Some kids tugged at our hearts as teachers, but rules and laws forbade us to offer help. I understood these rules were in place to protect not only the kids but ourselves as well, but it was frustrating at times when you genuinely wanted to reach out and help.
“Hi Charlotte,” I greeted her with a smile then added gently. “You know you can’t represent yourself at a conference.”
Her cheeks turned red, and her fair coloring didn’t hide it when she was embarrassed. I noticed she did that a lot, blushed when I spoke to her. At first, I thought she was just shy, but now I wasn’t so sure if it wasn’t something else, like her having a crush on me. It wasn’t the first time I had to handle students who had a crush on me. It was a normal part of their adolescence, but I always discouraged it at the first signs.
“Hi Mr. Moreau,” she returned, taking a seat at the front and staring at the desk. “My dad is finishing up with my Geography teacher. He should be in any minute now.”
“Okay. Can’t wait to meet him.”
She grimaced. “I know I haven’t performed the best.”
“It’s good you recognize that. Then you can do something about it.”
“Sometimes it’s just so hard to concentrate with everything else that’s going on.”
I nodded my understanding. “But you’ve got to try.”
She expelled a loud breath. “Okay, I will. I wanted to talk to you about the play you are organizing at the community center. Is there- is there any parts left that I could fill?”
I was pleasantly surprised by her request because she was such an aloof girl who didn’t interact much with her classmates. “Yes, we have some minor roles,” I told her. “Of course you’ll have to audition with the rest of the kids who signed up. Can you do that?”
“I think so.”
“Great. Then come over to the community center at five tomorrow, and we’ll have the rest of the auditions.” A man entered the classroom, and I shifted my focus to welcome the newcomer. I rose to my feet, and the greeting stuck in my throat. “Gordon?”
He froze in that all too familiar way of his. He looked good, though tired and his face paled when he saw me. His short hair was tousled like he’d run his fingers through his hair several times throughout the day. Dressed in jeans with a blue shirt tucked into the waistband and hard boots, he didn’t seem like anybody’s dad. His tired look only made him more appealing since it got me thinking about beds and what could be done in them. Or how desks and chairs could be a perfect substitution.
I wanted to ask him why he’d left this morning without waking me. I almost did, but then I remembered Charlotte sitting before us, looking from her dad to me with a confused expression on her face.
“You know my dad?” the teen asked.
“I wouldn’t exactly say know,” Gordon rushed to reply, his eyes burning into mine, begging for secrecy. Did he think I would intentionally out him to his daughter? “We ran into each other once,” he said, turning to Charlotte “How come you didn’t tell me Beau was your teacher?”
“I did,” she answered. “Several times. I even told you this morning about Mr. Moreau and the play.”
But he didn’t know my surname so he would have no idea, and Charlotte’s guardian listed was a woman, Barbara Mattis. I tried to remember if Gordon had mentioned they were divorced or if they were still together. I didn’t remember though I vaguely recalled him talking about being married for eighteen years. I couldn’t be sure. A lot had been said and done that night. My eyes dropped to his fly. A whole lot.
“As I said, we just talked for a short time,” Gordon explained to his daughter, taking the seat beside her. “I barely know the guy.”
It was partially true. We had left off talking to do other things. I wondered how his daughter would take it if she found out her father was gay. Or that he was involved with me. Shit, I slept with a student’s dad. I returned to my seat, feeling hot all of a sudden. This could not be good. The fucking irony of my life had continued. The first man I had slept with since my relationship, and he turned out to be off-limits.
“Well, let’s get this over with,” I remarked, my hand shaking as I shuffled papers I didn’t need. My brain had decided to go on vacation because for the life of me, I couldn’t remember the words I had been parroting to parents all day.
“How’s Charlie doing in school?” Gordon asked. “You’re her French teacher, right?”
I nodded. “That’s right.” I cleared my throat and looked up at him. I wished I hadn’t. I kept seeing him naked on my bedsheets, the rapt look on his face as he nutted in my mouth. From the way he was looking at me, I’d bet I wasn’t the only one thinking about it. I pushed fingers into the top of my necktie and pulled it down to give me room to work the frogs out of my throat. “Did you see her last exam paper?”
“I-I’m not sure,” he answered, scratching the back of his neck.
I turned to Charlotte. “Did you show your father—” I still was struggling to believe he was the father of this child— “your exam paper?”
Charlotte’s guilt-ridden face lowered, and she tugged down the long sleeves of her top to cover her fingers. “I didn’t.”
Gordon turned to her. “Why didn’t you show me?”
She shrugged. “You are always busy dealing with Ollie and stuff.”
Ollie? My interest peaked at the mention of this Ollie fellow who was a part of Gordon’s life. A significant part too based on his daughter’s reaction. I frowned, suspecting I was missing something important here. Ollie couldn’t be the man in Gordon’s life. Last night had been his first.
