by James, Sandy
That’s what I have coming for dating a student’s parent.
Hands were suddenly waving in front of my face. “You did it again,” Mark said with a chuckle. “You’re thinking too hard again.”
“I can get a cab.”
“Where the hell did that come from?” he asked, looking a bit confused.
“You need to go, remember? Just trying to expedite matters for you.” I tried not to sound too hurt, but I was.
Shit. I’d already let the guy in.
“I need to go to a crime scene, but I can drop you off first,” he insisted.
“Fine. Whatever.” I flippantly dismissed him with a wave of my hand.
I tried to be nonchalant as we took off our skates and put our shoes back on. My ankles ached enough I’d be sucking down Tylenol the instant I got home. Since it was Friday and my pride was aching from the smacking it just received, I’d be drowning it in a wine cooler or two.
Mark didn’t say anything, but he acted a little angry. I seriously heard him growl.
We dropped our skates off and walked back out to the parking lot. When we got to his car, he reached to open the door, but suddenly seemed to change his mind. He grabbed his cell phone and punched the screen. Then he held it up to me and showed me the list of incoming calls.
The last one read, “Police HQ.”
Detectives are too damned smart for their own good.
I had no idea what to say to him, so I chose to babble incoherently instead. “Mark, I’m sorry... I didn’t... It’s been so long...”
He actually laughed. “It’s all right. I’d have been suspicious too.”
By the time we got back to my house, I’d blown the chance to get to know Mr. Yummy any better. After all, who wanted to date an obviously neurotic forty-something?
Mark walked me to the door. When I retrieved my keys from my purse, he gripped my arm and turned me to face him. He leaned over me and put his hand on the door behind me. I felt as though I couldn’t breathe as his face hovered close to mine.
“I’m sorry I have to go, Jackie,” he whispered, his lips inches from mine. “Would you like to go out tomorrow?”
I couldn’t have been more surprised if someone had told me I was going to be a mother again. “You want to go out with me again?” slipped out of my mouth before I could stop the question.
He leaned in a little closer and ran a warm finger down my cheek to my chin. “Of course.”
My body started to tremble.
As he pressed his lips to mine, every bit of tension fled my muscles. I leaned in as he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me against him.
It was one of those movie kisses that seem to go on forever, and you know it will make you sigh when it ends. The man did magic with his lips. When his tongue slid into my mouth, I feared my knees were going to give. It had been years since I felt the kind of warmth Mark’s kiss sent racing through me.
Hell, I didn’t think David ever kissed me like that.
Mark didn’t seem to want to pull away. His face lingered in front of mine for a moment. “I’m sorry I have to go,” he said again as he brushed his knuckles across my cheek.
I nodded, not trusting myself to say anything.
“I’ll call you tomorrow.”
I nodded again.
He quickly brushed his lips against mine one last time before he turned and jogged back to his car.
As he drove away I stood on the front porch and waved.
Good God, I could be so damned lame sometimes.
CHAPTER FIVE
“Mom? You okay?” Patrick asked.
I shifted the cordless telephone to my other ear. “I’m fine. Why do you keep asking me that?”
“You seem kinda...distracted for so early in the morning. So are you coming?”
“Yeah. I appreciate you calling to let me know. I know Nate probably won’t. Then again, it’s not until October. I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt and assume he’ll call before then.”
It was almost Parents’ Day. Even though I had gone to the event when Patrick was a freshman, I’d forgotten all about it. It dawned on me that if Patrick hadn’t bothered to call, Nate would’ve hidden the occasion. He wanted his independence as badly as I wanted to hold onto him. Realizing how Freudian the whole situation seemed, I wondered if Nate would be angry if I went down to visit uninvited.
I’d have to think about that one.
Shit. I’d have to call David to see if he was aware there was a Parents’ Day and if he and the “little woman” were going.
