When September Ends

by ANDREA SMITH

  “I’ll text her back and let her know. Dad—why is September mad at you?”

  I stop what I’m doing and take a sip of my coffee. I’m living on caffeine these days instead of beer. It’s more productive. “Honey, she’s not mad at me as much as she’s disappointed in me.”

  “Why?” she persists.

  Fuck.

  What do I tell her?

  How about the truth?

  “Scout, hun, sit down for a minute. Maybe it’s time you knew the truth.”

  She nods and takes a seat at the table. I clasp my hands together, flexing them, trying to articulate how I break this to her so that it doesn’t sound…tacky…or worse, perverse.

  I clear my throat. “You see September is a woman, Scout. She’s an adult by all standards and, well, having her here with us…” I pause, searching for an acceptable explanation, “Well, she and I started having a mutual affection for one another—different than the affection and love that I have for you, does that make sense?”

  “You two were in love,” she comments, “I knew that. What I want to know is why she left. Did you two stop being in love, like with Mama?”

  I feel my jaw drop as my eyes widen. “Uh, what do you mean, you knew?”

  She shrugs, and gives an eye roll. “I don’t know, I could just tell. You both looked at each other the same way that Amber’s mom and dad look at each other, all googly eyed.”

  Googly-eyed is not a term I’m familiar with, but I get the drift. I can’t hold back a slight smile, but then I quickly get back to my serious tone. “Wait—why didn’t you ever say anything to us about it?” I ask her.

  “Because,” she replies, drawing the word out longer than necessary, “It wasn’t my business. So did you?”

  “Did I what?”

  “Did you stop loving September like you did with Mama?”

  Okay, now my daughter needs a refresher course in this shit. I take a deep breath because I don’t want it to sound mean.

  “Scout, first off, I didn’t stop loving your mama—well I did, but that was long after she stopped loving me, you understand?”

  She nods.

  “So, in answer to your question about me and September, I can only speak on my behalf, and the answer is no, I haven’t stopped loving her.”

  “Okay, so I guess that means she stopped loving you…”

  I tense up. “Maybe so but, hey, listen it’s your bed time baby girl. Gimme a kiss and then scoot off to bed.”

  She kisses me, and I can tell she has more questions to ask, but there’s no way I can answer them without showing just how torn up I am inside, and how responsible I am for September’s departure.

  But she’s coming by tomorrow. Maybe this will provide one more chance for me to make my case with her.

  Chapter 10

  I get off the phone with Scout, and look over to where Brandon is sprawled all over the loveseat in my cramped living room, watching something on the tube.

  Yeah, I have shared everything about Jesse and me, and our previous relationship with Brandon. I really had no choice. He actually witnessed the mini-meltdown I’d had that evening after Jesse dropped me back at my apartment. Brandon had come in just minutes later, banging on my door to see if I was okay. One look at my reddened eyes and blotchy face had said it all. He wasn’t buying my “I’ll be fine,” excuses, and I finally broke.

  I barely knew the guy and there I was, pouring my tears and the fragments of my heart out all over the place. I didn’t care. I needed to have it out there, even if it meant that he found me repulsive and nasty.

  But he hadn’t.

  He had comforted me as much as a twenty-year-old college jock that barely knew his overly emotional new neighbor could offer.

  “I bet you’re wishing the chicks with the purple hair and black lipstick still lived here,” I had sobbed, taking the roll of toilet paper he had offered me, and tearing off a length in order to wipe my eyes.

  “Not even close,” he had replied, with a grin, “Hey, I’m not judging you, September. Believe it or not, I understand how these things work.”

  “You do?” I asked with a sniffle.

  “Yep. I’ve had one or two questionable liaisons, myself.”

  “Liaisons,” I repeated, “You mean like hook-ups?”

  “No, silly. I mean like relationships.”

  “You’re only twenty,” I had pointed out.

  “Almost twenty-one, and hey, you’re only nineteen.”

