Following Grandpa Jess

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Following Grandpa Jess Page 8

by TJ Baer


  I risked meeting his eyes and found him looking a strange mixture of stunned and slightly angry.

  “Do you think I’m ashamed of you or something?” he asked.

  “I think you have no idea what you’re getting yourself into. I don’t think you’ve thought this through, and I don’t think you really want to be with me so much as you want to be with someone. I think that in a week or a month you’re going to realize that this was all a stupid mistake, and—”

  And you’ll go back to her, or back to someone like her, and where the hell will that leave me?

  Man, why did these things always lead to such angst? Yet another reason to go find a monastery somewhere and join up. Cool robes, nifty incense, and no freaking angst.

  “Listen,” I said more quietly, and let my eyes drop away from his so I wouldn’t have to see the look on his face, “if you want, we can just go back to the way things were, pretend that yesterday never happened. Hell, we can blame the saké if you want, or—”

  But suddenly he was standing right in front of me, his hands going tight around my arms with enough force to send me staggering back a step.

  “Stop it,” David said, and for all that his voice was barely loud enough to be audible, the look of absolute fury on his face made my mouth go dry. “Stop saying things like that. You have no idea…”

  He closed his eyes, and a flood of words spilled out as if he couldn’t hold them in anymore. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve been struggling with this? At first, I thought it was just some weird rebound from Jen and I tried to ignore it, but I couldn’t. I was always thinking about you, and…and dreaming about you, and wondering what it would be like to… This isn’t an experiment,” he said with sudden force, his eyes blazing open again. “This isn’t me messing around and trying out new things. This is real. I don’t know why it happened, and I don’t know where it’ll lead, but it’s real, and don’t you dare try to tell me that it’s not.”

  I stared at him, my mind a blank white wall of shock. “What?” I managed at last.

  Some of the fury drained away then, and he sagged a bit where he stood. “Jess, did you seriously not notice?”

  “Notice what?”

  The grip on my arms became gentler, more caress than restraint. “I stare at you,” he said softly. “All the time. I can’t seem to help myself. If you’re in the room, I just can’t help looking at you. I thought you knew.”

  I shook my head, a few brain cells returning from their brief holiday. “But…Jen.”

  David winced, but the look faded after a second, and he shook his head. “I don’t deny that I loved her.” He took a breath. “But I don’t now.”

  I almost gave in then—I almost said to hell with it and threw myself into his arms. But something stopped me, and words I didn’t really want to say came spilling out. “I guess this is so hard for me because I saw how you were with her. I know how much you—” I choked on the word a little, but finally managed to get it out. “I know how much you loved her, and it’s hard for me to imagine that feelings that strong could just suddenly change.”

  I forced myself to look him in the eye. “If she came back,” I said. “If she came back today and said, ‘Hey, let’s get back together,’ what would you do?”

  David flinched and looked away. “That’s not really fair.”

  “I know.”

  His gaze stayed abstracted for a few seconds, then he shook his head. “I guess I don’t know what I’d do. I’d be tempted, probably, but her coming back wouldn’t change the fact that she left. It wouldn’t change everything that happened. It wouldn’t change how I feel about you.”

  He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Jess, I can’t make any promises. Not about anything. I don’t know if this’ll work, or if it’ll last, or if we’ll get tired of each other after two weeks or two years or never. All I know is that right now, right now, I love you and I want to be with you. But if that’s not enough for you, then—”

  “Wait,” I cut in, feeling like I’d been sucker-punched. “Wait wait wait wait. What did you say?”

  He froze, a look somewhere in the neighborhood of shocked realization settling onto his face. “I… I did say that, didn’t I?”

  I nodded, wide-eyed. “You did. Did you mean it?”

  He was silent for a moment, and then a lopsided grin twisted his mouth. “I guess I did.” He ducked his head and gave an embarrassed laugh. “Granted, I’d rather I hadn’t just blurted it out like that, and I feel like I’ve lost a lot of cool points here, but yeah. I did mean it. I do mean it.”

