The Sandbar saga : Age Gap Romance

by Debra Kayn

  "I'll be there." He cleared his throat. "I have something important to tell you."

  "You're not going to stop coming, are you?" She stilled, holding her breath.

  "Of course not. You'll have to wait until tomorrow to find out."

  "Will I like it?"

  "What I have to share with you?" He hummed. "I believe so."

  Warmth filled her. "I can't wait to see you."

  The bell out in the hallway rang. She groaned. "I have to go. It's dinner time."

  "Okay. I'll see you tomorrow on your birthday."

  "I'm glad you're still coming, and thank you for everything. Bye." She waited until he said goodbye and then found the button to disconnect the call.

  Straightening everything on her bed, she slid her phone in the pocket of her buttoned sweater and left the room. Entering the cafeteria, she remembered the bra she was wearing. She tossed her hair behind her back and straightened her shoulders.

  She liked turning thirteen.

  Chapter 10

  The teenager near the statue in the park put his hands on his girlfriend's butt and kissed her. Katie turned her head slightly, so Dr. C couldn't tell she was watching them. Every once in a while, she could see their tongues in each other's mouths.

  She'd never seen someone kiss that way in public. The older girls at school claimed they kissed their boyfriends with their tongue and liked it, and she thought they were lying. The boys from Jesuit—the all-boy school across town—were shy when they visited the school for dances and sometimes for the girls' basketball games.

  At least none of them ever talked to her.

  The teenage boy half turned, moving his hand between his body and his girlfriend's stomach. Katie's head pounded from having her eyeballs straining to see without anyone noticing she was looking. He was touching his girlfriend's boob!

  She shifted on the bench. It felt like she had to pee, but she'd gone to the bathroom before Dr. C picked her up for their Tuesday meeting.

  Dr. C tapped her arm. "Are you going to answer my question?"

  She jolted. "Uh..."

  "Why are you so distracted today?"

  Her heart raced, and she stared at the couple grinding against each other. "I'm not."

  "Then, how are you doing in math class?"

  "Fine." She worked her lips together and glanced at him. "I passed my test."

  "Excellent." He paused. "Do you want to walk while we talk?"

  "No." She breathed hard, feeling funny watching the couple make-out with each other, but she liked it, too. "I'm tired."

  "Hm." Dr. C chuckled. "I assume St. Mary's doesn't give you the opportunity to see what happens outside of the school."

  She glanced at him. "What do you mean?"

  "The boy and girl kissing." He paused. "It's natural. It's what two people do when they like each other."

  "I don't think I could stick my tongue in someone else's mouth without throwing up." She sagged against the back of the bench. "Can boys tell when a girl would get sick?"

  "Maybe some boys." He stretched his legs out in front of him. "Don’t worry about what you will and won't do until you're ready. Someday, you will enjoy kissing a boy and more."

  She gawked at him. "Do you kiss a lot of girls?"

  He always came to see her alone and never talked about having a girlfriend. The thought of him kissing a girl made her mad.

  "Do I like kissing women?" He paused as if giving the question serious thought. "It's a natural part of life for our body and mind to be attracted to other people. Everyone likes to feel wanted, needed, and loved."

  She mulled that over. That's not the kind of relationship people have with their parents or brothers and sisters. She'd never found anyone she wanted around her or needed, except Dr. C. He made her feel special, and he cared about her, or else he wouldn't come and see her all the time and want to hear the answers to all the questions he asked her.

  She always worried about him. What if he stopped coming, or worse, died?

  "I'd let you kiss me." She chewed on her lip. There was no one else she loved.

  "I'm a lot older than you, and as your psychologist, that would never happen. You'll find lots of other people when you're older that you'll want to kiss. And you have a lot of time before that happens." His gaze softened, and he lowered his voice. "Don't grow up too fast."

  She hoped he wouldn't go back to Astoria and kiss anyone until she had a chance to get older and show him how much he meant to her.

  "Remember what I asked you to think about last time I came?" he said.

  She sighed. He always gave her lessons. For how much she swore she'd never do them, the questions always made her obsess over what her answer would be. She wanted to make Dr. C happy but sometimes, talking about how she felt hurt.

  Her stomach knotted. She was always afraid of answering wrong, and he'd be upset and never come back or think she was stupid and mean.

  "I asked you to think of one time in your life that made you angry?" He paused. "Only one."

  Her throat tightened, and she swallowed, feeling the sickness inside of her trying to come out.

  "Katie?"

  She wrapped her arms around her middle. "I'm mad that I had to move away and go to St. Mary's."

  "And why did that upset you?"

  She looked around the park, but the teenagers had left. Only an older couple walking a dog hung out near the statue.

  "Katie?"

  She rolled her eyes. "I want my home. My bed. My stuff."

  "Those things are important."

  She glanced at him. "The bike you bought me is there."

  "Does that make you angry that you can't have it with you?"

  "It's mine. It's not my moth—" She clamped her lips together.

  Her mother took everything away from her. The night her dad had died, her mother had screamed at him that he was having an affair. She remembered her mother arguing and yelling bad names, accusing her father of never loving her. Her mom even blamed her dad for making her a mom and forcing her to raise Katie.