Call-waiting sounded, so I said my farewells to my oldest. Knowing it had to be Julie checking in to get the scoop on my date, I sarcastically greeted the new caller. “You’ve reached The Sex Emporium. Dominatrix Mistress Jackie speaking. How may I punish you?”
“Um. Okay. I’ll bite. Sex-slave Mark here. I prefer black leather and a light spanking.”
I slapped my forehead with the heel of my hand. Why hadn’t I even bothered to check the caller-ID?
Now what, Ms. Sarcastic? Get yourself out of this one gracefully.
“Can we please forget that I just said that?”
Mark chuckled, warm and kind despite my faux pas. “A greeting like that? I seriously doubt it. Did you mean it last night when you said you wanted to go out tonight?”
Why did I always feel the need to nod when no one was around to see me? “Yeah. I meant it. But if you’ve made other—”
“Stop thinking, Jackie.”
I had to laugh at that. “All right. And just where are we heading tonight? We could always play nine holes. How about a good game of ‘horse’? Maybe toss a football around?”
“I was thinking something a little more...relaxed.”
“Relaxed?”
He chuckled again. “Yeah, relaxed. Do you like movies?”
Quit nodding, moron. “I love movies.” I went almost every weekend. The paper was already open to the entertainment section when I’d answered Patrick’s call. “What do you want to see?”
“Doesn’t matter. The girls have collected just about every DVD known to mankind.”
“You mean you want to stay in?”
Why was I in such a panic over the idea of an intimate evening alone with Mr. Yummy?
Probably because I’d have a hard time keeping my hands off him.
“Sure. We can pop some popcorn, grab some Twizzlers, and watch a good show or two. I know. We’ll get pizza.”
“Um... All right, I guess. My place or yours?”
“Maybe we better come here.” He laughed, the rumbling sound so deep and so obviously sincere it was heaven to my ears. “I’m not sure I’m up to the Sex Emporium.”
“Coward.”
“Do you mind if Carly sticks around? I miss Kathy, and I think Carly does to—although she’d never admit it. I think she’d like the company.”
“I’d love to spend time with Carly. She’s a nice kid.” And I think she’s on my side.
“Thanks. Give me your email address and I’ll send some directions.”
***
“What was I thinking?” I asked Julie for the hundredth time. “I can’t go to his house. Carly will be there. What if he kisses me again or...or...something?” I threw more dirty clothes into the washing machine and poured in some detergent.
“Jackie, you’re being silly.”
“Gee, thanks. That helps a whole heap,” I replied before realizing how snotty I probably sounded. “I like this guy, Julie. I really do.”
She sighed. “Then quit acting like you’re terrified of him.”
I slammed the lid on the extraordinarily small load of clothing. With the boys gone and very little laundry of my own, I was going through some kind of withdrawal. I used to spend most of every Saturday in the laundry room, buried under piles of sweaty socks, gym shorts, t-shirts, and jeans. “But I am terrified. I don’t want to like him. I don’t need this. I have a great life. He’ll just be...I don’t know. A...complication.”
I could tell Julie was quickly getting exasperated with me. The sound of her fingers drumming on some surface was easy to hear. I couldn’t really blame her for being irritated. I’d probably talked to her ten times already, and it was only two o’clock. I was supposed to be at Mark’s around six. Julie could probably anticipate at least a dozen more calls including the one from my cell phone when I finally drove over there.
“What are you going to wear?” she asked.
“Nice diversionary tactic.”
“Thank you. Look, I’m sorry, Jackie, but I’ve got to go. Are you going to be okay?”
“Yeah. I’m just nervous. Tell me again.”
“You’re doing the right thing.”
“Thanks, sweetie. Love you.”
“Love you too.” The sound as she hung up echoed through my brain like the chiming of a gong.
I was alone again.