“Hey.” Gordon squeezed his daughter’s hand. “That’s no excuse not to show me. I know you are used to your mother doing this kind of stuff, but it’s just me now, and I need a little help. So, the next time you get your exam papers, I need to see it.” He turned concerned eyes to me and I wished I could kiss a smile back on his face. He had smiled last night but it didn’t seem like he smiled too often in his real life. Real life? If last night wasn’t real, then what was it? “Is her grade bad?”
“It is,” I answered although I wished I could spare his sadness. “But, it’s not something that’s unfixable. Here, take a look at this. I’ve organized a chart that shows you her performance so far— the assignments she did, what she didn’t hand in, what grade she received, her participation level in class and all the test scores.” I had made a report for each student, and I passed hers to Gordon. He took the paper from me, and our fingers brushed. Heat ran through us, and I glanced up at him. He refused to meet my eyes as he sat back down in his seat to peruse the performance chart. I gave him a few minutes to go over the chart while I worked on making it through the next couple of minutes.
Charlotte must have sensed the disappointment in her father because she asked to be excused to use the restroom. I almost begged her to stay, not wanting to be left alone with her father, but imagined how suspicious she would be if I insisted she stayed. It was already bad enough that I’d called out Gordon’s name. If I hadn’t, she wouldn’t have known that Gordon and I had met before. There wouldn’t have been any explanation necessary.
Just act professional. No one needs to know how thirsty you are for Gordon right now. I can do this. I can fake it.
“Jesus, these grades are horrible!” Gordon exclaimed. “And it’s every single subject. How didn’t I know this?”
“For French, the problem is her inconsistency,” I explained. “Some of her grades are high, when she bothers to do the work and spends time on it, but she’s easily distracted. Often she drifts off while I’m teaching.” I hesitated, wondering if Gordon knew how much hurt his daughter seemed to be going through. If his wife had divorced him because he finally told her he was gay, I could see how his daughter could be affected by it.
“I feel like such a fucking failure!” he declared, his words laced with anger. “Sorry, about the swearing.”
“It’s fine,” I reassured him. “And I’m sure you’re n
ot a failure as a father. Just do the best you can.”
“I thought I was, but now it’s clear my best is not good enough” He got to his feet and started pacing. “I’ve a son shoplifting and a daughter who’s failing her classes. If that’s not failure, then I don’t know what is?”
His heartbroken question tugged at my emotions. I couldn’t help myself. I stood and walked over to him. I rested my hand on his shoulder and squeezed, temporarily forgetting that I was his daughter’s teacher, forgetting that he’d sneaked out of my apartment this morning and probably had no desire to see me again. All that came second to the way he was feeling, and my need to offer him comfort.
“It’s not easy for kids to lose a parent,” I said softly. “Give yourself some credit. You showed up, which some parents won’t. It’s obvious you love your children. You know your shortcomings, and we all have them, so work on it. You may make mistakes, but I believe you’ll eventually get the hang of it.”
He stared at me, looking miserable. “How can you be so sure?”
“Because even though we don’t know each other very well, I can already tell that you’re an amazing man.” Let it go. Let it go, Beau. “Maybe one who sneaked out of my apartment even though he promised to wake me, but an amazing man nonetheless.”
His face went red, and he hung his head in regret. “Beau.”
I heard talking approach us and quickly separated myself from him just as Ms. Palmer returned to the classroom. She glanced from Gordon to me, and I held my breath, wondering if we looked guilty.
“Ms. Palmer, what can I do for you?” I asked her, increasing the distance away from Gordon.
She looked away from Gordon to me. “Um, I thought I left my coat in here.” From the redness of her cheeks, there was no truth to that statement. She had come to check if I was still alone. Did the woman not know how to take a hint? Would I have to explicitly tell her how gay I was?
“I don’t recall you wearing a coat when you stopped by earlier Ms. Palmer,” I told her in a stern voice. “If you indeed were wearing one before, you must have left it elsewhere.”
She looked as though she wanted to say something else but glanced at Gordon, nodded and left again. I couldn’t wait for her kid to move up a grade, so I didn’t have to deal with her anymore. That woman was looking for trouble.
“I should go,” Gordon said, heading towards the door as well. “Thanks for the talk. I’ll try to be a better dad from now on and pay more attention to her work.”
I felt a mini-panic coming on that he was leaving again. Just like that. I wanted to stop him, but it wasn’t my place to do so. I was only here talking to him in the capacity of his daughter’s teacher. By his actions or lack thereof, he didn’t want me to play any other role.
“It was nice meeting you, Mr. Mattis,” I said and because I couldn’t help myself, added, “Again.”
He paused at the door, his back to me. I had given him the opening to respond in kind. He looked over his shoulder at me, his eyes full of regret. With a nod, he walked away, and I closed my eyes, trying to convince myself this was for the best anyway. I couldn’t break my rule and sleep with a student’s father. At least, not knowingly.
No matter how much I wanted to.