  Her mother never wanted her. Only her father had loved her, and now he was dead.

  "There are certain coping mechanisms a person can use to make those painful feelings go away. They'll always be there, but it softens and shortens the time you think about them." Dr. C shifted on the bench toward her. "Every time it feels like you can't stop thinking about your bike, your home, your mother, you can think about the good things that've happened because you went to St. Mary's."

  "There are none," she said, her body tensing. "She sent me away. I didn't even have a choice."

  "You have choices now." He captured her chin between his thumb and finger, turning her head toward him. "Can you tell me one choice you had to make recently?"

  "No."

  "Let me help you." His gaze softened. "You were given the option to spend Christmas at school or go home for the holiday break. What did you choose?"

  "I wanted to go to your house, but you said I couldn't." Her vision blurred with unshed tears. "That makes me angry at you."

  It wasn't fair that she had to stay at school. All the other girls went home to their families, and she was going to be stuck at St. Mary's, alone.

  "What if I told you that you can come back to Astoria." He tapped her nose when her spine stiffened, and she opened her mouth to ask if it was true. "For three days, and then you have to come back to St. Mary's and spend the rest of the break at the school."

  She nodded emphatically. "I want to do that."

  "Then, that's your choice. A pretty good one, right?" He shushed her when she started asking questions. "Before you start thinking about your break—which is a month away, let's figure out another choice you can make to feel good and push bad feelings away."

  "I don't know what that one would be."

  "Does it feel good to get an A on a test?"

  She groaned. "That's hard to do, especially in math."

  "But it's your choice to study hard. Knowing
you tried your best will often make you feel good, even if you end up with a B or C." He dropped his hand. "It's all about choices and the effort you put into wanting something. You want something bad enough, even if you fail, good things happen..." He patted his chest. "In here."

  She swung her feet, wanting the talk to be over.

  "Sometimes, when a bad feeling pops up, simply standing up and doing jumping jacks or singing a song will help you turn those feelings around." Dr. C stood. "You could call a friend and talk or draw a picture."

  "Can I call you anytime I need to talk?" The only time she called one of the girls at school was when she needed help with her homework or forgot an assignment.

  He dipped his chin. "Of course."

  "What about if it's midnight?"

  "You can," he said.

  "On the weekends?" She sat straighter. "What about when you're with other patients?"

  "Anytime."

  She jumped from the bench and flung her arms around him. "Do I really get to go to your house for Christmas?"

  He chuckled. "Yes."

  "Do you have a Christmas tree?"

  "No."

  She gazed up at him and backed away. "Can you get one?"

  "Do you want one?"

  She bit down on her lip. Maybe she was asking too much. She was already getting to spend time away from school and be in Astoria. She could walk the path, see the beach, and spend all her time with Dr. C.

  She shook her head. "I don't need one."

  "We'll have time to decide. It's not for four weeks. In the meantime, you've got school, and..." He pulled out his phone. "I need to get you back to St. Mary's in time for dinner."

  "Okay." She walked beside him.

  Excitement had her wanting to agree with anything he suggested. Going to Dr. C's house was better than going home. Besides her dad when he was alive, Dr. C was the only person who ever wanted to spend time with her.

  She hurried to keep up with him and said, "I love you, Dr. C."

  He kept walking. She looked over at him. The good feelings inside of her exploded, seeing his smile.

  Oh, he tried to hide how happy she'd made him feel, but it was there. Her choice to say a good thing helped them both.

  Chapter 11

  Dr. C drove into the garage of his house. Katie took her seatbelt off. The ride from St. Mary's to Astoria a long, boring trip with depressing weather. True to his word, he'd taken her through Longview, over the little bridge, and drove Highway 30, avoiding the Megler Bridge.

  She'd expected excitement and happiness to hit her the moment they rode through town, but everything had looked different.

  The trees around the houses in Sherwood Community were taller and leafless because of winter. Nobody was outside. Even downtown looked deserted when Dr. C drove through to get to the hill.

  "Where is everyone?" She opened the car door.

  "It's almost Christmas. Most people travel home or go to someone else's house for the holiday. Besides, it's not tourist season in December. It's always quiet around here during this time of the year." He lifted her bag out of the trunk of the car. "Are you hungry?"

  "Sort of." She walked behind him into the house, looking around.

  She'd never been to his home before. It was only one story but sat back from the road more than some of the other homes in the area, including her mom's house.

  The door led to a hallway, which turned into a kitchen. She stepped into the room, discovering it was one giant area with the living room, dining room all included with no walls. Drawn to the tall windows facing the backyard, she realized the middle one was a sliding door.

  "I didn't know you had a pool." She pressed her hand against the glass. "Is it heated?"

  "Yes." He set her bag down. "Any chance you know how to swim?"

  "I learned at Langly, and it's part of P.E. at St. Mary's, but I didn't bring my suit."

  "I'm sure we can rig something up for you to wear. A T-shirt and a pair of shorts will probably do."

  "I don't really like swimming." She returned to his side. "I just like sitting in the water. It's like a bath in a giant tub if I don't go over my head."

