by M. E. Carter
“And that was it? Love at first sight?”
“Oh no.” I shake my head. “We ran into each other a couple of times before he asked me to coffee. You need to know, I didn’t go because he was the Jack Pride, your coach. I went because he was nice. He was attractive. We just kind of clicked. So we went out again. And then again. And he called and we texted.” I shrug. “It was just dating.”
He snorts humorlessly. “Didn’t look like just dating to me,” he grumbles.
I raise an eyebrow at him. “Did you come over to fight with me or to make amends?”
He closes his eyes, and I can tell he’s trying to stay focused on the task at hand. But this is uncharted territory for him. For us. And I know he’s not quite sure what to do.
“Isaac,” I say gently, “I’ve never not dated. Not ever.” His head snaps up, and he gapes at me as I talk. “As a mom, my job has always been to protect you. That meant protecting you from my dating life as well. There was no sense in bringing someone around if I wasn’t sure the relationship was going anywhere. That would have been really hard on you . . . to attach and then separate. It wouldn’t have been healthy. But my mistake was not at least letting you understand that I was, in fact, dating. It probably wouldn’t feel so jarring if you had always known.”
“I always . . .” He rubs his thumb over his bottom lip, something he always does when he’s trying to find the right words. “I guess I thought it would always just be you and me.”
I love the fact that he may be a six-foot-something grown man, but in some ways, he’s still just a little boy. “Isaac, what did you think would happen when you found the woman of your dreams and got married? Would you move in here and have two women to take care of you?”
He snickers. “No. I guess the reality of my own life never connected with the reality of yours. Like, why would you be lonely? You have me. Without really thinking about the fact that I’m not here anymore.”
“And it’s always been you and me against the world.” He nods sadly at my statement. “Isaac, it’ll still be you and me. We have a unique bond, just by virtue of you growing up as an only child to a single mom. We have a stronger connection than many parent-child relationships out there. But that doesn’t mean either of us should or even wants to cut out love interests.”
He sits up and for the first time since he got here, he seems to relax. Really relax. Like he’s not uncomfortable being here anymore. Like it feels like home again.
“I had a nice long talk with Coach.” Those are not the words I was expecting, but I roll with it. “I asked him if he was just sleeping with you or if he really liked you.”
I want to be irritated with my son for discussing the significance of my relationship with Jack before I do. But instead, I’m nervous about the outcome. “And what did he say?” I ask quietly, hoping the answer isn’t a bad one.
“He said he hasn’t liked anyone as much as he likes you since his wife died.”
I can feel my cheeks stretch when I grin. Isaac rolling his eyes at my reaction confirms how wide my smile is. It feels good to know Jack likes me that much. I like him that much, too.
“Don’t read too much into it, Mom.” His face is turned up in a grimace as he thinks about me being in love. “It’s not like you’re marrying the guy. Wait”—his eyes snap over to mine—“you’re not marrying him right?”
I cover my mouth, trying to stifle a giggle but failing.
“It’s not funny,” Isaac complains. “I don’t wanna accidentally find out something like that by walking in on you during your honeymoon or something.”
I’m not even trying to not laugh at his ridiculousness now. “Oh my gosh, Isaac, I’m not getting married. And if I do, I’ll tell you long before it happens.”
“Uh huh,” he deadpans.
“I’m serious,” I protest. “I was planning to tell you we were dating, but I didn’t have a chance before you—” Isaac scowls before I even finish my sentence. “Well, you know. But it really wasn’t a secret. More like a missed opportunity.”
“I’ll have to take your word for it.” He smiles shyly at me and I smile back. All of a sudden, everything feels right again. “Anyway, Mom. I just want to say I’m sorry. For everything. I shouldn’t have disappeared like that. I was being an entitled little brat, and it was wrong of me.”
I reach over and clasp his hand. “It was. But you are so, so forgiven. I’ve missed you.”
He tugs on my hand and pulls me to the couch he’s on to hug me, causing me to squeal and drop the flowers on the floor. It still surprises me sometimes that my baby boy is big enough to manhandle me. “I’ve missed you, too. And I guess I should start calling before I come over.”
Pulling away, I pat him on the cheeks. “You don’t have to do that. You can use your key. I promise you, as long as you don’t barge into my bedroom, you will never catch me in a compromising position.”
“Yeah,” he says, obviously getting uncomfortable again. “You guys weren’t exactly quiet.” I gasp, mortified that not only did he see us, he heard us. And yet, I’m baffled as to why that wasn’t his first clue he shouldn’t come barreling in that day. “So I’ll make sure to have my earbuds in if his truck is in the driveway.”
I giggle and lean over to pick up the flowers. “Come on.” I pat his knee and stand up. “Help me put these clothes away, and we can watch a couple episodes of Riverdale before I hit the sack.”
“Isn’t that the Archie and Jughead show with all those nineties teen stars as the parents now? Why would I want to watch that crap?” he argues as he picks up some towels and heads toward the bathroom.
“Because it’s a good brain break.”
“If you say so,” he calls over his shoulder.
Despite his objections, he stays and watches for a while. And much to my delight and his mortification, he’s now hooked.