I walked out of the laundry room and peered around for something to do. The emptying of my nest had thrust so many changes into my orderly world. Saturday had always been the day when I spent quite a bit of time making my house look like something other than a landfill. I’d yell at the boys to pick up their stuff as I used an old pair of ratty underwear to dust the furniture. Then we’d move on to the “who’s-going-to-have-to-vacuum” dance. Of course, I usually ended up leading.
No matter which room I checked, the house was clean. It didn’t really appear any different than when I’d cleaned it the day after Nate left.
Funny. This was what I’d always wanted. Now my pristine house made me sad.
I decided that I needed to get another pet—like a puppy or a kitten. Maybe then I’d have someone to clean up after.
***
I couldn’t believe I’d found his house so easily. Mark gave really good directions. And really nice kisses.
Grow up, Jacqueline.
I grabbed the cell phone I’d propped up in the cup holder and slipped it in my pocket. With a deep, steadying breath, I left my minivan and walked to the front door. It opened before I could even reach my finger up to push the doorbell.
“Ms. Delgado!” Carly squealed. “Come in! Daddy’s been pacing around waiting for you. And he’s been running around picking stuff up all day. And he even shaved. On a Saturday!”
I smiled. The fact that she was so glad to see me warmed my heart. When Mark walked up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders, I warmed up a little more.
“Brat,” he said as he squeezed her arms. “You’re tattling on me.”
She grinned at him over her shoulder. “Can we order pizza now? Please?” She turned back to me and gave me a smile that showed all of her silver braces with tiny purple rubber bands. “What do you like on your pizza, Ms. Delgado?”
“Pepperoni.”
“Me too!” She turned back to her father. “That’s your favorite too, isn’t it, Daddy?” Her attention flipped back to me. “Daddy likes the same stuff you do. Pepperoni pizza.” She stopped, laying her index finger against her cheek as if in deep thought. “Oh! And he likes biology, too.”
It suddenly occurred to me that Carly was matchmaking. She was a budding Yenta straight out of Fiddler on the Roof. God love her, she wanted me to like her father. That wasn’t something she needed to worry about. I already did.
He reached up and ruffled her hair.
She threw him a disgruntled glare and tried to comb her bangs back into place with her fingers.
“I’ll go call Domino’s,” she announced. She started to run out of the foyer, but quickly whirled back around. “Breadsticks, too? And some cinnamon sticks?”
Mark nodded.
Carly was practically skipping when she left.
“Sorry.” He took my hand and started to pull me out of the foyer.
“Why? She’s wonderful.”
He chuckled. “And a little too enthusiastic. She likes you. A lot. And she... Well, she misses her mother.”
I’d forgotten all about his late wife. Didn’t Suzanne say she passed away because of breast cancer?
A wave of sadness washed over me. I had a habit of absorbing other people’s emotions, and I could tell exactly how much the subject was still haunting Mark.
“I’m so sorry about her mother.” Tears stung my eyes.
“I still…” He swiped his hand over his face. “I miss her sometimes.”
His long sigh sounded mournful to me. He must have loved his late wife a great deal. I wanted to pull him into my arms, stroke his hair, and tell him I would make it all better.
But I couldn’t do that—wouldn’t do that—because I wasn’t capable of making this better for him. Life could be so cruel sometimes. I gave his hand a reassuring squeeze and fought my own tears.
It was the best I could manage.
Mark shook off his melancholy and he favored me with a weak smile. “Let’s go see what kind of junk food she’s ordered. Maybe we can pick a flick before she chooses something lame.”
The house was beautiful. He led me through a dining room, a den, and a formal gathering room that looked like a damned museum. The carpet still bore the marks the vacuum left in its wake.
I was about to make some smart-aleck remark concerning whether he suffered from obsessive-compulsive disorder when it dawned on me that with Patrick and Nate gone there were probably several rooms in my house that I never set foot inside anymore. They were probably exactly like this room. I bit my tongue and enjoyed the rest of the tour.