  I blinked at him, trying to get a grip on this development and not quite managing it. “Huh,” I said. “You love me. Interesting.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Huh.”

  “Well,” he said with a raise of his eyebrows, “what do we do now?”

  I wrapped my arms around his neck and leaned in until our mouths were close, so close, but not touching. “I have a few ideas,” I murmured, and kissed him.

  *

  I ended up spending the last precious few minutes of my lunch hour poised in front of the men’s room mirror, straightening my clothes and picking twigs and bits of leaves out of my hair.

  This time I was well aware of myself humming, though the tune had shifted from the Annie medley to a spirited rendition of “Oh, What a Beautiful Morning.” Naturally, the restroom door opened right in the middle of my performance, and I broke off with a silly smile...to find the school principal, Karen Walsh, standing in the doorway with one slender eyebrow raised.

  The dopey smile oozed off my face. “Err, this is the men’s room, isn’t it?”

  “It is,” she confirmed, a touch of a smile on her lips. “Could I have a word?”

  Uh-oh. Despite the fact that Karen and I were actually on pretty good terms and she tended to have a good sense of humor about all kinds of school mishaps, it was hard not to feel guilty when I’d just been locked in the embrace of a fellow teacher ten minutes before. Not that there was any way this visit could be about that, but...

  I swallowed hard and followed her out of the restroom and into the music room, where she lowered herself gracefully into my chair, leaving me standing in front of the desk like a misbehaving student.

  “So,” she said after a moment’s pause, and I couldn’t help noticing that her gaze flickered up to my messy, leaf-strewn hair as she spoke. “It would seem that you and Mr. Keagan had a bit of a field trip today over lunch.”

  My mouth dropped open, and I knew with deep certainty that I was about to be fired. Or killed. Or maybe both in quick succession.

  “Um,” I said intelligently.

  “Don’t worry, I’m not going to fire you,” she said with a wry smile. “I’d have to have been an idiot not to have seen this coming. Frankly, I’m relieved. I was rather afraid this would all end in some badly hidden tryst in one of the classrooms, and then I’d have parental pressure to sack the both of you. Which I wouldn’t do, of course, but it would’ve been quite a bother to deal with.”

  My jaw muscles didn’t seem capable of closing my mouth at that point, so I let it hang open as she continued.

  “As it is, now all I have to do is issue you a warning in regards to pursuing any type of romantic activities on school grounds. This is a rule for all teachers and all couples, incidentally, regardless of orientation. What you do outside the school is entirely your business, but while you’re within school grounds, I will have to request that you avoid any overt signs of affection, particularly of the variety you engaged in today. I also feel I should warn you, for future reference, that while the woods behind the school are quite well hidden from the majority of the rooms in the school, they are actually quite visible from the window in my office.”

  Despite not being someone very prone to blushing, I nevertheless felt myself transforming into a member of the beet family as I stood there, embarrassment oozing from every pore. I was sure I’d feel relieved about the lack of firing
and/or death later, but for now, all I could think about was Karen—who was around my mother’s age, and one of those very proper-seeming English ladies who I couldn’t imagine even going to an R-rated movie—beholding the sight of David and me backed up against a tree, kissing passionately and doing a certain amount of grinding.

  “Oh God oh God,” I mumbled, pressing a hand to my face and shaking my head to get the image out. “I’m so sorry you saw that. It was...” Well, fantastic, of course, but probably that wasn’t the right tone to go for in this situation. “It was inexcusable and very unprofessional, and I’m really... I’m so, so sorry.”

  I almost couldn’t force myself to take the hand off my face and look at her, but finally I did. She was still sitting calmly at my desk, looking utterly professional and proper with her neat gray hair and flawless business ensemble.