“Well hey there, gorgeous! Fancy seeing you here.”
Joie’s jaw drops open in delighted surprise. “What are you doing here?”
I saunter over, really wanting to kiss her, but knowing that’s not possible right here, right now. Instead, I admire how little wisps of her hair blow in the breeze. Good god, I’ve turned into a love-sick sap.
“I’m headed over to the administration building. Thought you might need an escort.”
She narrows her eyes at me playfully. “Need one? No. But I would love the company.”
“Noted.”
We begin a slow meander toward the orange brick science building, me giving half-hearted waves when random students greet me. We’re in no rush. She’ll make it to class with plenty of time, and I’m avoiding my destination anyway.
“How was your lit class?” I ask.
She immediately scoffs. “The class itself is fine. It’s Mia I have the most trouble with.”
“Mia?”
“Chatty Cathy.”
“Ah,” I chuckle. “She’s still chatty?”
Joie’s head falls back like she’s begging the heavens above for mercy. “I know she’s young. I know she’s immature. But if she could just shut up for one minute, that would be great. I really don’t need to be kicked out of this class because she has no filter. I mean literally. None. There is no shutoff valve.”
“You won’t be kicked out,” I reassure her.
“Oh yeah? How do you know, Mister Smarty Pants?” She bumps me with her shoulder, which does nothing at all to knock me off balance. She, however, loses her step. I grab her by the arm, steadying her. “You’d be surprised how much a student’s reputation precedes them in the world of academia.”
Her eyebrows shoot up. “Oh yeah? Even you know about the famous Mia?”
“Know all about her. And not because she’s a partier, but because she’s not the only chatty one. You should see an entire university’s worth of professors at an open bar Christmas party.”
She laughs, which makes me happy. I love that she’s so lighthearted and free. Joie doesn’t worry about the same
crap most people stress over. She has no interest in keeping up with the Joneses. She just wants a good life filled with good people.
“I want to thank you, Jack,” she says, turning serious. I look at her quizzically even though I suspect I know what she’s talking about. “For convincing Isaac to make amends.”
“Bah,” I say, dismissing her claims. “I had nothing to do with it. He was getting ready to come around all on his own.”
“He may have been getting ready to, but I know you were the push he needed.” I don’t bother telling her it was actually a locker room brawl and an ass chewing by Hank that shook him out of his hissy fit. Some things a mother doesn’t need to worry about. And I know her. She’ll worry. She may have handled Stevens like the adult he is, but she’s still Isaac’s mom. If she’s anything like mine was, she’ll never stop worrying about her child. “Anyway, just know it’s all sorted out and in a weird way, we sort of have his blessing now. Although he and Brian both may have threatened to kick your butt if you ever hurt me.”
“Anderson, too?” I need to have a little talk to these ass wipes.
Joie giggles at I what I assume is an agitated look I’m sporting. “Relax. I think it’s sweet they plan to fight for my honor if you don’t.”
I give her a look that makes her giggle again. Yes, she has a point, but I’ll never admit to it. They’ve become far too comfortable with talking shit in front of my girlfriend. I may have to add some drills, where they play the role of the tackle dummy. We were going to do it anyway, but they don’t have to know that. Might as use the extra conditioning to my benefit.
“What time are you done tonight?” I ask when we finally reach the front of the science building.
“Um, my last class ends at three, so I’ll probably leave around six after I study for a bit. Why?”
I cock one eyebrow at her. “Are you expecting Stevens at home tonight?”
She smirks back at me, knowing what I’m getting at. “Even if I was, he doesn’t plan on barging into my bedroom again. Ever.”
“Does that mean you’re up for company?”
“Always,” she says and turns away to walk up the stairs.
I know she’s about to be late, but I can’t help myself when I yell, “Hey Joie?” She turns to look at me, one knee bent having stopped mid climb. It makes her hip pop out and her ass look amazing. “When you see Anderson today, don’t ask him about his lip, okay?”
“Brian?” she asks quizzically. “What happened to his lip?”
“Trust me.” I raise my hands up in front of me as I walk backward. “You don’t want to know.”
“That wasn’t nice, Jack Pride,” she calls after me. “Now I want to know.”
I wave over my shoulder and chuckle to myself. Now I’m off the hook from having to tell her about Stevens’s meltdown, and Anderson is on it. Serves that little punk right. But he’s still doing the drills.
Accelerating my pace, I head to the administration building. My appointment is in five minutes, and I don’t want to be late. Even though I wouldn’t mind not going at all.
When I got the call from Human Resources about thirty minutes ago, I was shocked, to say the least. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized I should have seen this coming. I’m dating a student. Not only that, I’m dating the mother of a scholarship recipient. As innocent as it is, I’m sure there are red flags all over this situation. I’m less surprised by the need to call me in, and more surprised that it took this long.
Taking the stairs two at a time to the second floor, I reach Patty Strause’s door right on time. Before I can knock, she calls for me to come in.
Patty has been a fixture of Flinton State University for as long as anyone can remember. She’s well past retirement age, but swears she’s going to outlast us all. With her sharp-as-a-tack hearing and quick wit, I don’t doubt it. But her ability to keep up with all the changing human resource laws is what has me running scared right about now, too. If I’ve done something wrong, she’ll know and there won’t be any way to talk myself out of it if she thinks it puts the university at risk in any way.
