Hasty Resolution

by Mullens, Sam Taylor

  I turn to look at Jake. "Today was the first day of school. It’s the first time I have missed the first day of school since I was five. I barely realized I wasn't there to greet my new students, show them where they sit, and soothe them through their first-day jitters. I wasn’t there to set out school supplies, put up bulletin boards, and get materials ready for the new school year.”

  I intertwine my fingers in his. “I just barely realized the fact I disregarded it all this past week as I lay here. The thought didn't strike me this morning when I woke up. It only occurred to me just now.”

  I look to the sky as the stars begin to glisten. “Maybe I’m done.”

  Jake combs the overgrown bangs out of my eyes. “Done with what?” he asks, glancing down.

  “Done with teaching. Maybe I’ve lost my spark, my enthusiasm. I don’t want to become a teacher who extends way beyond her years. The one who has outdated materials, dresses tacky, and completely ornery with the kids; the deadwood.”

  Jake laughs. “Liz, I’ve never seen that side of you, but I would be shocked if you had become that kind of teacher.”

  “I don’t believe I have arrived at that point, but I’m not feeling like that gal fresh out of college either. I’m sort of in the middle. I didn’t plan on what I would do once all my creativity and desire drained from me.”

  “What made you decide on becoming a teacher in the first place? I know it wasn’t for the paycheck,” Jake asks.

  “I wanted to work with children. I couldn’t imagine spending all day cramped in an office, dealing with dramatic people or petty office management issues. I still don’t think I could. I love the innocence of children, their sincerity, and their simplicity. The thing about kids is they know how to forgive easily. They can forget quickly how people have wronged them quickly and move on without holding a grudge. I don’t know if I could have done that as an adult without their example. Children wrap their arms around you without a second thought; they show you how to be grateful by rolling the word ‘thank you’ off their tongues with ease. They love unconditionally. They have taught me how to not twist and complicate things into a tangled mess as an adult. Maybe it’s time I start to live without them. Do it on my own. I just don’t know what to do now.”

  “This. Just do this with me,” Jake says as he wraps me tighter.

  “Just lie with me and forget the world. It may feel like we’re wasting time, but we’re not. We’ve done everything we were told. We’ve done the right things, been in the right places, and helped the right people for all the right reasons. We’re not too old, but we’re not that young either.”

  Jake shrugs. “There is probably more we can do, more to give, but not now. Not yet. It will all wait. When it is time, it will come to you; you’ll know what you need to do.” Jake kisses my temples. “You will figure it all out, I promise,” he says as he looks to the glittered sky. "I actually always liked school and all my teachers. I liked being there because all my friends were at school. It kept me away from the house and my mom. When I wasn't at school, I spent most of my time at my friend Doug's house. I practically lived with his family. His mom became my mom, his sister was my sister, and his dad treated me as his own son. Eventually, they bought Doug bunk beds. His mom always had the top bunk made for me with clean sheets.”

  I must have looked at him with sorrowful eyes.

  "Stop feeling sorry for me," he demands.

  "I'm not feeling sorry for you," I lie. I do feel sorry for him. I can’t help but feel anything but remorse when Jake shares something about his past, his life away from the cabin. Wanting to be at school to get away from your mom and have another family take you in is not an ideal childhood. His mother robbed him of something she should never have: being loved and valued unconditionally. The one person in this world who can do this almost as if is automatic, a mother. No one else can really love a child the way a mother can love her own.

  "Yes, you are feeling sorry for me. Don't. I had a great life growing up with Doug, his parents, and my grandpap. They made my life wonderful without my dad and then without my mom. They all saw a big part of her die the day my dad’s coffin was shipped home to California. She was completely hollow. Many people thought she would have taken her own life, but instead, she turned it over time and time again to men who never really loved or cared for her."

  “Jake, why did you become a Marine? I know it wasn’t for the paycheck,” I ask, hoping he will open up to me.