Chapter 8
Gordon
Lying in bed, I turned for what must have been the dozenth time. As much as I tried to sleep, I couldn’t get Beau off my mind. A week had already passed since I’d run into him at the high school. I’d almost had a heart attack when I realized he was Charlie’s French teacher. He had looked even better and so fuckable dressed in professional attire. His clothes had been tailored to suit his physique just fine, and he’d looked good enough for me not to be able to decide whether I wanted him dressed or naked. Dressed had been better in the circumstance. Thank God that parent had shown up when she did, or I might have kissed him. God knew I had been tempted.
Kicking the sheet off me, I gave up on sleep, or maybe sleep had given up on me. I rolled out of bed and moved toward the closet to find something to drag on. I was in the buff which wasn’t exactly appropriate for going to the gay bar, although I was sure some men would have appreciated it. I knew for a fact if Beau were there, he would.
I dragged on a pair of navy blue jeans, without even bothering to pull on underwear. After a T-shirt and a pair of boots later, I grabbed the car keys. I had no idea if Beau would be at the gay bar or not. A week had passed. Even if he had hoped to see me there again, there was little merit to thinking he would be waiting at the bar, every single night, hoping I’d show up.
I finger-combed my hair while looking in the mirror. I could have probably made more of an effort with my appearance. I wanted to make more of an effort, and because of that desire, I didn’t. I refused to go through my closet trying to find a nicer shirt. I didn’t want to meet Beau to pick up where we left off. I just wanted to talk to him a little, to try and explain away the disappointment I’d seen in his eyes the day I walked away from him at the school, without admitting how good it was to see him as well.
After spraying on cologne, I checked the time which was after nine. Upon leaving the house, I popped my head into Ollie’s room after knocking. Whatever he was doing on his laptop, he quickly shut down the lid and turned to me. “Yeah?”
“I’m going out,” I told him. “Remember, you’re grounded which means no leaving the house. Give an eye on your sister.”
“Whatever.”
I shook my head and closed the door instead of reprimanding him. At least he was back in school and hadn’t been in trouble again. Yet. Charlie was in the living room, sitting on the couch with her textbooks on the coffee table. She was more immersed in the television than the book on her lap. I frowned at her.
“Charlie, have you finished your homework?”
She glanced at me. “Yes, I’m all done. You don’t have to ask me that every day, you know.” Even though she complained, I believed she liked that I gave her attention. She had been right about Ollie consuming too much of the attention around here.
I smiled at her. “Get used to it. How’s French class?”
“Great.” She smiled at me. “Mr. Moreau gave us a pop quiz today, and I’m pretty sure I aced it.”
I returned her smile. “Good. I know you have the smarts in the family.”
“No, mom was the smarts.” Her smile faded, and I couldn’t resist. I went over to sit beside her. I enveloped her in my arms, and she clung to me, shuddering. “I know you miss her.”
She nodded. “I keep wanting to know why? Is it something we did?”
I understood because I asked the same question. Barbara couldn’t have killed herself because I told her I wanted a divorce. She already knew of my sexuality because I had told her some years before. I’d given her the option if she wanted us to continue as we were or get out of the marriage. I had secretly prayed for her to want out, but Barbara was determined, and she never liked to admit failure. She had preferred remaining in marriage to a gay man. Since it was the only condition I’d known, I had gone along with her idea to maintain the family for the kids’ sake.
“It’s not us, and I never want you thinking like that,” I told her firmly, putting her away from me so she could see how serious I was. “We may never know what drove her to it, but she always loved both of you, and that will never change.”
“Okay.”
I could feel her shutting down on me again. I rose to my feet with a sigh. “I’ll be going out for a few and will be back as soon as possible. Give an eye on Ollie for me, please. If he tries to do something foolish, try to talk him out of it.”
“Ollie won’t even listen to you. What makes you think he will listen to me?”
I couldn’t dispute her point. “Just try. Don’t stay up too late and ensure you really did all your homework.”
I was almost out the living room when her voice stopped me. “Daddy?”
I immediately turned to her because she only ever called me ‘daddy’ when
something was wrong, or she wanted something. She rarely asked for anything these days.
“Yes, Charlie?”
“Are you seeing another woman?”
I was too stunned for words. “What? Why do you think that?”
She shrugged. “Just that you’re going out, and you came in so late about a week ago when you went out.”
I felt guilty and a little alarmed that she was checking up on me. She was not the person I wanted to find out that I was gay, especially not before I told her myself. If one of my kids discovered my secret, it was sure to be her.
“I’m not seeing a new woman,” I assured her, though my mind lingered on Beau and that I wasn’t telling a lie. “Would it bother you though, if I did?”
She frowned. “I don’t know. It would seem kind of disloyal to mom.”
My eyebrows arched. “Honey, eventually I’ll find someone.”
“I know but you know, it’s still too soon. Can you at least wait until Ollie and I are out of the house?”
I couldn’t answer that. While my kids had lived with Barbara and me all their lives, they didn’t know the arguments and the extent of our relationship once the bedroom doors were closed. I’d long since suspected Barbara had taken a lover, but I hadn’t been able to prove it. Once she was discreet about it, I couldn’t have cared any less.
“If I ever have a serious relationship, I’ll tell you. Now, goodnight and as I said, don’t stay up beyond ten.”
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