  “Jess,” she said, “I’m quite a bit older than you, and I daresay I’ve seen a great deal worse than what I did today, and in much less romantic situations. I’d prefer not to see a repeat performance, but if you’re worried I’ve been in some way irrevocably scarred by what I saw today, you needn’t concern yourself. Actually, I’m glad the two of you have finally stopped mooning hopelessly over each other and taken some action. I believe some of the other teachers had a pool going, actually. I should ask Mrs. Lewis if I’ve won anything in that, now that I think of it.”

  Before any of this really had a chance to sink in—a pool?—Karen got to her feet and came around the desk. She patted me on the shoulder in a very nice, motherly sort of way and smiled. “Congratulations,” she said, and she actually sounded like she meant it. “I adore you both, and I wish you every happiness. But do be more careful in the future.”

  She paused, apparently expecting some kind of response this time.

  “Okay,” I managed.

  She nodded smartly, then turned and strode out of the room, high heels clacking down the hallway back toward her office.

  I stood there for a few seconds feeling like I’d just been beaten senseless with sticks, and finally wobbled over to my chair and sank down into it. Probably I should’ve spent a long, serious moment thinking about professionalism and my teaching career and the disturbing fact that every teacher in the damned school seemed to know there was something going on between David and me, but what happened instead was that I laid my head on my arms and laughed until my face started to hurt.

  It was just one of those days.

  Chapter Six

  The rest of the day seemed to take an eternity to pass, but finally the last bell of the day rang and I was free to gather up my stuff and make my escape. I’d noticed more than a few secret smiles from other teachers as I passed them—I swear one of them had murmured, “Mazel tov,” as I went by—so I was pretty much overjoyed to have the chance to get the hell out of there. Granted, it was good to know that our coworkers weren’t reeling with disgust at the thought of David and me getting together, but really, enough is enough.

  David and I met up in the parking lot, having decided that it made more sense to leave his car here at school and ride back to my place together. I couldn’t help grinning as he made his way over to my little blue Toyota, looking tired but happy and sporting a small stain of red Kool-Aid on his shirt.

  “Hey,” I said, reminding myself firmly that we were still on school grounds and thus it would be inappropriate to grab him and maul him on the hood of the car.

  He stopped beside me and, before I knew what was happening, ducked in to give me a quick, chaste peck on the mouth. “Hey. Ready to go?”

  I stared at him, the warmth of his lips still lingering on mine, and tried to ignore the fact that the gym teacher, Linda, was giving me an enthusiastic thumbs-up as she climbed into her car.

  “Uh,” I said, and with some effort managed to get my brain back on track. “Yep, all ready to go.” Making a quick shooing motion at Linda, I opened the driver’s side door and dropped into the seat. “I gather you’ll want to swing by your place and pick up some things first?”

  “If it’s not too much trouble.”

  Once we were settled in the car, doors closed and seat belts in place, I reached over and took his hand. I wanted to thank him for kissing me, for not caring that we were out in public and people were watching, but I couldn’t seem to find the right words. So I just held his hand tightly for a moment, hoping he understood, then gave his fingers one final squeeze and let go.

  I felt his eyes on me as I pulled us out of the parking spot and out onto the road, but I didn’t dare look over at him. I was pretty sure that if I did I wouldn’t be able to look away, and my razor-sharp intuition told me that it might be slightly dangerous to attempt to drive without actually bothering to look at the road.

  “Rest of the day go all right?” David asked me as we drove. “No more...” He gave an embarrassed laugh. “No more witnesses?”

  “Thankfully, no. Really sorry about that, by the way.”

  “It wasn’t your fault.”

  I raised an eyebrow.

  “Well, okay, it might’ve been slightly your fault. But I’m willing to share the guilt equally if you are.”

  “Works for me.”

  We made a quick stop at David’s place, and I stayed in the car with the motor running while he dashed inside to throw some necessities into a bag and check to make sure the painters had gotten the job started. A few minutes later, he was back, wearing a shirt untouched by Kool-Aid and with a heavy-looking duffel bag slung over one shoulder.