  “To make my family proud. To honor my dad. To make this world a little safer when there is so much violence. To be the one who makes a difference. There’s a sense of belonging in the Marines. You become really close to the guys you are with. They become your brothers. You’re just proud to be a part of it all. No matter where you are sent or what you are asked to do,” he explains.

  We lie under the blackened sky, heavily dusted with brilliant, golden stars. Twilight brings the stars out, glowing brightly with a clear vision of the Milky Way. It's never completely black at night when the stars and the moon are glimmering white. The night air penetrates me with a feeling of tranquility. I know that in the bottom of my heart, this will all end and both of us must return to the veracity of our predestined lives away from the cabin.

  I wish I could pull one of the stars from the sky. I want to keep it in my pocket just as a keepsake.

  Chapter 31: Liz

  As I take my last bite of dinner, all the lights and appliances in the cabin power off. Jake and I sit in the darkness, waiting for anything to flicker. Five minutes pass and nothing turns back on. There is no storm brewing outside, no lightning to strike any electric poles. Jake retrieves a three-inch candle from one of the kitchen cabinets. He fumbles through one of the drawers to find the lighter to light the candle. I see his face glow by the light of the candle. Jake explains how power failures can happen from time to time. He needs to go look at the main power box to see if it can be remedied quickly or if it has to wait until morning.

  "I'll stay here and clean up the dishes while you go out," I suggest.

  Jake has a flashlight and Zeke with him as he drives away. While they are gone, I clean up the kitchen by candlelight, washing and drying all the soiled dishes by hand and I stow them in their proper places.

  I'm accustomed to the layout of the cabin in the light, but I do not know it well enough to make my way around in utter darkness. I rely solely on the single light of the candle. I find myself colliding with chairs, the couch, and the coffee table as I try to make my way to the loft.

  I keep the thick candle gripped in my hand. Wax is not dripping down the sides; it is melting inward toward the wick. A pool of liquid is forming in the center. I carry it carefully so not to slosh it over the sides. I inch my way to the sitting area to a small table nestled between two over-sized leather chairs. Setting the candle down, I open the cupboard drawers of the end table to find stacks of reading material. All are old western Louis L’Amour books. My grandpa had the same collection of western novels in his house. I never read one myself, so I decide to flip through the pages, releasing the aroma of dust that has gathered over time. I randomly read a few passages. I laugh as I picture my grandpa engulfed in the western plot of this kind of book. The pages bring back sweet memories of my grandpa, who passed away several years ago. I wonder who inherited his collection of western books. I'm curious if they were given to Goodwill or if they sit on a shelf in someone's house, collecting dust as these do.

  Jake walks through the door and finds his way to the dimly lit loft where I sit reading. He knows the cabin by heart and does not stumble over the furniture as I did earlier.

  By the faint light, I see Jake holding a small box in his hands.

  "It looks like we'll be in the dark until the morning," Jake tells me.

  Jake can see me better than I can him.

  "I see you found my grandpap's stash of old books. I just haven't cleaned them out yet. He read each of those at least a dozen times.”

  "
My grandpa was into these kind of western books too. Well, that is, when he wasn't reading from the Bible."

  I hold the paperback in my hand, losing my place, not wanting to continue to read now that Jake has returned.

  "I forgot they were up here, just like I forgot about his uniform," Jake says as he sits in the adjacent chair with the box in his lap. "I guess that's what you do here on nights when the power goes out, read western novels. Maybe that’s what my grandpap used to do.”

  Jake lifts the flaps on the cardboard box and pulls out a handful of tea lights. He has the lighter in one hand and lights one tea light after another. Soon he has the circular disks scattered all over the end table, where the lamp would normally supply the light. I watch Jake light each one as I stash the book into the cupboard. Jake continues to place tea lights among the loft area lining the upper log banister to illuminate the loft softly.

  "I can move these candles into your room when you are ready for bed.”

  "Jake, I'm not doing very well, finding my way through the dark. I'm worried I might spill candle wax or worse, start a fire in the cabin. I think it will be best if I stay in this open loft area for the rest of the night.”

