Teach Me New Tricks

by Ali Parker

  “Ah, come on, one date. If it’s good, I’ll drop out.”

  I shook my head. “Now that seems a little extreme. Derek, you’re an attractive young man and I’m sure you have an entire student body you could pull from. I don’t date students.”

  “Not date, dinner,” he countered. I wasn’t so old that I didn’t speak twenty-something. He was talking sex. He actually thought I was just going to agree to have a one-night stand with him. It was offensive.

  “No thank you. I have to get to my office. Enjoy your break and good luck with your classes next semester.”

  I quickly walked away, not daring to look back. It wasn’t the first time I had been asked out by a student, but it always felt awkward. I was at least a good ten years older than him. At thirty-three, I was one of the youngest professors on campus, but I was certainly not the prettiest or sexiest, at least in my opinion. One of the art teachers looked like a model. She was thin, I was curvy. She had perfect hair that looked like she paid a small fortune for on a regular basis. My long, bone-straight blonde hair was very old-school.

  My look was not one that would typically draw the attention of college jocks. I was sure it was my tits. They all liked my ample breasts. They were one of my best features and I didn’t mind flaunting them just a little. My breasts balanced out my ass, in my opinion. If my ass wasn’t big and round, I would fall flat on my face.

  At least that’s what I told myself when I gave up trying to shape my butt into something that would fit into a size four pair of jeans. It was never going to happen, just like my boobs weren’t ever going to be in a b-cup. I embraced my God-given curves.

  I made it to my office without being asked out by any other students. I closed the door and sat down to work on the other stack of papers that was waiting for me. I liked the classic method of students actually writing down their answers. I knew it was dated and a lot of other professors made fun of me for doing so, but in my mind, pen to paper inspired thought.

  I couldn’t help but smile as I thought about Derek’s impromptu dinner invitation. It was flattering to be asked out, even if it wasn’t something I would ever do. Some days, I felt like I would die a lonely woman. Other days, I welcomed the idea of living out my life alone without having to bend to the whims of a husband. I could do what I wanted, go where I wanted, and just be me.

  I was saving up for retirement. I planned on visiting Greece and spending a lot of time really exploring the ruins. I wanted to channel the gods and goddesses I had devoted a large portion of my life too. They fascinated me. Every one of them was interesting and had a story. I would never get tired of thinking about them.

  I was considering using my degree in mythology to move into the literature field. I wanted to write stories about the gods. I wanted to live in their turbulent world for a while. Anything to escape the mundane world I was bound to in my present life.

  With the bulk of my work done, the grades for the semester entered into the system, I closed up my office for the day—for the week. I had a few precious days off before I had to pick up and start all over again. I liked the mini-mesters. I liked shoving in a lot of information into a short amount of time. It just seemed more efficient and the students seemed to remember more at the end of the class.

  I parked my Toyota Camry in the driveway of my modest two-bedroom house. It was my first real estate purchase. I had bought it as a fixer-upper and had been pouring money into the thing for three years. It was finally almost the way I wanted it. I was proud of what I had accomplished, even if it was a little on the small side.

  I left my briefcase on the kitchen table and went to my room to change into comfy jeans. I tried to look the part of a professor when I was at work and generally wore skirts or dressy suits. I wasn’t even going to get into how unfair it was the men could wear jeans and a t-shirt, throw on a blazer and they were officially business casual. Not fair at all.

  With my clothes changed, I grabbed my purse and keys and headed right back out the door. I drove out of town to my best friend in the world’s old ranch house. She had inherited the property that was well over a hundred years old. She was a Texas woman through and through. She was the kind of woman you would never want to piss off, even if she had the smile of an angel.

  She could hunt, shoot, and clean whatever it was then fry it up in some lard without breaking a sweat. She was absolutely self-sustainable and gorgeous to boot. She also lacked a filter, which probably was to blame for her single status as well. If a man didn’t measure up to her standards, she never hesitated to let them know exactly what it was they were doing wrong.

  I drove down the bumpy dirt driveway with white fencing on either side. She had a couple of horses and the required chickens that seemed to be on every Texas ranch, but she wasn’t really a farmer or a rancher.

  I parked my car, her two golden retrievers getting to their feet from their resting spots on the covered porch and ambling out to meet me. “Hi, Yin and Yang,” I greeted them.

  Kami had rescued them as puppies and her naming skills left a little to be desired. The screen door squeaked open. “Yin. Yang. Get in here,” she ordered the dogs.

  “Damn woman, I can smell the chicken from here,” I told her, inhaling the scent of her famous lemon chicken.

  “You better hurry before these dogs eat it.”

  I walked onto the porch, following her inside and closing the door behind me. The old wood floor and the fire burning in the fireplace created a warm, cozy feeling. Her furniture was old and worn but it was comfortable.

  She already had the table set. “Need help?” I asked, already knowing she would shoo me out of her kitchen if I dared try.

  “Just sit down,” she ordered.

