Forgive Us Our Trespasses

by M. L. Steinbrunn

  I nod, knowing this part of the story already. The whole town heard the story; it was a very big deal. There are never robberies or pursuits in our sleepy little town, so when your husband runs after and captures the person responsible for the first town burglary in probably a hundred years, of course I heard about it.

  “A small crowd had gathered outside to see what was going on; most of them were truckers passing through town, no one local. Rob was right behind me to offer back up. He was having trouble keeping up; he has gained some weight since his wife left.” He leans in to whisper the last part, as if it is a secret that Rob has struggled since he and his wife separated. He has spent a great deal of time at our house since it happened, and when the final divorce papers were delivered a few months ago, he completely fell off the wagon, eating anything he could get his hands on as a way to cope. Since the pursuit though, he has been doing better. He has been going to the gym with Will; he’s lost the weight, and he looks like the same-old, muscular, handsome Rob we are used to, so I’m unsure of what that has to do with humor of the story.

  “As soon as I have the suspect on the ground, Rob bent down to place the handcuffs on him and pull him up, so that I could get up and collect myself. But when he bent down, his pants split down the middle, and all of those truckers saw his boxers underneath. What’s worse–his boxers had the words ‘love machine’ written all over them in hot pink writing.”

  As much as I know that I shouldn’t, I burst into laughter, picturing Hot Rob–a nickname given to him by my single teacher friends–pretty much mooning half of the trucking fleet of America parked at our local truck stop. Will balls his fist and covers his mouth to hide his own smirk.

  “To make matters even worse, all of his extra uniforms were at the cleaners, so he had to sit in one of the bathroom stalls while I bought a sewing kit at the truck stop and stitched up his pants enough to get him through the day.”

  The last bit of the story, knowing how pathetic my husband’s sewing skills are, has my stomach hurting from laughing so hard. Of course his story is funnier; they always are. Will’s ability to make me laugh has always been one of the things that I loved about him. Since the moment we met, we’ve always tried to one-up each other’s funny stories; you would think that by now I would know I’m never going to win this game we play.

  I wipe the tears from my eyes and grab all of our snacks from the cooler we packed; we are parents and have jobs in public service–of course we are lunch sack people. The concession stand is not in our future. I throw him a package of Skittles and crawl back to my spot next to him. “Okay, I concede. You win like usual.” I square my shoulders and point my finger into his chest, determined to seem as serious as possible. “Just don’t get used to it; I’m determined to find a better story, Matthews, and knock you off that high horse of yours.”

  He grabs my finger and kisses the pad of it. “I’ll be ready for whatever you’d like to dish out.”

  We both snuggle down into the blankets to watch the film in relaxed silence. While the days here can be beautiful, October evenings tend to be cold, so we bundle around each other tightly. We haven’t had our first snow yet, but the chill in the air can definitely cool your bones. I settle into the crook of Will’s shoulder, and he wraps both of his strong arms around me. I can feel his breath in my hair and the rise of his chest with every laugh; it makes me feel safe. He makes me feel safe, and it’s a feeling I didn’t have for a long time. I thought men only hurt you, and Brooks proved that assumption right, but Will made it okay to love again. He pieced my wounded heart back together again, and for that I will always care for this man.

  By the time we return home, we are both exhausted. Long gone are the days of late night partying, sleeping in until noon, and afternoon power-naps. Now, if we don’t fall asleep on the couch before ten, we are having a good day. Maybe we are boring; maybe we are past the point of comfortable and into the realm of fuddy-duddy, but it works for us.

  We each finish brushing our teeth, and I’m putting on my most comfy pajamas when I feel Will come up behind me. “We have the house to ourselves; I don’t think these are going to be necessary,” he murmurs in my ear, taking my pajama shirt from my grasp and tossing it onto the hardwood floor.