  “Yeah, but well…I mean, guys, generally, well you know—”

  “Here it comes,” he had said, rolling his eyes, and grinning, “You’re going to get all judgy on me like all the other girls, right?”

  I had blushed, because he had called me out. That was exactly what I was starting to do. “Sorry,” I apologized. “Want to talk about it?”

  He had then shared with me that he had been involved for nearly a year with his best friend’s older sister when he was seventeen.

  “How much older?” I had asked.

  “Kind of nosy, aren’t you?”

  “I’m betting the age difference wasn’t all that significant.”

  “No, she was nineteen when we got involved, and twenty when we split.”

  “Why did you split?”

  “She was in college then and I guess she wanted her freedom, sexually and socially.”

  “How about you?”

  He had given me a crooked grin. “Oh, well—I didn’t grieve too long, I guess. Her mother was extremely sympathetic when I saw her at the mall where I worked that summer.

  It had been my turn to quirk a brow. “Why do I think there’s more to that statement?”

  He had laughed softly and it had a sexy edge to it. His cheeks had even flushed a bit before he replied. “Yeah, that was the summer of ‘cougar love.’”

  “O-M-G, seriously? You fucked your ex’s mom?”

  “Yep—and my best buddy’s mom, don’t forget.”

  “Eww, Brandon,” I had replied, a shiver going through me, “That’s kind of…”

  “What? Getting judgy again? Hey, she was hot…a real MILF.”

  “Okay, but what about her husband?”

  “No husband. They were divorced. She was forty-two and, let me tell you, that lady had some moves. She could fuck better than her daughter.”

  “Okay,” I had said, “You’ve crossed over into the TMI arena now. I’m cheered up. You can go.”

  He had laughed as his hand shot out and ruffled my hair playfully. “See? I bet you didn’t think anything could top your dark little secret did you?”

  And he had been right about that.

  Since that time, we had developed a friendship—more of a brother/sister thing than anything else. Brandon was a certified man whore, and even at my young and unworldly way I could tell that much.

  He broke the silence since I’d ended my phone call with Scout.

  “So, what’s up?” he asks from the sofa.

  “Oh, um, I’m stopping by to see Scout Saturday afternoon.

  “Bootie call,” he chides with a laugh.

  “I’m going there to see Scout, no one else.”

  “Yeah, right,” he replies, jumping up from the sofa. “Let me know how that works out for you. I’ve gotta bounce.”

  “Who’s your pocket pussy tonight?” I tease.

  “Taking the evening off, got frat business.”

  “You’re in a fraternity?”

  “Not yet, but I’m pledging. Keep your fingers crossed.”

  “Why would you want to be a frat boy?”

  He looked at me as if I have sprouted another head.

  “Seriously?”

  I nod.

  “Well, for one thing, the best parties on campus.”

  “Oh please.”

  “And secondly, the best available sorority pussy around.”

  “See ya later, Brandon,” I reply, giving him a playful smack on the back.

  Once he’s gone, I contemplat
e about the following day. I’m excited to see Scout again. Talk to her; and find out how she likes fifth grade and hear all about her teacher and friends. But I am filled with anxiety about seeing Jesse. It’s been nearly a month since that day in his truck when I told him it was over. Words that had come from me with a finality that he hadn’t questioned, but that I had seriously questioned in my own mind.

  Had I really meant it?

  I thought so, at the time anyway. But now I felt gutted by those words. They rang hollow in my mind, and maybe that was because Jesse had done exactly what I had asked. He had gone, and had left me alone since that time.

  Time that has been filled with classes, homework and hanging out with Brandon between his soccer games and random hook-ups, and my part-time job that has become somewhat draining what with the late shifts and the early morning classes.

  I go to the bathroom and start my shower. I have an hour and a half before my shift at Rudy’s, so hopefully I can cram for tomorrow’s Statistics exam before I leave.

  Life has certainly become more complex.

  Chapter 11

  Scout is acting like it’s Christmas Eve and it’s only mid-October. She’s been going back and forth from her room to the living room every five minutes for the past hour, checking to see if September’s car is in the driveway.

