by Penny Dixon
‘He’s changed since he lose his job.’
‘How’s he changed?’
‘Since we move here him on my back every day. He find fault with everything I do. It’s not good enough for me to get good grades. I have to get excellent ones. He don’t play sport with me anymore. He hardly laugh and joke with me any more. Everything so serious. And he gets angry sometimes for no reason. I can say one thing today and it’s all right and when I say it tomorrow he gets angry and shout at me. He grounded me ages ago and every time I ask if he can lift it, he tell me my grades not good enough yet. It’s no fun at home so sometimes I just stay out with my friends. If I’m going to get into trouble for no reason I might as well get into trouble for something I do.’
His fingers are clenched tightly, his body is rigid. His breathing’s shallow as it passes noisily in and out of his nostrils.
‘I’m sorry to hear how difficult it’s been for you,’ I say quietly. He’s turned on the tap and I don’t want him to turn it off again. It feels like it’s been tightly closed for some time. ‘You sound like you miss your dad very much.’
‘I miss the way he was. The way we were when he had his job and before Mel moved in.’
‘What do you think of Mel?’ I know it should be a purely professional question but I find myself listening more intently for his opinion.
‘She’s all right really. But if she wasn’t there he would have more time for me. Sometimes the two of them go out and leave me in the house. She go to football with him on Sundays instead of me.’ His voice relaxes a little as he says, ‘She make me laugh sometimes when he’s been angry with me. Sometimes she’s fun.’
‘What do you want to do when you leave school, Darron?’ I try to take his mind off his dad.
‘Daddy wants me to be an architect.’
‘And is that what you want?’
‘I guess. If my grades are good enough.’ I sense his hesitation.
‘And if they’re not?’
‘Well, I really want to be a professional footballer!’ He lights up.
‘American or English.’
‘English. I would love to go to England and play football.
‘What does your dad think of you being a footballer?’
‘He says it a good idea after I finish my schooling. But he won’t let me play anymore.’ The anger is back in his voice.
‘You know, Darron, I talk to your dad and he’s not happy. I talk to you and you’re not happy. What do you want to happen? What would make you happy?’
‘I want him to lift the grounding.’
‘And that will do it?’
He thinks for a while.
‘I want him to spend more time with me. I don’t mind if he don’t buy me things because I know he can’t afford it without a job… I want him to stop being angry so much.’
‘Have you told him this?’
‘Course not. He wouldn’t listen.’
It’s been drizzling for a few minutes and it’s beginning to get heavier.
‘Do you mind if we walk back now?’ I ask.
‘Yeah sure, we can get back home this way.’
‘Do you mind if I mention to your dad what we’ve talked about? I think it would really help.’
‘Yeah, I guess,’ he answers slowly.
‘If there’s anything you’d rather I didn’t tell him…’ I leave it hanging.
He looks as if he’s playing back our conversation for anything incriminating. He finally states, ‘No you can tell him everything.’
Grant comes eagerly into the lounge as we arrive and looks expectantly at me. Darron goes into the kitchen to join Melissa.
‘Do you want a drink now?’ he enquires, reaching for the bottle of Mount Gay.
‘Yes please.’
He pours the golden liquid over ice cubes, adds the coke and hands it to me.
‘Thanks.’ I take a sip and let it cool my mouth. He looks about to burst with expectation.
‘You have a very observant and intuitive son,’ I begin. ‘I think you need to listen to him and you need to tell him what’s troubling you instead of taking it out on him.’
He looks appalled. It’s obviously not what he’s expecting. In hushed tones I tell him Darron would like him to lift the grounding and that I support him. It’s gone on too long to be effective.
‘What do you suggest I do?’ He looks genuinely uncertain.
‘You could maybe start with some negotiation.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘When you take everything away from him and it’s all or nothing to get them back, it can seem like too big a mountain to climb. If he can get a bit at a time back for doing some of what is expected of him, there’s more chance he will do it.’