  Instead of turning around, I reach my hands back to find a naked Will in my palms. His excitement rubs against my back as he walks me to our bed. The duvet has been pulled down to the foot of the bed, and when he softly pushes me down onto the mattress, the crisp coolness of the sheets sends a jolt across my chest and stomach that awakens my senses. Will leans over me, his forearms on either side of my head, and I can feel the slightest bit of his weight pressing me into the bed.

  Will works in silence as he swipes my hair away from my neck, kissing along my neck and across each shoulder blade. I can feel every kiss, every lick, and when he blows lightly on my damp skin, I shudder, and goose bumps spread across my body. “So soft…your skin is always so soft, and you smell good enough to eat.”

  He wraps his strong arm around my waist and hauls us both up to the middle of the mattress. He turns me over and covers my body with his own. I stretch out underneath him and wrap my legs around his muscular torso. Will gently leans down, letting our lips meet delicately at first, but then his kiss becomes harsh and demanding. His hands explore every inch of my skin, while his mouth devours mine. I run my fingers into his hair, slightly tugging it, and hook my ankles together just between the indentations above his ass, pulling him toward me to encourage him further.

  It took a long time for the two of us to connect sexually as a couple; the chemistry we have now wasn’t something that came naturally, but over the years, we have become very in-tune with each other’s needs. He completely understands what I’m demanding and begins to rock into me, deepening our kiss with each blow.

  As our breathing becomes more ragged, Will breaks our kiss and buries his head into my neck; his warm breath against my skin sends my desire spiraling out of control. “Almost there, Viv,” Will pants as he quickens his pace. I don’t answer with anything that resembles verbal communication. I barely manage a hyperventilated moan, signaling my impending release. Our bodies tense together, and I feel Will collapse on top of me.

  “I love you, Vivian,” Will exhales as he tries to steady his breathing, “more than anything.” I slowly open my eyes and take the sides of his face in my hands, using my thumbs to brush casually along his cheekbones. “I love you too, Will,” I say, looking into his honey-colored eyes. I think about how he has made me see that love doesn’t have to be perfect to be right. How he’s shown me that life is not about perfection; it’s about accepting the ride, and enjoying the people who want to take the trip with us. This man has helped to give me the most wonderful life. I love our life together, and it has everything to do with the imperfect love that we have together. But instead of telling him, I relax into his embrace and enjoy this man that has given me so much.

  Will rises up on his elbow and sweeps a lock of loose hair away from my face. He then leans down to kiss my forehead; it’s his way of telling me that he appreciates my declaration to him. The room is dark except for the small night lamp that is providing just enough light to see his amazingly bright smile.

  “I need to ask you something, Viv,” he says, allowing the smile to fade, and forcing a serious tone to hang in the air. I push up onto my elbows, and turn on my side to face him. “I’ve been thinking a lot lately about our life here. Well, more than that, I’ve been thinking about my job, your family, our friends in Denver…everything. I think it’s time we actually follow through on what we’ve been talking about since we moved here.”

  I immediately think this is some kind of mid-life crisis or male menopause episode, and start to feel the anxiety of what that could mean. My already flush skin begins to burn from the fear seeping into my subconscious. I’m afraid that this new life doesn’t include the family that we have made together, that he wants someone other than me. Will notices
my worry; the man can read every one of my emotions like they are his own. He pulls me to him and tucks me into his arm. “I’m talking about changing our life together. We are a team; where I go, you go, love. It will always be us.”

  I relax into him as I let his words wash over me, and I nod into his chest, showing my approval. I wiggle away to hear the rest of what he has to say. Will doesn’t let me get too far, hanging onto my hand and kissing the back of my knuckles.

  “I don’t think either of us thought that we would live here forever, but over time, we’ve become comfortable here. I know that one of the reasons you don’t want to leave is because of my job. But, Viv, the more I’ve thought about it, I’m ready to be done being a cop.”

  I sit straight up in bed when he reveals this piece of information. “What are you talking about? You love being a cop, Will; it’s who you are.”

  “No, babe, it’s not who I am; it’s what I do. You’re right that I love the job, but I love my family more.”