“Have a seat.” She gestures to the red chair in front of her desk. Briefly, I wish Hank would splurge for some fancy chairs like this. But then I remember how sweaty we get on a daily basis and realize a cloth chair, no matter how comfortable, would eventually smell like funk. We have enough of that already.
Turning from her computer, she faces me, placing a small recording device on the desk. This does not look good for me at all.
“Thanks for coming in on such short notice. I want to get this over and done with so we can all move on.”
My heart rate ratchets up a notch. “Move on? Why are we moving on?”
She waves me off like I’m being ridiculous. “It’s a figure of speech. You can relax.”
I take a deep breath and sit back in the chair. “Okay. So why am I here?”
She leans her arms on the desk, hands clasped in front of her. “Because it’s come to my attention that you’re dating a student. And now I get to investigate.”
“Shit,” I mumble as I rub my eyes with the heels of my hands. “Randy Whitman called?”
She bobbles her head side to side. “As well as a few other rumblings I’ve been hearing lately.”
“I was afraid you were going to say that.”
“So you knew it was a violation of university policy when you began dating her?”
“Yes. No. I don’t really know.” I shake my head to try and clear myself of the confusion and sudden fear I have that I’m going to have to choose between my job and my girlfriend. Neither is one I want to give up for the other. “I assumed that policy was more about professors dating students or coaches dating players.”
She stares at me for a few seconds, like she’s trying to make a decision. Then she speaks. “Between you and me, and completely off the record, I agree with you.”
I feel my eyes widen as she waves me off again, clearly not impressed by my reaction.
“That policy was put in place years ago and was for the exact intensions you mentioned. We didn’t want anyone to be able to use their position of authority to manipulate the young adults they were in charge of. In contrast, we didn’t want the young adults to be able to ruin the reputation of the people in charge of them. It was a quick and easy solution.”
“Wait, you were here when that policy went into place?”
She looks at me like I’m not the brightest bulb. “Of course I was. It was my idea. Preventative measures if you will. But back then, colleges were run more like high schools. Coaches did double duty and taught in the classroom. Things have come a long way, and clearly, not all our policies have kept up.”
“So then why am I here?”
She gives me a look that reminds me of the cat that ate the canary. “Because you found a loophole. I like it when people find loopholes. It means I get to fill them. So we’re going to clear the air before anyone even cries foul.”
“You mean Whitman wasn’t pissed?”
“Angry? No.” She grabs a piece of paper off the printer and places it in front of her. “Curious about what it could mean for the program? Yes.”
I don’t really know what she’s getting at, but at this point, I don’t have to. I just have to go along with whatever she’s talking about and pray my job and my relationship come out of this fully intact. I watch as she reaches over and presses the record button on the small tape player. Once it’s rolling, she begins the inquisition.
“I’m speaking with Jack Pride, Assistant Football Coach for the Flinton State University Vikings. Jack, can you please verify that the information I have just provided is correct.”
I furrow my eyebrows for a second but then shrug. This isn’t my rodeo, so I’ll just have to go along with it. “Yes. That is correct.”
“And you are currently dating Joie Stevens, a student at Flinton State University. Is that correct?”
“That’s correct. Howe
ver,” I add, “I think it’s worth noting, she’s not a regular student.” I expect Patty to be angry about the addition to my answer. Instead, she nods, like she’s encouraging me to continue. “She’s a forty-two-year-old non-traditional student, who I have no authority over whatsoever.”
Patty smiles conspiratorially at me and continues, “Jack, when you began dating Ms. Stevens, were you aware of university policy that prohibits faculty from dating students.” I look up her and see her nodding her head at me, like she’s encouraging me to agree with her statement. So I take a chance.
“Yes.”
A thumb’s up is flashed my direction. Now I’m thoroughly confused, but I trust her.
“When you began dating, did you think it was a direct violation of the aforementioned policy?” She shakes her head at me. Now I know she’s guiding me through this, and I feel myself relax into the questioning.
“No,” I say. “Because I do not, and will not, ever have any authority over her. I did not believe it would be in violation of that policy.”
Another thumbs up my direction.
“When did you first meet Joie Stevens?”
I chuckle, eliciting a frown from Patty, which immediately dries up any laughter. Patty can be scary if she wants to be.
“I believe it was the first day of class.”
I stop, expecting another question, but Patty moves her finger in a circle, telling me to continue.
“I was on my way to speak to the advisor of one of our players who isn’t doing so hot academically. I was looking at my phone and I ran into her.”
“Like ran over her?”
“Yep.” I chuckle at the memory. “Her bag flew open and spilled everything everywhere. So I helped her gather her things and gave her directions to her next class. Didn’t see her again for another week.”
“What happened the next week?”
I clear my throat and rub my neck. “I’m almost ashamed to admit, I ran into her a second time.”
For the first time since I’ve met her, Patty looks somewhat stunned by my admission. “You . . . you ran into her again?”
“Yeah. It wasn’t my finest moment.”