Private Lessons

by Dara Girard

  Dylan looked at the book then her, confused. “What’s wrong?”

  “Doesn’t it embarrass you?”

  “What?”

  “Shouldn’t your girlfriend be making you something impressive like Swedish crepes or tiramisu?”

  He wrapped his arms around her. “I don’t care what my girlfriend makes, as long as she makes it just for me.”

  “I’m ashamed though. I almost felt as if your sister knew.”

  “She didn’t know. Nobody does and you can read. You’re not who you were four months ago. And in time you’ll be even better than now. But you have to start where you are. You wanted to read a recipe.” He held the book out to her. “Here is your chance.”

  Jodi wiped away a tear of frustration and disappointment. If he didn’t mind, why should she? And he’d taken the time to buy the book for her; it wasn’t kind to reject it. “Okay, can I come over next weekend and cook you something?”

  He nodded, placing a light kiss on her shoulder. “I’ll be waiting.”

  24

  He wished he’d bought her a cookbook sooner.

  Dylan watched Jodi as she stood at his kitchen counter chopping vegetables, thinking of everything but food. She wore shorts and a fitted top but it was her stockings that caught his attention. They seemed to shimmer in the light, accenting her thighs, the shape of her calves.

  “You don’t have to watch me,” she said.

  “Yes, I do,” Dylan said, resting his chin in his hand. “I’m supervising.”

  She tossed him a look over her shoulder. “You’re just staring. I can feel it.”

  “I can’t help it.”

  “It’s making me nervous. Go.”

  “But—”

  Jodi pointed to the door with her knife. “Go.”

  Dylan sighed and stood. “Come on, Gus.”

  “The dog can stay.”

  “That isn’t fair,” he said, wounded.

  “He can keep me company.”

  “I’ll keep you company.”

  “You’re a distraction. Go.”

  He pointed at the dog. “Don’t look so smug. I get to sleep with her.”

  Jodi picked up a red bell pepper slice and threw it at him. Dylan ducked and laughed while Gus snatched up the food. She more than made up for his dismissal from the kitchen when she presented him with a bubbling hot primavera skillet pizza. Dylan took a slice, the mozzarella cheese pulling as he did so. He took a bite then nodded.

  “Delicious, what are you going to make me next?”

  “I just made you this.”

  “I like looking to the future.”

  She got the cookbook and placed it next to him. “You choose.”

  He randomly opened it and pointed. “This.”

  Jodi saw what he had pointed to and sighed. “You would choose the one recipe with a lot of ingredients.”

  He winked. “Then we’ll have to go shopping.”

  She hadn’t thought shopping with him would be fun, but it was. She was used to shopping alone; having to think about her parents’ needs and how to stretch the budget, but with him she had no such concerns. Whatever she needed he tossed in the cart and it was nice to travel down the aisle with someone special by her side.

  He also made their outing part of her reading lesson, pointing to signs and asking her to read them to him, gently correcting her when she got them wrong.

  He picked up cans and boxes and pointed out words. Soon her confidence increased and she didn’t care about making mistakes, looking for words every chance she got and she soon surpassed his weekly reading goals for her. On his fridge he used magnetic letters to spell out new words for her to read.

  Finally, Jodi brought her cookbooks over to his place and, at first, started reading recipes to the dogs, who liked to lie at her feet while Dylan was out on one of his evening jogs. She soon progressed to reading them short stories.

  Over the next several weeks she was at his place every weekend, so often that he gave her an extra set of keys. Jodi kept herself busy shopping and preparing a different meal and she became more confident with both her reading skills and cooking, advancing from the children’s book to her adult versions.

  She prepared a meal for his brother Josh and mother Adelaide, who seemed to blossom under Jodi’s attention. She introduced him to her parents over a meal of stuffed peppers her mother wasn’t overly enthusiastic about, but Dylan and her father asked for seconds.

  Fortunately, both her parents liked him immediately. “It’s a shame Shelley couldn’t be here too,” her father said.

  Jodi continued eating not knowing what to say. She’d made the invitation but her sister had refused and she still remembered her disappointment.

  “I’m seeing someone,” she’d told her over the phone, “and I’d love you to meet him.”

  “Great,” Shelley said. “When?”

  “I’m having him over for dinner.”

  She paused then said, “I’m not eating with them.”

  “Shelley, please.”

  “No, Mom always makes a fuss. I can’t take it.”

  “Just for a couple of hours. I’m not going to host him in the basement, but in the main house. Remember that large table in the dining room? I’m going to—”

  “You can have him come over here.”

  “They’re not monsters you know.” When her sister didn’t reply, she continued. “I want you to meet, Dylan. The invitation’s open when you’re ready.”

  “Thanks,” Shelley said before she disconnected.

  The sound of the dead connection still rung in her ears as Jodi’s parents gushed over Shelley’s accomplishments.

  “Her wedding was so beautiful,” her mother said.

  “She’s our other daughter,” her father added.

  “The smart one.”

  “Both of our daughters are smart,” her father said.

  “Yes,” her mother agreed. “In their own way, but our Shelley is super smart.”

  “Our Jodi is the pretty one.”

  “Like me,” her mother said with a giggle.