  I did as I was told. She carried a bowl of buttermilk biscuits to the table and took her seat. There were biscuits included with every one of Kami’s meals. I blamed them for the extra weight I carried. They were too good to resist.

  “Thank you for this,” I said, reaching for one of the biscuits and splitting it open.

  “Of course. How was the last day?”

  I laughed. “I got asked out by a student.”

  “What? No way! Was he hot?”

  “He’s a student. It doesn’t matter if he’s hot.”

  “It’s the end of the semester, technically not your student.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Now you sound like him.”

  “Hey, a girl has to have a little fun now and again.”

  “Not with a student.”

  “Former student. You could have given him an A for that D.”

  I groaned. “You are so bad.”

  “Hey, I’m only trying to help you out. You’ve been in a drought longer than California. It’s time to get laid.”

  I scowled at her. “You’re so vulgar.”

  “I’m not vulgar. I’m a woman who knows what she wants and needs, and I know you are not any different.”

  I shook my head, taking a bite of the baked chicken. “I’m not sleeping with one of those horny college boys that is probably carrying around more STDs than a hooker. I’ll pass.”

  “Prude.”

  “I’m not desperate to find a man. I’m doing just fine. You don’t seem to be in a big hurry to settle down either.”

  “Leila, I don’t need to settle down,” she pointed out. “I’ve got my dogs. I’ve got a house and I can take care of myself.”

  “And sex?”

  “Girl, I don’t have to be married to get that.”

  I burst into laughter. “One of these days I might think about looking for a man. That day isn’t today.”

  “I suppose if we hit fifty and neither of us has found a man, we can marry each other,” she suggested.

  “Works for me. Let’s hope that day doesn’t come.”

  “If you don’t start shopping around for Mr. Right, or even almost right, you are going to be in my guest room. We’ll have twenty cats and do puzzles all day.”

  I scoffed. “Speak
for yourself. I’m moving to Greece.”

  “Then I’m coming with you.”

  “You’ll never leave Texas.”

  She sighed. “You’re right.”

  Chapter 3

  Christopher

  I woke up early, excited to do a little unpacking and settle into the new house. I wanted to make it feel like home for Olin. I wanted the transition to be as easy as possible, if that were even a thing. Olin was dead set on making everything as difficult as he could.

  I reminded myself he’d been through a lot and I had to give him some time to accept the new life he’d been forced into. I was going to start that life by making him some bacon and eggs. Everybody loved bacon. Teenage boys especially loved bacon.

  I searched the cupboards, familiarizing myself with where the housekeeper I had hired put the dishes. It was a little strange to feel like a guest in my own house, but I reminded myself it would get better with time. It would be a home.

  I got busy making breakfast, my eyes continuously looking out the wall of windows that faced our massive backyard with the lake in the distance. It was spectacular. If I were the agent selling the home, I would have absolutely highlighted the view. Surprisingly, it had been downplayed.

  I slid the scrambled eggs onto two plates and carefully divided the bacon before taking a few pieces from my plate and putting them on Olin’s. I wasn’t a young kid anymore. I had to watch my cholesterol. I was healthy now, but if I ate bacon like I wanted to, I’d be keeling over any day.

  I knew Olin was up. I had heard him come downstairs. He hadn’t come into the kitchen, but I knew the smell of the bacon would bring him in eventually. I heard shuffling feet a moment later and knew my plan had been successful. “Breakfast is ready.”

  He took the plate and carried it to the table in the breakfast nook bathed in sunlight. I sat down across from him. “How’d you sleep?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “Fine.”

  “I was thinking we could unload some of the boxes today.”

  “I guess.”

  “Crazy how warm it is here, huh?”

  He looked outside. “I suppose.”

  “It’s supposed to be in the high fifties today. That’s t-shirt weather back home.”

  He nodded, grunted, and ate a piece of bacon. “I’m going to need new shoes.”

  “We can go to the mall later.”

  “I can go by myself. I don’t need you to take me.”

  I nodded. “Maybe we can drive around town.”

  “Or maybe you can just buy me that car you promised me.”

  I dropped my fork. “Look, I know this is difficult, but I promised you a car when you could prove you were responsible enough to handle one. Your behavior back in Minnesota did not prove that. This is your chance to show me you can handle a car.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

  I took another bite and decided to change gears, steer the conversation back to neutral ground. “So, I was thinking about picking up a hobby or something. I’m already feeling a little stir-crazy. I’ve never not worked in my life.”

  He gave me a look. “Fishing?”

  I smiled. “Actually, I was thinking about taking some classes.”

  “Like college?”

  I nodded. “Yes, like college.”

  “To be what? Aren’t you a little old to go to college now?”

  “You’re never too old to learn. I have time on my hands. That is something new for me. I’d like to do something that fulfills me.”

  “Do whatever,” he said getting up from the table and taking his plate with him.

  I watched him walk away. A few seconds later I heard his bedroom door slam. I sighed, disappointed that I wasn’t making much headway with the kid, but knowing it was going to take time. I just hoped it didn’t take too long. He was certainly trying my patience.