  “We aren’t going anywhere, Will. You can be a cop and still have a family,” I say reassuringly, as I run my fingers down his chest. One of the reasons why Rob’s wife left him was because of his job, and when it all happened, he worried that it would encourage me to leave as well. Yes, the hours are horrible; there are times when we only see each other for ten minutes in the morning when I’m leaving for school and he’s coming home from a night shift. We are rarely able to go anywhere overnight, because he typically only has one full weekend off a month. His job is not conducive to family life, and as much as I would love for him to be home more, I would not ask him to quit, and I would never leave him because of it.

  “I’m tired of what this job does to my family. I know you guys understand, and that’s what helps me get through some of those tough shifts. But I don’t want to miss out on our lives together anymore.” Will sits up and tugs at his hair, and I scratch his back to show my support. “It’s almost the end of the soccer season, and I’ve only been to two games. Tonight was the first date we’ve been on in probably three months, and then that invite for our college reunion came last week, the first thing you and I thought was it probably wouldn’t happen because I wouldn’t be able to get the time off,” he rattles off in one long rant.

  “So what are you thinking we should do?” I ask.

  “I’m ready to quit the force and find something else, maybe parole or probation work. I’ve even looked into investigative consulting firms. We’ve talked about moving back to Denver tons of times. I know you miss your friends, and you can’t tell me Jen doesn’t try to convince you to move every time you talk to her on the phone. Besides, getting away from Charlotte and your mother would be enough of an incentive.”

  “You’re really serious this time?” I ask. “We have a similar conversation every year, and we never follow through.” If Will was finally ready to take this drastic step, I would follow, but I’m done with the indecisive back and forth we’ve been doing for the last few years.

  “I’m ready, Viv,” he says confidently. “I think we should finish out the school year for you and the kids, and make the move next summer. This has been a great home for us, but I’m ready to find a more family-friendly job, and I want to have our old friends in our lives. I want us to enjoy our life again, and your family here only makes us feel bad about how we’re living it now.”

  “Okay.” I couldn’t think of any better response. If he was ready, I was ready. I knew I could find a job, and we could find plenty of smaller schools for the kids on the outskirts. Besides, I missed the girls, as well as my sister Amanda. What kept me here was Will’s job, but if he really wanted to give it up, then I was ready to leave.

  “Okay? Just like that?” he asks, not even hiding his shocked expression.

  “Yeah, if you’re ready for this change, then I’m on board. I’ll give notice at the end of the year, and we can start preparing for the move.”

  A smile lights up his face, and he lets out a huge exhale of relief. He was obviously worried what my response would be. I lean into him, kissing him briskly on the lips, and then nestle myself into his arms. “Here’s to our new city life,” I say, giving him one last peck on his chest.

  Will slides us down further onto the mattress, and rests his head on a pillow. He pulls the duvet over our now-chilled bodies, and squeezes me tightly. “Thank you for this, Vivian,” he whispers in my ear as I feel myself fade into unconsciousness. “All I ever wanted was a life with you; it never mattered where, as long as you were there.” I feel his lips against my temple as I allow the blackness of sleep to overtake me.

  Vivian

  The weekend was one of the best we have had in a long time. We enjoyed it as an entire family, which is rare for us. This morning when we left for work, there was a sense of relief radiating from both of us. We made the decision to leave, and I could feel Will’s enthusiasm for that change when he kissed me goodbye this morning; he was rattling with it.

  I’m certainly thrilled as well, but as I’ve gone from class to class today, or when I saw my kiddos in the hallway of our tiny little school going to breakfast this morning, I found myself somewhat sad about the things we would be leaving behind. I love the staff that I work with, and that there are preschoolers in the same building as high school kids. The dynamic creates a type of community that isn’t easy to replicate, and I doubt I’ll find it when we move. It’s definitely something that I’ll miss.

  “How was your weekend?” Kerri James, our social studies teacher, asks as we sit down for lunch in the teachers’ lounge.