  Her father kissed her. “Exactly.”

  “I like everything about Jodi,” Dylan said. “I couldn’t pick just one thing.”

  After dessert—strawberries and cream—Jodi took him on a tour of the house. She watched him as he looked around at the pictures on the walls in the tidy family room, the vivid blues of the furniture contrasted with the seashell white on the walls. He frowned. “Where are pictures of you?”

  “Me?”

  “Yes, funny little baby pictures of you as a skinny kid.”

  “I was never a skinny kid.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “I don’t have any.” She pointed to a picture of her parents with Shelley at Shelley’s high school graduation. She looked miserable but her parents beamed. “I took most of these pictures. It was a hard time back then, but I still wanted to save memories.”

  He nodded.

  “I don’t regret it. I’m really happy for my sister.”

  “I’d like to meet her.”

  Jodi turned to him and smiled relieved. “And she’d love to meet you too and…what’s that look for?”

  “I’m trying to picture you as a kid. You must have been adorable.”

  She fluttered her eyes. “Naturally.”

  “And lonely.”

  Her face fell. “Why would you say that?”

  He shrugged. “Just a feeling.”

  “I had my parents and my sister.”

  “And I had a grandmother, mother and two siblings and I felt lonely all the time.” His gaze held hers. “Until I met you.” He gathered her into his arms, enveloping her in a feeling of home.

  “I feel the same,” she said with a smile, feeling safe in his embrace. “ I can’t wait for Shelley to meet you.”

  Shelley wasn’t what he’d expected. When Dylan finally got to meet her he was surprised by how similar she was to Jodi. They shared the same colo
ring and bright warm smile. For a moment he was as tongue tied as when he first met Jodi. She introduced her husband, Calvin, and elder son, Brian, who looked about six and stared at him with a look of paralyzed fear.

  Dylan was about to say something to assure the boy when he felt a hard object slam against his leg. He glanced down and saw a little boy of about four.

  “I’m a ram!” the boy said, his bright brown eyes shining up at him.

  “You know better than that,” his mother scolded him then looked at Dylan. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” Dylan said.

  Shelley looked at the boy. “Now apologize to—”

  “Big Dee,” Jodi said with a smirk.

  Dylan glared at her.

  Her smile widened.

  “Big Dee, huh?” Calvin gave him a friendly slap on the back. “The name suits you.”

  Dylan shook his head. “But it’s not—”

  “I’m sorry,” the boy said and then took his hand. “You can sit next to me Big Dee.”

  “I’ll get you for this,” Dylan told Jodi in a low voice of warning, before he allowed the child to lead him away.

  As the meal progressed Brian warmed up to Dylan and told him about his favorite show and shared the titles of his favorite books.

  “I’m really good,” he said. “I read to my brother all the time.”

  “I can read too,” Paul said.

  “No, you can’t.”

  “Can too.”

  “Not as good as me.” He looked at Dylan. “Can I read to you?” He jumped from his chair. “I’ll be right back.”

  Shelley began to call after him then Paul said, “Me too,” and raced out of the room.

  “You don’t have to listen if you don’t want to,” Shelley said.

  “I don’t mind,” Dylan said.

  Calvin shook his head. “You might regret it.”

  “He loves reading,” Jodi said. “And he’s a good teacher too.”

  Shelley looked at Dylan surprised. “You’re a teacher? I thought you were in business.”

  “I meant that he’s patient,” Jodi said with a nervous laugh. “He’s taught me that.”

  Brian and Paul came back holding their books.

  “I’m ready, Big Dee,” Brian said.

  “Me too,” Paul added.

  Brian sent his brother a look. “Rams don’t read.”

  “Do too.”

  Shelley motioned to the other room. “If you fight, Big Dee will leave.”

  Dylan raised his forefinger. “Actually Big Dee isn’t my nick—”

  “Now go and take him into the family room,” Shelley continued in a stern voice, “and remember to use your inside voice.”

  Both boys reached for him—one grabbing his hand, the other his trouser leg. “Come on, Big Dee,” they said.

  Dylan managed to send Jodi one last glare; she bit her lip to keep from laughing.

  Later she took a picture of him on the ground with the boys—Brian sitting beside him reading and Paul standing and looking over his shoulder. She sent him the photo with the caption I love reading.

  Dylan stared at the image now, which he’d saved to his cell phone, as he sat in his living room, Rosie staring at something outside the window, Merchant asleep, his right paw twitching, and Gus curled up on the seat cushion next to him. As he studied the image he realized he wanted more moments like this, but next time he wanted Jodi in the picture beside him. He no longer wanted her to be the one left out.

  He wanted to marry her; he wanted to give Brian and Paul cousins to play with. Dylan glanced around the room a little surprised by the depth of his desire. He wanted to add pictures of them on the wall. He wanted to get her away from her parents and out of that house. There was something sad and suffocating about it. She belonged with him. She fit into his life perfectly and he didn’t like only having her stay on the weekends. He wanted to wake up to her every morning and hold her hand while walking the dogs on warm summer evenings.