  “What time did she tell you she’d be here?” I ask.

  “Sometime after lunch,” she says, “And it’s already one o’clock.”

  I start to say something, but her loud shriek interrupts me. “She’s here!”

  And Scout’s out the front door like a rocket, running up to September’s car that she’s pulled to the front curb instead of into the driveway. Just one more affirmation that she doesn’t consider this to be her home any longer.

  I watch as she gets out of the car, and Scout is right there, wrapping her ten-year-old arms around her. My breath hitches as I take in every inch of her as if I’ve forgotten any of it.

  Because I haven’t.

  I never could, even if I wanted to, which I don’t.

  She’s beautiful in every way. Her long, blonde hair is pulled up into a bouncy ponytail. Her tight jeans cling perfectly to her slender hips and perky ass.

  My cock twitches as I recall how she looks without a stitch of clothing covering her body. The smooth, creamy skin that is unblemished and soft and perfect to the touch everywhere.

  I turn away and head to my room. She’s here for Scout. I don’t intend to be an interloper on their ‘sister time’ as Scout calls it. Though Scout didn’t come out and say I wasn’t welcome, the implication was there.

  An hour later, there is a tap on my door. “Dad? Are you gonna come out and say hi to September?”

  Fuck.

  I don’t answer immediately, which prompts Scout to open the door and poke her head in, eyeing me as I’m stretched out across my bed, watching The Weather Channel.

  Lame, I know.

  “Dad, did you hear me? September is here, and, like you’re kind of being rude by staying in here.”

  Can’t have that now can we?

  I force a smile, acting as if I’ve been totally absorbed by the compelling weather report being given for the Pacific Northwest. “Oh, yeah, honey—I’ll be right out, okay?”

  She nods, and I’m thinking she did a slight eye roll before closing the door softly.

  I get up from the bed and take a quick look in the mirror, running a hand through my mass of hair that is probably in need of a trim as it is now hitting the top of the collar on the oxford shirt I decided to wear today.

  Yeah, I know, tee shirts are my thing but the weather is getting chillier and I wanted something to put over my tee. Sue me.

  I saunter out of my room, trying like hell to pass off an air of ambivalence, or maybe even indifference, neither of which are emotions I’m actually feeling at the moment.

  Hell if I don’t feel like that pimply-faced teenager again, instead of the adult male that I am. What the hell has she done to me?

  Fuck that. What the hell have I done to myself?

  She and Scout are in the living room on the sofa, and I can see that Scout has been showing her some of her recent creations in Art class, which is, by far, her favorite subject.

  Her class has been working on decoupage projects and Scout created a Halloween version of a cross between Dracula and someone called ‘Slender Man’ for whom I’m clueless about. Some current cult legend from what she’s shared with me, and sounds rather ominous.

  “Hey September,” I greet and immediately grimace inside at how my voice came out like a hoarse, nearly squeaky whisper.

  Fuck me.

  “Hi Jesse,” she says, giving me a shy smile, “I am just loving Scout’s creation here. She’s got some raw talent it seems.”

  Her voice is like a fucking aphrodisiac to my senses, and, of course, my dick is trying to spring to life as a result.

  Down boy.

  “Uh huh,” I mumble turning towards the kitchen so I can grab some liquid courage, and hide my semi. Shit, what the hell? “Can I get you girls something?” I call back as I open the door to the fridge, grabbing a cold Bud.

  “Iced tea would be nice,” September calls out, “Unless you don’t have any made.”

  As luck would have it, we did. “Coming right up.”

  So, this is pretty much how the next hour went with me chugging a couple of beers while trying my damndest to make small talk with her when what I really wanted to do was send Scout over to Amber’s for the afternoon and fuck September senseless to make up for all the time we’ve lost since the last time. And then, after we’ve fucked, I want to make love to her, mark her as mine because she’s forgotten, and make things the way they should be between us right now.

  Not like this.