  “It was perfect,” I tell her, pulling out my chair and quickly taking out my packed lunch. We only have a fifteen-minute break because of how our junior high and high school classes overlap. “Will was off, so we were able to go to Blake’s soccer game together, and Char watched the kids so we could go to dinner afterwards. It was nice. Sunday we just stayed home; I had a ton of grading to do since I covered all of those classes last week.” I don’t tell her about our decision to move; that’s something I plan to put off as long as possible. Kerri is one of the few people that I’ve grown close to here, and it will only make things tense for the remainder of the year. I know that she would be supportive; it’s not that, but it would create this lingering cloud I’d like to avoid for a while.

  “I hear ya; it always kills my weekend when I pick up a class. So, was Hot Rob involved in your weekend?” she asks, scooting her school lunch tray towards herself, and tossing her salad with her fork. I roll my eyes at the question. Kerri is one of the few single, attractive teachers at the school. She’s tall, with bright blue eyes and long curly blonde hair, with the sweetest, most caring personality to match. How she’s still single is beyond me. This town is not exactly the best place for single people; the sea full of fish that we all hear about is more like a dry creek bed of minnows. It’s a great place for raising children, but it’s horrible if you’re looking for love.

  It’s no secret that she is infatuated with Rob. And if she actually went after him, instead of carrying on her passive aggressive high school approach towards him, they might actually hit it off. Kerri has always had a crush on him, even if she won’t entirely admit it, and I know that when Rob found himself back on the market, she thought she won the lottery. Has she cashed in the ticket though? Hell no. Will she ever act on her own? Probably not. She’ll just secretly hate every woman that he dates. If I thought Rob was ready, I would set them up, but right now I think it would be a train wreck in the making. He’s still so damaged from the divorce, and now I’ll be moving.

  “No, we didn’t see him, surprisingly.” I laugh before tearing into my sandwich. “How about you; anything wild and crazy you need to share?”

  She nearly chokes on her chocolate milk. “Have you forgotten where you live? The most exciting part of my weekend is usually the school football game, or an 80’s chick flick marathon on TBS. I don’t lead an overly-stimulating life; I haven’t been on a date in over a year.”
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  “Oh, come on; it’s not that bad,” I tell her, knowing full well that her dating life probably is as sad as the picture she’s painting.

  She drops her fork and tilts her head, looking at me like I’m insane. “I have an Adam and Eve rewards card, and when I call into the 1-800 number, the sales women know me by name. Which is not all that bad when you’re placing an order to surprise your man, but mine are all for individual use.”

  “Okay,” I giggle. “I’ll help you find someone, at least to help you unpack your toy box.”

  “Hey, if you have connections with Hot Rob, he can pack and unpack whatever he’d like at my house.”

  “I don’t think he’s ready to date just yet, but when he is, I’ll be sure to put you on the short list,” I tell her, placing my leftovers back into my lunch sack.

  “Short list!” she exclaims, glaring at me. “I better be the only woman on that list.” We both laugh, but then she looks down at her watch and takes one last bite of her lunch. “We have to get going; the minions will be in my room any minute.”

  We push back from our chairs and head towards her classroom. Kerri and I try to combine English and social studies assignments as much as possible. Right now, we are in the middle of presentations with the eighth graders in a team teaching assignment. The students had to research the Virginia, New Jersey, and Connecticut plans, create a poster supporting one of the plans, and then present it to the class.

  There is already a crowd of students waiting for us when we make it to her door. We squeeze through to unlock the door and the wave of sweaty 14-year-olds barrel through to grab their posters and find a seat. As soon as everyone is seated, Kerri addresses the class, reminding them of our expectations.

  “You guys have done an excellent job on your projects so far; there are only a few people left that need to present. We should be finished with all the presentations today. Remember, Mrs. Matthews is grading your presentation skills and the arguments that you address within your poster, and I’ll be grading the accuracy of the historical information that you share. Everyone, let’s be good listeners. Now, is there anyone that would like to go first?”