  "That’s just fine, if you want to sleep out here. There's plenty of room. I’ll grab some pillows and blankets to make something up on the floor.”

  Jake disappears in the dark with no light. He returns with a stack of blankets.

  "Do you want me to grab your pajamas?”

  "Um, I don't have any pajamas. I didn't bring an overnight bag with me, remember? Jake," I say softly. "I didn't want to tell you, but I've been stealing some of your large T-shirts and wearing them to bed every night.” I cannot see the reaction on his face. "I hope that’s all right.”

  Revealing this secret to Jake also means I am admitting to sneaking around in his drawers. I thought he noticed what I sleep in, since he crawls into bed with me almost every night.

  Jake chuckles aloud. "I thought so. That's perfectly fine.”

  He kneels next to me where I am stretching out the blankets on the floor. He cups my face. I see his face in the glow of the candles. I am relieved he's not mad. Jake gets anxious, but he doesn’t really get mad. Not at me, that is.

  "I'm glad you help yourself to whatever it is you need to make yourself comfortable here.”

  He kisses my forehead tenderly. My fingers wrap around his wrists, willing him to stay.

  "I'll let you get back to your book."

  Jake stands and I pull him back down. Thoughts of what I'd like to do are racing through my mind. Reading an old western novel is not one of them. Jake is strong. If he didn't want to stay with me, he wouldn't. He could easily jerk away from my grasp and go to his bedroom, but he doesn't move; he stays with me on the floor in the loft.

  I whisper, "Stay here with me, Jake. I really don’t want to read tonight. Stay with me, up here in the loft tonight.”

  He looks at me longingly. My mind wanders, thinking about things that I’d like to do with Jake in the dark. Our lips meet. We kiss each other deeply, fervently. My fingers run through his hair as our lips stay pressed and his arms wrap around my waist.

  Excitement runs through my veins. As our lips part, our eyes meet and I see his beautiful, strong face in the glow of the candlelight. His emerald green eyes glisten. I run my fingers over the dimples on his face. I can tell he is melting into my eyes. I want to do so much more than just hold and kiss him. I want all of him. I am wet between my legs as we kiss and embrace each other.

  I break off our kiss long enough to pull my shirt over my head along with my shelf tank. He kisses me as he cups my breasts in his hands. Jake eases me down to my back on the laid out blankets. He sucks my nipples, swirling each with his tongue before plunging his mouth over one. The passion inside me erupts. I slide off my pants with my panties at the same time and toss them aside. I pull Jake’s shirt off, not concerned with whether I am being too aggressive. He helps me clear his shirt over his head and presses his bared chest into mine.

  As we kiss, my nipples harden against his skin. My hands run along his muscular chest. I am too enraptured to wait for him. I undo his top buttons and he takes off his pants. I maneuver my way on top of him, straddling him at the waist as I repeatedly kiss his neck, his chest, and his navel. He pushes himself against me.

  I slither my way down his sternum and run my wet tongue to the base of him, swirling the tip with my tongue. He moans in pleasure as I continue exploring him with my tongue before completely inhaling him into the crevice of my mouth. I suck on him and he gasps. My moist mouth continues to pleasure him as I see him climax. I want more of him. I want to feel the entire strength of him inside of me. He is slick from my lips.

  I return to kiss his lower abs, his navel, his chest, and his soft lips. I straddle him with my bare legs. I can feel his tip touching my opening. I gasp in ecstasy as he fills me. Jake pulls me off swiftly.

  I feel rejected and confused as I lay next to him. I was too aggressive with him. I roll away and wrap myself in the corner of a blanket. What Jake says next catches me completely off guard.

  "I’m getting too carried away. I don’t have any protection. I cannot remember the last time I bought any and I don't want you to go back pregnant. I am not that kind of guy.”

  I roll out of the blanket and back to his arms. I smile as I take his index finger and pull it toward the bottom of my navel where a small bit of scar tissue still exists.

  "My tubes have been tied; there's no way I can have another child. I struggled to have the ones I have, so my doctor suggested we tie my tubes. If that is the only thing holding you back from me right now, then you have nothing to worry about,” I assure him.