  I tossed the remains of my breakfast into the trash and put the dishes in the dishwasher. I couldn’t resist the allure of the backyard and headed out, following the path past the row of tall privacy hedges that separated our yard from the neighbor’s and made my way down to the dock.

  It was a little chilly, but it felt good. I sat down on one of the benches and stared out at the lake with the water smooth as glass. I mulled over the college thing. What did I want to study? I had never really had dreams of necessarily being anything, but I did want to learn more. I liked reading nonfiction about almost anything.

  With my mind made up, I headed back to the house. I was going to go to the university to talk with an advisor and see what my options were. I had done a little research last night and I knew they were just wrapping up their first semester. It was perfect timing to enroll.

  I went up to Olin’s room and knocked on the door. “What?” he called out.

  I opened the door, popping my head inside. “I’m going over to the university. Do you want to come along?”

  “No.”

  “It’ll give you a chance to check out the town,” I offered.

  “I don’t want to go. I’m fine here.”

  I nodded, knowing there was no point in pushing the matter. “All right, put those dishes in the dishwasher please.”

  I closed the door and headed downstairs. It was a fine line between advising him as a parent and pushing him to the point he really hated me and stormed out. Carlie had been an expert at keeping him in line while remaining on good terms with him. I was still searching for that balance.

  I drove to the college campus and quickly found the office. I was directed down a hall and asked to wait. Being on campus took me back to my younger years when I had attended the University of Minnesota. My degree in business had paid off. Now it was time to pursue something just for the sake of having fun. I didn’t need any more money.

  “Mr. Evans?” a middle-aged man called my name.

  “That’s me,” I said, getting to my feet and following him into a tiny office.

  “Hi, I’m Gerald Enders, one of the advisors here. I understand you were interested in taking some classes?”

  I nodded. “I am. I’m just not entirely sure what.”

  “I see. You have a Bachelor’s in business, are you thinking about pursuing a masters?”

  “No, definitely not. I’ve mastered the business world.”

  He smiled, obviously not believing me. “Do you want to try another major?”

  “Yes, possibly. I’m not sure I’m interested in another four-year degree, but I do want to try my hand at something new.”

  “Are you interested in taking classes to pursue a specific career or more of the hobby variety? If it’s the latter, then I must tell you a community college would be a better choice.”

  I shook my head. “No, I’m not interested in taking a class here or there. I’m prepared to pay tuition. I’m interested in you helping me figure out what kind of degree I should pursue based on my interests. Don’t you have a test or something like that?”

  He smiled. “I do, but I think you’re probably old enough to have a good idea about what it is you do and don’t like, Mr. Evans.”

  I winked. “Please, call me Christopher. I do have a good idea about what I don’t want. I don’t want science or math anything. Been there, done that and I don’t want to do it again. I have no interest in computers or anything related to business.”

  “Psychology?”

  I wrinkled my nose. “Maybe something like religious studies. I’ve always been intrigued by human nature.”

  “I have just the thing,” he said excitedly.

  “Really?”

  “Yes, I can sign you up for a few classes, but there is one I think you will definitely want to take. It’s a Greek Mythology course. It’s a mini-mester.”

  “It’s a what?”

  “A mini-mester. It’s about three weeks. Because it’s done during the winter break, it’s a quick way to pick up some credits. Some of our students who would be short a few credits for graduation in the spring take classes like this.�
��

  “I see. Greek Mythology? Like Hades and Aphrodite?”

  He chuckled. “I believe so, but I will admit I know very little about the subject. However, Professor Leila Bell knows everything there is to know about the subject. Students who have taken the class have been very pleased. She can take a subject that some find boring and mundane and make it great, according to the reviews I’ve read. She’s an excellent teacher. If you take her class and find it dull, then I don’t think religious studies is the direction you really want to go in.”

  “Hmm, I don’t think I’ve ever really studied the subject. Maybe back in high school, but I remember very little.”

  “Look, Mr. Evans, Christopher, you look like a man who has been successful in life. Are you sure you really want to go back and start over again?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know for sure, but one never knows until he tries, right?”

  “I’m not trying to discourage you from going back to school, but for us older folks, the commitment is tough. We get used to our routines and the thought of hanging out with kids half our age and doing homework, well, it’s daunting. I can honestly say I don’t think I would do it. When I retire, I’m done. I’ll be on the lake, fishing. The last thing I want to think about is turning in reports and listening to lectures.”

  I laughed. “I hear you, I really do, but my life has been thrown off my original course. I need something to keep me busy and I can only fish and golf so much. I need to feed my brain.”

  “I get it,” he nodded. “Let’s get you signed up then.”

  “The Greek class, right?”

  “Yes, we’ll get you going with that and then if you think you’re serious, we’ll see what classes have room left in them for the next semester. I have to warn you, they do fill up fast.”

  “That works for me. I would only be interested in part-time enrollment anyway. I do want to enjoy my retirement somewhat.”