  Stumbling over words. Chunks of uncomfortable silence hanging in the air between us.

  “Oh shoot!” Scout breaks one of those chunks of silence right now. “I left my Creature from the Black Lagoon over at Catherine’s. I really want you to see it, September.”

  “Well…I don’t think Casey would appreciate my tagging along,” September says, and her cheeks flush slightly.

  “No, I’ll go over there and get it.”

  “Really, Scout, there’s no need. I can see it the next time I stop by, okay?”

  My daughter is not to be deterred and it dawns on me that she may just have an ulterior motive for wanting to exit the house for a few minutes.

  Feminine wiles. My daughter possesses them it would appear.

  Scout is out the door and September rubs the palms of her hands back and forth across her denim clad thighs. She clears her throat as it’s clear my gaze is making her uncomfortable. I don’t give a shit. I can stare if I want to, right?

  “She knows about us,” I deadpan.

  I watch as her brown eyes widen and darken simultaneously. “Wh-what do you mean?”

  I give her a wry grin, “She told me as much fairly recently. She was very matter of fact about it. Said she could tell by the way we acted around one another that we were in love.”

  September shakes her head slowly, “I-I don’t know what to say. I mean, she’s never said a word about it to me; she’s never asked questions or hinted around about it, or anything.”

  “It’s because she didn’t see anything wrong with it is my guess. When I asked her why she hadn’t mentioned it before she said she figured it was none of her business.”

  I get up from my chair and walk to the sofa, sitting down next to her. My body reacts to her nearness; her scent, and I need to touch her, but the possibility of rejection is one I’m not sure I can deal with at the moment. “Baby,” I say softly, “I realize now how fucking clueless I was about this thing between us. I mean, Christ, for all the reluctance and hesitation I displayed, I totally get why you left. Things are different now.”

  She arches her brow and meets my gaze. “Are they, Jesse? How are they different?”

  I place
my hand under her chin and tilt her face upward, studying her closely, “Because we don’t have to hide our love anymore, September. I know you still love me, tell me I’m wrong.”

  I wait. The silence is deafening, but the fact that she hasn’t answered yet fills me with hope.

  “Well?”

  She shifts, pulling back a bit, but my arm is wrapped around her shoulder, so she’s not going far.

  “It’s complicated, Jesse.”

  “It doesn’t have to be, baby.” I take this opportunity to brush my mouth against her lips slowly and softly, breathing in her scent; closing my eyes and savoring it.

  And then I feel her lips pressing against mine, her body relaxes against me, and I pull her back in closer, my mouth now possessing hers, our tongues teasing one another in a rhythm that is familiar and almost bittersweet because it’s been too damn long.

  “Mmm, Jesse,” she breathes against me, molding herself against me. “I need a little more time. I’ve got to think this through, do you understand?”

  My lips are now peppering her cheek and jawline with butterfly kisses. “I do, babe. I totally get it. Take whatever time you need, just as long as you come back to us.”

  We pull apart when we hear the sound of the back door opening, and I once again take my place in the chair I had been sitting in before Scout left. September quickly smoothes her shirt and crosses her legs as Scout comes in with her decoupage masterpiece that has been glued to a sheet of Plexiglass for display.

  “I got an ‘A’ on this one,” she proudly announces as she places it on the coffee table in front of September.

  “Wow,” September exclaims, “That is impressive, Scout. I think you’ve found your calling.”

  My daughter beams under the praise. I look between them, and notice the flush of excitement has not left September’s face, as she gazes past Scout, and her eyes meet mine. I can feel the warmth of her love because her eyes are and have always been the window to her soul.

  “Do you wanna stay and eat with us?” Scout asks, “Dad and I are ordering pizza tonight. We do that on Saturdays now.”

  “Sure,” September replies with a smile. “Sounds good to me.”

  I leave them for a bit, having to finish up some payroll for the shop and get some tools on order. I’ve got a laptop of my own now and have set it up in September’s old room, which I use as a home office of sorts.