‘So what do I have to negotiate?’
‘That’s for both of you to decide. Ask him what’s most important to him and bargain with that, but he has to get something back. It can’t be a one-way street.’
‘OK.’ He looks pensive. It’s a look I like to see on parents’ faces. It generally means they’re thinking about their children’s needs.
Dinner is fried chicken, macaroni pie, mashed potatoes and salad. ‘It was a joint effort,’ Grant proudly declares as we sit around the small dining table. Darron’s very proud of his “crushed” potatoes. Grant made the salad. Melissa the chicken and macaroni pie. The atmosphere’s light. Grant laughs frequently at Darron’s comments, almost as though he’s making up for lost time.
They leave the TV on and the conversation centres around Z channel’s discussions of the music and lives of celebrities. This is interspersed with questions about England, my experiences there, my work, my children. More than once I ask myself what Grant’s doing with Melissa, who seems to have more in common with Darron than with him. Grant and I could be the parents of these two children. Yet there’s something quite steely beneath her immature exterior.
Despite this, I feel very included. I have another two small rum and cokes. Melissa only drinks beer occasionally, doesn’t like the taste of spirits. Her taste buds probably haven’t developed yet, I think uncharitably. Darron’s tried beer but doesn’t like the taste. So it’s just me and Grant, the adults, drinking.
I’d convinced myself Melissa would be a pouty femme fatal, now I realise I’m not in the least bit jealous of this Z obsessed stick insect. Grant seems so solid next to her.
What are you doing here? I ask myself. I’ve been made to feel so much a part of this family, it could almost be incest to have sex with Grant. After a couple of hours I plead fatigue and apologise for not being able to stay longer. Grant leaps up to take me home. I hug Melissa; a polite thank you hug. Darron’s hug is full of unspoken gratitude.
As he pulls the car off the drive, he brushes my arm. ‘I bet you’re thinking you don’t have any competition.’
‘Wasn’t aware I was competing.’ I’m insulted he could think of putting me in the same bracket as Melissa.
‘You see what I mean about her immaturity though?’
‘Then why are you with her?’ Something’s not adding up. There’s more to this relationship than he’s saying. More to Melissa than a clinging ivy. She has a hold over him but I’m not sure what it is.
‘Can you drive around a bit or can we go somewhere quiet?’ I’m not ready to face Celia yet. I need a bit of space to process what just happened. On the one hand Melissa appeared so young, so immature, so trusting. If she has any concerns about the relationship between me and Grant she didn’t show it. Yet there was something about her I couldn’t put my finger on; something in the way she responded to a woman on the TV who married an older man.
‘She’s only doing it for the money,’ she’d sneered.
‘You don’t think she could be in love?’ I’d asked.
‘Whenever you see those young women marry those old men is only one thing they after. I don’t blame them though, cause all men want to do is use women. I don�
�t trust them.’
Grant didn’t question or contradict her, didn’t defend himself or mankind. If he’s got money there’s little evidence of it. The conversation moved on to someone else on the TV.
‘What do you think of him?’ I realise Grant’s been talking to me.
‘Who?’
‘Darron.’
‘I think you have a fine son.’ I feel like I’m giving a report to a client. ‘He seems well balanced, knows what he wants and now wants to work for it.’
‘You think so?’
‘He’s missing you though. He desperately wants that closeness back. He thinks you’ve been too harsh on him.’
‘I just want him to do well, and I was so disappointed when…’
‘Then let him back in,’ I interrupt. ‘You’re the adult here. He shouldn’t have to prove himself to get your love.’
He looks surprised at the sharpness in my voice. ‘I’m sorry,’ I say a little more softly. ‘You’ve raised an ambitious, caring and sensitive young man, and I applaud you for it. Don’t make the mistake so many parents make and desert him in his hour of greatest need.’
‘What do you mean “greatest need”? Darron have everything he need.’