  "I'll show you your room." He picked the bag up again and walked down the hallway, passing several doors. "The guest room has an attached bathroom. You can stay there. If you need anything that's not in there, just let me know. It's probably in the main bathroom by the kitchen."

  She stepped inside the room. It looked like a boys' room. The blue plaid bedspread and pictures of ships on the wall made her wonder if he decorated it or someone else had.

  "You can hang out here if you're tired or come on out and eat. I'm going to throw some hamburgers on the grill."

  "I'll help." She wanted to be useful during her stay. "You don't have to work while I'm here, do you?"

  She got nervous thinking about staying for three days with him. Actually, it was four, but they were going to leave early in the morning to go back to St. Mary's, that day didn't count.

  "Nope. I'm on vacation unless an emergency comes up." He opened the freezer and removed already frozen hamburger patties.

  She was going to sleep in his house and have to take showers with him around. It all seemed weird as if he suddenly turned into a stranger when she walked into the house. He knew everything about her, and she knew little about him, including how he lived.

  "I'm glad I got to come," she said, more to convince herself to relax.

  Everything would be okay. She had to only think about one day at a time.

  It wasn't like she wanted to stay at the school. She was curious about how Dr. C lived when he wasn't with her, and now she'd be able to find out his secrets.

  She followed him outside. While he got the grill going, she walked over to the edge of the pool and stuck her hand in the water.

  "Wow, it is warm." She shook her arm and dried her fingers off on her pants.

  "It seems warmer on cooler days. In the summer, when it's hot out, it feels cold, yet it stays the same temperature." He stepped back as a flame shot in the air.

  It also made her feel weird that he lived within walking distance to her house. She could walk down the path or on the street and go see if her mom was home. If she wanted to—which she didn't.

  It'd been a year and a half since she'd seen her mom without any word from her. The last time she asked Dr. C where her mom was, he hadn't known.

  "Does my mom still live down the street?" She looked the length of the backyard at the trees blocking the path.

  "She's not there if that's what you're asking. It's been a few months since I've seen any lights on or a car in the driveway when I've gone past," said Dr. C.

  "Maybe she's dead." She looked and found him frowning. "I'm just saying, if nobody has checked on her, maybe she fell down the stairs and couldn't get back up."

  He pointed the long lighter he held in his hand at her. "That's morbid, Katie."

  "Well, you can't say it never happened somewhere before, and that's how I thought of it." She shrugged. "It doesn't matter. Even if she were there, I wouldn't go over and see her."

  "Let it go and concentrate on you. Healthy relationships and responsible choices." He put two patties on the grill. "Don't get too close."

  She stayed back. "I didn't know you could cook."

  "I have to know how to cook." He raised his brows. "If I didn't, who would feed me?"

  "I would if I was living here." She walked over to a lounge chair and stretched out on her back. "I'd have to learn first, though."

  "They should teach cooking at St. Mary's," said Dr. C.

  She laughed. "There's an idea. I'd rather take cooking than math."

  "You need math to cook."

  "Right," she said.

  "It's true."

  She thought that over. He could be right. She remembered Betsy using a cup with measurements on it when she was younger.

  "Okay, follow me inside." He used the toe of his shoe to wiggle her chair. "You can tell me what
kind of things you like on a burger."

  "Chocolate." She giggled.

  "Nice try. Pick your normal vegetables. Lettuce. Tomato. Pickles."

  "Tomatoes are a fruit." She walked inside and stood next to the island. "And, pickles aren't vegetables, they're something else."

  "Wrong." He pulled the pickle jar out of the fridge. "They're made from cucumbers."

  "Are they really?"

  He opened the jar and pulled out a pickle. "Think about it. They taste different, but they look the same."

  "If you say so." She looked in his fridge. "Do you have cheese?"

  "In the drawer."

  Together, he helped her make up the buns with all the things they liked on a burger. Then, he went outside and brought in the meat. When she put the top bun on, the hamburger looked huge. The ones at school were made with a thin piece of meat and a slice of cheese, no vegetables.

  "Do you want to eat in here or outside?" He handed her a paper napkin.

  "In here." She walked over to the table, carrying her plate. "Where do I sit?"

  "It's just us two. Anywhere you want." He sat down at the side of the table.

  She stepped over and sat at the head of the table. "Even here?"

  "Sure." He'd already taken a bite of his hamburger.

  Deciding that seat wasn't the right one, she walked around to the other side and sat across from him. The moment she took a bite, Dr. C got up and went back into the kitchen.

  "Milk, pop, or water?" he asked.

  The surprises kept coming. "Pop?"

  He carried two root beers to the table and passed her one. Staying with him was better than Christmas and the opposite of how she grew up. It was even different than school. Much, much better.

  Maybe when summer came, she could ask him if she could stay with him instead of at the school. She could clean his house or learn to cook for him. That way, she wouldn't be a burden, and he'd learn to enjoy having her around every day.

  CHRISTMAS MORNING, she walked out of the bedroom to hear music playing in the living room. Her stomach fluttered in excitement, and she hurried to find Dr. C.

  He sat in his chair with a magazine about psychology in his lap. She bounded toward him and stopped halfway there.