  I frowned at him as he maneuvered his way back into the passenger seat. “You changed your shirt.”

  “What? Oh. Yeah, I did.”

  “I liked the other one. It had character.”

  “It had a Kool-Aid stain.”

  “I know. I was looking forward to insisting you take it off when we got back to my place.”

  “Ah-ha,” David said, grinning at my very lame attempt at flirting. “Well...” He reached into his bag and pulled out a tiny, unopened juice box of Kool-Aid. And then, God help us both, he waggled his eyebrows at me.

  I couldn’t help laughing. “This is just a thought, but maybe we could try it without the Kool-Aid.”

  “Mm,” David said solemnly, “you mean...just take my shirt off for no reason?”

  “Well, not for no reason.”

  I meant it to come out light-hearted and jokey, but instead my voice was soft and a bit raw. David’s smile melted away, and we just looked at each other for a few seconds, the car rumbling quietly around us.

  “Let’s go back to your place,” he said.

  I nodded, my mouth dry. “Okay.”

  I got us out of David’s driveway and onto the road in approximately point-two seconds. And if I was speeding just a little as I drove us back to my place, I was sure the police would understand if I took the time to explain the situation properly.

  Yeah, sure they would.

  Fortunately, we didn’t encounter any speed traps on the way back, and a few tense minutes later, we were pulling into my driveway, the tires only squealing a little as I wrenched us to a stop.

  “Okay, let’s go,” I said the moment the car was no longer moving. I’d managed to pull the key out of the ignition, unfasten my seat belt, and open the door all in one smooth motion...when I noticed Thomas sitting on my front stoop.

  My lustful thoughts drained away, and I exchanged a quick, confused glance with David. Thomas was sitting with his chin on his knees, arms wrapped around his legs, and his expression had a distinct kicked-puppy quality to it. He didn’t look up as I approached, or move at all when I sat beside him and rested a hand on his shoulder.

  “Thomas? What happened? You okay?”

  He didn’t move for another few seconds, then finally lifted his head from his knees. “They took her,” he said in a flat, lifeless voice. “Grandma. They took her to the home today while I was at school. I got home, and Mom told me they took her this afternoon.”

  I experienced a momen
t of hollow shock, followed by a hot flood of rage. “What? Why? Dad said they were going to wait until tomorrow.”

  “I don’t know.” He looked up at me, and I realized with a start that he was actually near tears. “I guess the séance is off, huh?”

  I squeezed his shoulder, but couldn’t think of anything to say that didn’t involve violent cursing and/or talk of patricide. After taking a few calming breaths, I settled on asking, “How’d you get here?”

  “I took the bus.”

  “You took a Chicago bus at rush hour?”

  “It was okay. It got pretty packed after awhile, but I just pretended I was in a giant, smelly clown car.”

  “Of course you did.”

  “Jessie, can I stay here tonight? Please?” There was no wheedling, no manipulating, just a quiet, weary sort of pain in his voice.

  I thought briefly of David and how the addition of Thomas would pretty much destroy all our sexy-time plans for this evening, but Little Brother In Trouble trumps just about everything, and so I didn’t hesitate more than a second. “Sure,” I said, patting him on the back. “Stay as long as you want.”

  David came cautiously up the walk at that point, looking like he was torn between helping out and not intruding. In the end, he settled for moving slowly toward us until Thomas glanced up at noticed him.

  Thomas looked a little puzzled, then something seemed to click and he got up. “Are you David?”

  David nodded. “I am, yeah.”

  “I’m Thomas.” He held out his hand, which David shook warmly.

  “Nice to meet you,” David said. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  Thomas glanced over at me and even managed to grin a little. “Same here.”

  “Okay,” I said loudly, figuring I’d better cut in before Thomas decided to share any inappropriate tidbits he’d heard about David prior to this, “how about we go inside before frostbite sets in? Yes? Great.”

 

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