‘Now you’re just being stubborn. He’s at an age where he’s having to work out who he is – and it’s not always going to be who or what you want him to be. He needs to be able to work that through with you; and it’s now you cut him off. Grant, you’ve raised a fine son so far but the job’s not done.’
We pull up on a quiet street from where I can see the sea. Lights shimmer and tremble on the vast mirror. The turquoise blue of this morning has shifted and changed to indigo then inky black; the brightly clothed people have become dark punctuation marks in the water.
‘I just want him to do well. I know how hard I have to work to get my degree. I don’t want him to have to do the same. Can’t he see that?’
‘Yes. I’m sure he sees it, but he’s fourteen. You can’t control everything he does. He just…’
‘I’m not trying to control him. Just showing him how hard…’
‘Yes Grant, you are. You might not see it that way but he does.’
‘So you think I’m too hard on him. What you suggest I do, just let him do what he like, don’t go to school and end up with nothing?’
I touch his arm lightly, as I would any parent who feels I’m challenging their desire to do the right thing for their child.
‘No Grant, of course you have to do something, and I admire you for caring so much about Darron, but listen to me. You can’t just ground him without telling him when it’s going to end. Till his exams are over is a long time. He’s been grounded for months already. If you don’t ease up soon he’ll stop respecting you and start resenting you. Is that what you want?’
‘Of course not.’
‘Then start giving him some of his privileges back, and start giving him your time, play sport with him again, take him to the beach, let him…’
‘You think that will work?’
‘Better than what you’re doing now.’
He’s quiet. I watch his profile in the dark. He’s tense, as if working out what I’ve just said. I understand this look. I’ve seen it a lot on the faces of parents who’ve had their style of discipline questioned. Parents working out how to retract and still maintain control. The ones who succeed are those able to let go of control and focus instead on maintaining authority through negotiations. Those able to reconnect with the child or adolescent in themselves , those willing to let go of the reins a little, those prepared to act more out of love and less out of fear. Which one will he be? I put my hand on his arm again.
‘Grant?’
‘OK.’ He faces me. ‘I’ll try it your way. I’ll talk to him tomorrow.’
I breathe out, realising only then I’ve been holding my breath. He takes my hand in both of his, brings it to his lips and kisses my palm.
‘Thank you,’ he says quietly. ‘I appreciate it.’ He kisses my hand again, my arm, shoulder neck and finally my lips. He senses my hesitation.
‘What’s up babes?’
‘Nothing. Just…’
‘Just what?’
‘I don’t know. It just doesn’t feel right. You know.’
‘No I don’t know. I wanted to be with you so much tonight. The only way I could see to do that was to invite you home. Babes it feels right to me. I feel so comfortable with you.’
He tries to nuzzle my neck. I freeze. He pulls back into his seat.
‘I’m sorry,’ I say putting my hand on his thigh. I don’t know how to tell him that it feels wrong because I’ve just worked with him as a client and my professional discipline won’t allow me to cross the threshold into sex with the father, having left the mother and son at home.
‘It’s not every day I have dinner with someone’s girlfriend then minutes later make love to them.’
He doesn’t answer.
‘Grant. I just need some space to process what just happened. Do you understand?’
We sit in silence for a while before he asks flatly, ‘Do you want to go home?’
‘Yes.’ I move my hand from his thigh. There’s no point prolonging this. We drive back in silence. He makes no attempt to kiss me when we get to Celia’s.
‘Thanks for an interesting night,’ I say as I close the door and think – he sulks, just like Richard.
Grant
The house in darkness, Mel and Darron gone to bed. Darron’s on a school trip tomorrow but it’s barely eleven o’clock and Mel in bed already. After I drop Josi off I drive round a bit to calm myself down, trying to clear my head and get some relief for my cock. I don’t understand the woman. She say she going to give it to me so what the hell she waiting for. Is she just a fucking cock tease? I was sure we would do it tonight, so sure I bring her home. I never do that before. I was taking a big risk. Mel might have worked out what was going on between us, which could have blown everything, but I trusted Josi could handle herself. She so much more mature than Mel, so sure of herself.