We settled in the kitchen. Mark pulled out a long-legged wooden barstool that was sitting next to a large island of cabinets. I took a seat while he poured soft drinks for the three of us. Carly scooted onto the barstool next to me, leaned her elbows on the counter, and stared at her father.
He raised an eyebrow at her, held up his wrist, and pointed to his watch. She smiled and nodded.
I realized I’d missed something. These two communicated well without words.
Carly bounced off the stool and held out her hand. Mark pulled out his wallet, set a twenty-dollar bill on her palm, and shoved the wallet back into his pocket. She frowned, narrowed her eyes at him, and began to tap her toes on the tiled floor. He let out an exaggerated sigh before he fished his wallet back out of his pants. He pulled another twenty out and held it out to Carly. She snatched the bill from his fingers, kissed his cheek, and headed back toward the front of the house.
The doorbell rang only a moment or two later.
Mark smiled at my confused star. “She gets to keep the change.”
“Ah. Now I know why she was so happy.”
“Yeah, but she has to give the delivery kid a tip. She can be pretty stingy.”
Carly brought back the pizza boxes, set them on the counter, and grabbed some plates from one of the cabinets.
Mark handed me a plate and then piled his own with a several slices of pepperoni pizza, a couple of breadsticks, and a container of cheese dipping sauce. He disappeared into the family room.
I took a slice of pizza and followed Carly as she headed the same direction.
She nodded toward the large sofa, so I sat down. She left her plate on the glass coffee table and ran back to the kitchen. When she returned, she set our glasses of soda down on the table, picked her plate back up, and plopped down in a recliner.
Mark was fiddling with a DVD player connected to a large-screen television. “I took the liberty of choosing a movie. Let me know if you don’t like it, Jackie.”
“I’m sure it’s fine.” I picked up my pizza and took a bite. I almost choked when Jackass came on the screen. With some embarrassment, I quickly chewed and swallowed the pizza. “Your favorite show?”
He laughed. “Nah. Just wanted to see your reaction.”
“Cops are weird. He’s always trying to find out about people by watching them,” Carly added from her perch on the recliner.
He winked at her before he asked, “What do we watch, Ms. Delgado? I vote for one of the Lethal Weapon shows.”
Carly
wrinkled her nose. “If I have to watch one of those again, I’ll... I’ll...”
“Leave us alone?” her father asked with a raised eyebrow.
“You said I could stay for a while!”
Fearing a family fight over the presence of a teenage chaperone, I intervened. “I don’t like cop shows. Too much...macho. All that testosterone and all.”
In actuality, I hated violence in any form—especially guns. They made me queasy and nervous. For me, watching an action flick would’ve been akin to having a nasty root canal without any anesthetic. The only thing I would have hated worse was a slasher flick. My theory was those kinds of movies would eventually lead to the downfall of mankind.
Mark appeared to be properly outraged.
I retaliated with a smile. “And Carly, you can stay. I enjoy your company.”
He looked properly pleased. After plucking a DVD from the shelf, he shoved it in the player and then flopped down next to me on the couch hard enough I bounced.
Happy Feet came on the screen. I hadn’t seen it, so I was thrilled. At least I was thrilled until I realized how many references to sex would be included in what was supposed to be a children’s cartoon. Jesus, the temperature went up rapidly. Mark and Carly didn’t seem to mind.
Maybe the problem was my own dirty mind.
Sometime during the show, she brought in the cinnamon sticks, and I ate a couple despite the fact it would be faster to apply them directly to my thighs and bypass the stomach entirely. They were going to wind up there eventually anyway.
As I held one up to take a bite, some of the icing began to drip, and I quickly caught it with the fingers of my other hand.
Carly jumped up and ran to the kitchen—probably to get me a napkin.
Mark glanced over his shoulder toward the kitchen, then he reached for my sticky fingers and licked off the icing with one long, caressing lick of that heavenly tongue.
My face must have flushed the same red as the old Soviet Union flag. My heart was pounding a frantic rhythm as I realized just how much this man affected me.