  This fact does console him.

  He kisses me as I wrap my bare legs around him. I cover him with kisses before he enters me again with a pleasurable pain. I am elated as he pierces his thickness into me. His mouth finds my breast while he remains inside me. I quiver under his weight. He drives himself in and out of me as we build to a climax together. Our rhythms match as he rocks into me.

  Rolling to his back, we never lose the connection between us. His back is on the hard surface of the floor so he is not sinking away from me. I slow our pace so I can intertwine my fingers with his. We are sweating, hot with passion. The friction between us increases. He is deep inside of me and I squeal at his touch.

  He rolls straight on top of me and we gaze upon each other longingly, lovingly. He slides in and out of me. I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him into me more. Jake wraps his body around me like a warm blanket. His face buries in my neck as he delights me with kisses. I want this to last forever. I can feel him inside me, sending a sensation through both of us. He takes hold of my thighs, guiding his manhood deeper into me.

  “Liz, this is more than I can handle,” he says breathlessly as he slides off me and sits up.

  I should retreat and roll away again, but I can't. While he is sitting with his legs apart, knees bent, and his hands behind his back, I climb back on top of him. If he doesn't want this, if he truly does not want me, he is robust enough to toss me off like he had before.

  He welcomes me as I sit on him, my legs wrapped around his waist. His lips find my nipples. I rock into him, gaining speed and momentum. I scream as I climax. His face contorts as he climaxes. He releases into me. He looks completely relaxed. We both try to catch our breath. I collapse onto his chest as he wraps his arms around me. I lie overheated on top of the blankets in the glow of the candles.

  Tonight, I don't fall asleep in his T-shirt. Instead, I fall asleep wrapped in the warmth of his arms, hoping this is the first of many times we are together in this way.

  Chapter 32: Mike

  Tonight is College Game Day Kick Off. Liz and I always go together with our three kids sitting between us. The smell of popcorn, hotdogs, and warm nachos linger among the fans. As the team runs out from the tunnel, the crowds roar and stomp the bleachers. I look over to see Liz’s
empty seat. I never thought I would notice her absence, but now I do. Do I sell her seat? Do I give her ticket away game by game?

  When I look down at the cheerleaders, I remember what Liz was like in college. She was just like one of the blonde, cute, bouncy girls on the sideline of the football field. Liz was never one of the sultry ones; she was the all-American, freckle-faced girl who lived next door.

  I never understood why Liz even gave me the time of day. I think she talked to me because her cheerleader teammate rejected me repeatedly. Liz was smart, funny, charismatic, and popular. She should have been the wife of a doctor or a politician, not someone like me. Liz thought she rounded me out, which she did. I married her because I got lucky and didn’t want to pass an opportunity placed before me. I got Liz pregnant when she was drunk at a fraternity party. Her parents encouraged that I rein her in and keep her grounded so her college party years didn’t spill over into her adult life.

  Back to School Night was last week. Liz always insisted I go to be a supportive parent. I usually don’t mind attending, but this year, it’s an agonizing chore to go into my youngest son’s elementary school where Liz teaches. Now I have faculty members and students' parents asking so many questions about Liz, questions I cannot answer. They dutifully express their concern and I thank them for their thoughtfulness.

  I assumed the beginning of the school year would have brought Liz back through our door. Parents are disappointed, some downright angry, that Liz was replaced by another teacher. She is the kind of teacher who does her job because she loves it. She can clue in quickly to those kids who do not fit into the dynamics of school and makes it wonderful for them. She can bring up struggling readers and challenge the exceptional child. School is her life.

  Liz’s job also keeps her out of my hair so I can go about doing what I want to do, when I feel like doing it. When she wanted to take a sabbatical last year, I wouldn’t let her, since it would have meant she would be home more often. I didn’t want her breathing down my neck while I worked from the home office. I couldn’t have her meeting up with me when I traveled on business trips. Those frequent flyer miles are for me, not her.