I love the way she talk about the places she’s been to; Canada, Egypt, Italy and a whole lot of other places in Europe, some I can’t even pronounce. She so sexy compared to Mel, so experienced. She know what to do to me, how to hold my cock in her mouth and squeeze it like a boa constrictor.
On the beach when she massage my back all my muscles loose but my cock stiff. When she kiss my back, my neck, the back of my head her lips barely touch my skin like a hot tickle. I wanted to take her right there. Now all of that filling my head and I can’t sleep. Every muscle in my body tight, I have to do something or I’m going to explode.
I lay down beside Mel, curl myself round her back, my cock pressing in the space between her butt cheeks.
‘Hey babes, you want to give me some?’ I whisper.
She don’t answer. I put my hand over her arm and cup her small breast. She try to shrug me off.
‘Come on Babes. Just a quickie.’
‘I’m tired,’ she mumble.
‘Just a quickie. Just a quick one. Pleeease.’
‘I’m tired,’ she mumble again and pull her knees up to her chest. ‘I have work tomorrow.’
I try a little longer but I know when she in this mood she don’t budge.
I go and get some water from the kitchen and turn on the TV. Just one chat show after the other. God I want her. How could she just leave me like that? I check my phone. Maybe she change her mind, maybe she want me too. No message, no missed calls. I check my email and Facebook. Maybe one of my old girlfriends send me a message. It won’t make my hard on go away but it would cheer me up. Nothing. I find a blue movie site. I don’t even want to watch the story, just want them to get to the fucking. I try doing with my hand what she did with her mouth. I can’t focus on the screen. Keep seeing her head moving up and down over my crotch, feel her wet mouth slithering over my cock, feel her tongue making circles,
but instead of coming I get harder. Fuck her. She messing with my head. If I’m going to get any sleep tonight I have to take a cold shower. I’m angry as hell. Two women and I can’t a get a fuck out of any of them.
Josi promise to have sex with me. What she waiting for? I know what she waiting for but I’m not in a position to hire a hotel and I don’t want her to know how broke I am. She don’t do car sex, say she did it once and got injured, say she don’t want people passing to hear her. She didn’t seem too fussy the other day.
The shower bring a little relief. I lay in bed thinking about where I can take her that have a bed. Maybe one of my friend’s place. No, I would have too much explaining to do. I feel myself getting hard again. If I want to fuck her on a bed I have to do it here. I look at Mel. It’s a risk, but I have to take it.
Josi
Celia’s asleep when I get in. She has a heavy day tomorrow, a lot of viewings and two new properties to sign up. She may be getting back late tomorrow. It’s not fair to try and talk to her about this in the morning before she goes. She’ll have enough on her plate. I turn on the TV with the volume down. There are only chat shows.
I’ve seen a different side to Grant tonight. He’s no fly-by-night-find-a-tourist-for-a-quick-screw type. He’s raised a son, has a good home, cares about family. Now I’ve met Melissa I’m prepared to believe theirs isn’t a deep, meaningful relationship. I won’t feel like I’m breaking up a marriage if I sleep with him. He wants me with a passion I’ve not experienced since Curtis – and who knows when, if ever, I’ll experience that again. The next time the situation’s right I’ll give in to him. I want to experience him – even if it’s just once. I’m not expecting any long term commitment on either side but I’ll at least satisfy this ache. Maybe we can go to a hotel. I don’t feel right bringing him here.
Richard’s name flashes on my phone. It’s on silent so I let it flash a few times before answering.
‘Hello.’
He’s thinking about me, can’t sleep, hopes he didn’t wake me up. He knows it’s nearly midnight but figured I’d still be awake or have my phone on silent. He’s missing me. Am I having a good time? What did I do today? I must be getting a good rest spending all that time on the beach. Things are ticking over OK, no major incidents. He’s missing me, and not just the distance. Can I see a way back for us?