his dark little refuge. He was spending a lot of his time with those trains these last few days. Whatever it took him to get through this was fine with her. He was a saint for letting Tyler move in. They were doing the right thing. Sometimes, though, passing Tyler in their narrow hall, feeling how he filled up her living space, brushing against his body in the kitchen—after all the dirty, dirty things they’d done together she wondered if she was kidding herself.

  This had been her fault. Not entirely of course, but more her than Tyler. She knew better than to do that at his work. Knew better to even visit him given the filthy things they’d done together.

  She was thirty-five. Ten years older than him—she was mature. She was everyone’s sweet Jess. How was it possible that she didn’t stop, tell him they needed to do this somewhere private? Even when she was a young girl she was never so crazy, so promiscuous. What was happening to her?

  When she opened the door from the mudroom that led to the garage she saw Tyler with her boys, showing them how to do chin-ups. The three boys in a line, their backs to her. Tyler was hanging from the rafter, her boys gripping a bar across Tyler’s squat rack.

  Tyler had his shirt off and she watched those big round muscles bunched up across his back and over his shoulders bulge and dance. She stood on the top step of their garage watching the three of them. Her boys were doing well, pulling their light bodies up and watching Tyler, trying to please him, get his attention.

  “That’s it, dude. Do two more,” Tyler said.

  Petey kept at it and so did Andy, his little thin arms shaking.

  “You can do it, Andy,” Jess said and she stepped onto the wooden steps and sat down at the top.

  Petey said, “Did you see me, Mom?”

  “Yes, I did, Petey. You were doing great.”

  The single garage door was open to the early evening blue light, getting dark on her little cul-de-sac. What must the neighbours think, looking into their lit up garage, seeing their new tenant with her children like this? This muscular beast living with this young family. Could they ever suspect?

  Andy shook his way through the last one he could possibly do and jumped down like he had just won a trophy.

  “Raaah,” he yelled and he flexed for his mommy, a double biceps then down into some Incredible Hulk pose.

  “You’re amazing, Andy,” she said and she clapped for him.

  Tyler jumped down and turned, his muscles rippled and she had to look away.

  “Glad to see you boys are bundled up out here,” she said.

  Tyler had the boys in heavy sweats, towels tucked into the collar like Rocky Balboa. She watched Tyler bend at the waist, pluck his T-shirt off the squat rack between two fingers. Steam was rising up off him.

  “Dinner’s ready, boys,” she said, her eyes on Tyler just behind Pete and Andy. She watched that shirt go over his head, his deep six pack sucked in as he shrugged himself into it, pulled it down that lean hard body. His arms stretched out the sleeves of his tight t-shirt. They were so thick she couldn’t come close to putting her hands around them. He was so strong, so hard, his arms felt like steel when she ran her hands over them. She would watch her pale thin hand, so light against the dark inked skin of them, her hands would claw at the dragons while he plunged in and out of her.

  “What’s for dinner, Mom?”

  “Stir fry, Petey,” she said. She pulled the front of his sweatshirt, snagged him into a hug, squeezed him tight.

  “Agh, Mom,” he yelled, pulling his head away from her in case she might try and kiss him too.

  Andy said, “Are you crying, Mo
m?”

  She touched her cheek, felt it wet. Her eyes felt swollen and puffy.

  “No, Andy, it’s just the onions,” she said.

  “I hate onions,” Petey said, still held close to her.

  “I know, kiddo.” She kissed him, said, “I made some without onions for you and Andy.”

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  She let Petey go, picked up her Andy and carried him into the kitchen, Petey and Tyler right on her heels. She put Andy in his chair, the other two finding their seats at the table.

  “Hey, hey,” she said firmly to Sargent who was standing underneath the oven, his black nose checking out the pots on the stove. “Don’t you dare,” she said.

  She got the boys’ plates served—no onions—and did one for Tyler. She put them on the table for them, the boys said, “Thanks, Mom,” Tyler said, “Thanks, Mrs. M.”

  She didn’t like it. How did he mean that? She wasn’t his mother’s age. She was older but she was nowhere even old enough to be his mother. Not sexy, Tyler. Not sexy at all. She didn’t respond to him.

  “Where is Pete?” she said under her breath.

  She went to the basement door and yelled down again.

  Pete yelled back, “Coming.”

  The last time Jess had been persuaded to take Just The Tip she was fifteen. Eddy Maxwell persuaded her to let him put the head of his skinny penis inside her when she fell for him after two weeks vacation with her parents, staying at that rental cottage up in northern Michigan. She fell for that long-haired kid with the Nirvana shirt and that was kind of technically who she lost her virginity to although he hadn’t even touched her hymen. She cried for a day when she got home and she never heard from him again. Tyler would have been Andy-boy’s age that same summer.

  “You okay, Mom?”

  “Huh, yeah, Petey, I’m fine. Just felt a little funny there.”