  He felt a renewed urgency. The tutoring sessions had ended and he’d managed to keep his relationship safe from Nikia, but that didn’t make him feel secure. The dinner with Gwen had gone bad and he knew he still had to deal with one major person. He didn’t know if Jodi would be able to handle the pressure.

  A week later, that person made her presence known.

  25

  Dylan raced through the front door, taking off his sweaty shirt after a long jog, a little surprised when his dogs didn’t come and greet him as they usually did. He called out to Jodi as he headed for the stairs, “Sorry I’m late, Honeysuckle. I just need to change and then we’ll…” His words died away when he smelled a particular scent in the air—orange blossoms.

  He followed it to the living room and found his grandmother sitting alone. He looked outside the window at the driveway and softly swore; if he’d been paying closer attention he wouldn’t have confused his grandmother’s black Lexus with Jodi’s Ford.

  “Honeysuckle?” Elena said with a sniff. “Is that one of your new dogs?”

  “Where are they?”

  “Who?”

  He began to answer her question then paused when he heard whimpering. He walked down the hall and opened the bathroom door, the three dogs bounded out with pleasure. Dylan headed for the stairs.

  “Where are you going?” she demanded.

  “I’m going to take a shower,” he said, then under his breath. “Hopefully you’ll be gone by then.”

  She came into the entryway. “I came to talk to you.”

  “You can talk to me when I’ve finished.”

  “Dylan Flynn I will not have you disrespect me.”

  He kept walking.

  “Come back down here.”

  He stopped on the landing and stared down at her. “What do you want?”

  “I want to know about the child.”

  “What child?”

  “The one you’ve been hiding.”

  Dylan wiped sweat from his forehead. “Have you gone senile?”

  “Are you going to deny the proof I found?”

  “Proof? What proof?”

  Elena turned and headed for the kitchen. He softly swore and followed. He found her in front of the island holding up a book. “Can you explain this? A cookbook for children?” She pointed to the refrigerator. “Magnetic alphabets? I even saw drawings in the other room.”

  Dylan took the cookbook from her. “It’s none of your business.”

  “It’s my business if you have a secret child.”

  “I don’t.”

  She pounded her fist on the counter. “Explain.”

  He put the cookbook back in place. “I just did. There’s no child.” He glanced at the clock hoping Jodi would continue to stay away from the house until he could get rid of his grandmother. “Are you finished?”

  “When is this ridiculous rebellion of yours going to end? It’s time to become a man.”

  His brows shot up in surprise. “You haven’t noticed?”

  “What?”

  He tapped his chest. “I am a man.”

  She frowned. “You’re wasting your talents on old dogs and tutoring idiots.”

  “They’re not idiots.”

  “It’s time you got married and returned to Flynn and claimed the position that’s rightfully yours.”

  “I think Malcolm is doing a great job and when his son and daughter are old enough—”

  Elena looked up at the ceiling in dismay. “How could my only son have produced such a weak man?” She shifted her gaze to Dylan. “I had no hope for Josh and Gwen…but you…you have such potential if you would only try.”

  Dylan adjusted his glasses. “Are you finished?”

  Elena snatched his glasses off his face and threw them across the room. “How many times have I told you how much I hate seeing you wearing these? It makes you look weak. Do you even try the strengthening exercises I’ve sent you? I’ve never had poor eye-sight and neither did your father. You must h
ave inherited it from your mother. I know you said you’re not a good candidate for surgery, but there are other doctors.”

  “I’m not getting surgery.”

  “Then wear contacts all the time. There are some you can wear to bed. Appearance matters. Have you ever seen a warrior with glasses?”

  Dylan rubbed the bridge of his nose.

  “Are you seeing someone? Does she have a child? Is that it?”

  “What do you want?”

  “I told you—”

  “Lies. You came here already knowing the answers. I’ve never had a private life with you. You know I’m seeing someone. If you haven’t heard it from my mother, Gwen would have told you, so stop wasting my time and tell me why you’re here.”

  “You promise me there’s no child?”

  He folded his arms.

  “Why are you doing this to hurt me? Why are you seeing a woman so far beneath you it doesn’t even need mentioning? A high school dropout who works for our rival, do you hate me this much?”

  Dylan glanced at the clock again. “Stay long enough and you’ll get to meet her.”

  “I don’t want to meet her.”

  “Then what do you want?”

  Elena knocked some of the magnets from the fridge, causing them to scatter on the ground. “I want to know what trouble you’re causing. I want to know if she’s expecting. Are you playing house? How deep are you in with her?”

  “There’s no child.”

  “And?”

  He shrugged. “And that’s all you need to know.”

  “Why are you with her? What hold does she have on you?”

  He shrugged again.

  “I could make her life a misery.”

  He stared at her.

  Elena looked him up and down in disgust. “Or wait for when she dumps you after she discovers how pathetic you are.” She walked away, moments later he heard the front door slam.

  Dylan rested his palms on the counter and closed his eyes. He slowly counted to ten. He would protect Jodi. This battle was between him and his grandmother; he would not let Jodi be a casualty to it. He opened his eyes but didn’t move when he heard the front door open and Jodi’s footsteps in the hall. She stopped in the kitchen entryway, holding two cloth bags. He turned to her and forced a smile.