Easy Does It Twice

by Gianni Holmes

  She blushed and glanced away. “I-I’m sorry I mess up my lines,” she remarked. “It’s such a tiny part, but I always mess it up. Maybe you should find someone else to take this role.”

  To be honest, that would have been the best route, but I wanted to give her a chance. “I think you are perfect for the part you are playing,” I told her. “Unless you don’t want to be a part of the play anymore.”

  “I do! I do!” she affirmed. “Everyone thinks I suck though. Do you think that?”

  “I think with a lot of practice and your heart in the right place, you’ll do fine,” I said. “Who knows? You may become a regular Scarlett Johansson one day.” Okay, so maybe that was pushing it too far, but I felt better at her shy smile. She was really her father’s daughter. Both smiled very little. Just what had that family been through anyway?

  “I’ll give it my best shot,” she said with renewed determination.

  “Great. Each part no matter how small is vital to the play. Without you, the play wouldn’t be what it is, so your part is just as valuable as any other. Don’t forget that.”

  She nodded. “Thanks, Mr. Moreau.”

  “You’re welcome, Charlotte.”

  She started to leave, but then she paused and checked out the room. The kids had left the chairs in disarray instead of fixing them up after use. “Do you want help straightening up?” she asked.

  I shook my head, touched that she had offered. Gordon should see his daughter, I thought. He was so hard on himself that he was doing a shitty job, but here, his daughter was the only one who had volunteered to stay back and help.

  “No, that’s fine,” I told her. “Get on home and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Good evening, sir.”

  I wished her a good evening as well, and when she left, I was alone. I straightened the chairs which took some time. Afterward, I stood staring at the makeshift stage. Apart from my love for teaching, I loved the theater. I had been in the drama club at high school, and later at university I’d opted into electives that had to do with drama. I’d chosen to teach as a safety net. The job was more stable than going into an unpredictable acting career. Over the years, I found a love for the job. Being able to do both in Louisiana was just perfect.

  I locked up the community center and headed straight for the gay pub to get a drink. I harbored no illusions this time that Gordon would somehow sense my longing for him and show up. How ridiculous I had been. If he ever knew I did such a thing, he’d probably be embarrassed for me. I only felt comfortable returning to the bar because he didn’t know about it.

  The bartender, Cody was accustomed to me by now and I, him. When he approached me just a few seconds after I sat at the bar, he had done it so often to me that it didn’t bother me anymore. I didn’t even bother to order my usual martini. Without asking, he took care of my drink and placed the flute on the countertop.

  “There you go,” he said. “If you need some company just let me know.”

  I smiled at him and shook my head. “Aren’t you worried you’ll get fired for ignoring your other customers?”

  He grinned at me. “Honey, this place needs me,” before running off to his next customer.

  Left alone to my own devices, I removed Charlotte’s permission letter from my pocket. My hands shook as I unfolded it to reveal the information inside. The first thing that jumped at me was Gordon’s untidy signature and the barely legible scrawl of his name. Good Lord, the man couldn’t write well to save his life. When I found myself grinning at his godawful handwriting, I scowled instead. I was pissed at him for not getting in touch with me. He knew where I lived, although the little I knew of him, I didn’t expect to see him outside my apartment anytime soon. Beau was cut from an old-fashioned cloth which was charming but had the potential to be irritating as well.

  I finally looked at his contact information. It was a standard that I used with children. If their parents signed anything that involved me, they were required to write their contact information in the case of emergencies and also for me to verify if their parents had been the one to sign the document. Kids weren’t above asking their friends to sign permission slips for them. I was tempted not to call Gordon but doing that would only show me that I really was bothered by what he had done.

  I spent almost an hour at the bar, nursing my drink and getting some liquid courage in me to call Gordon. I didn’t want to call him too late, however, so long before I was ready to leave, I was paying for the one drink I had ordered since I arrived. The last thing I needed was to be drunk on a call to Gordon and blurt out that I wanted him back in my apartment, so we could pick up where we left off the last time. And boy did I want to pick up things with him. So much had been left unexplored between us.

  “Leaving me so soon?” Cody asked with a pout.

  “Yeah, I’ve some stuff to do at home.” Shit, I was starting to sound like Gordon that night he had tried running out on me. Maybe I should have let him leave. Then I wouldn’t have had the opportunity to be hurt by him leaving me without saying goodbye.

  “Hmm, whatever did become of you and that guy?” he asked as I slid off the stool. “You know, the one you claimed was your boyfriend.”

  I shrugged, making it out to be unimportant. “People come and people go. It’s a part of life we learn to deal with.” I hated the hurt that I heard in my tone.

  “Well, I got something for you,” he told me.

  I backed away from the counter, not in the mood for his attempts to get me into bed with him. “See you around, Cody.”

  “Your loss,” he yelled at me. “I tried giving it to you.”

  No kidding. His wasn’t what I wanted though. I couldn’t wait any longer to call Gordon so as soon as I was in my car, I turned on the ignition, and while I waited for the engine to warm up, I punched in the number from the letter. The phone rang, and I smoothed my hand over my thigh.

  “Hello.”

  I startled as Gordon’s voice interrupted the ringing. I didn’t respond at the same time. Damn, I had to pause because I could sense the words about to come out and they didn’t concern his daughter.

  “Hello?” he repeated.

  “Hello, is this Gordon Mattis?” I asked, to buy some time.

  “Yes. And who am I speaking to?” Ouch. He didn’t even know my voice.

  “This is Mr. Moreau, Charlotte’s French teacher,” I answered, deciding I’d need my formal voice to get through this call.

  “Please don’t tell me she’s failing again. I’ve been checking her books, ensuring she does her homework, and I even helped her to study for her last test.” He paused and sucked in air that I could hear from over the phone. “Damn, maybe that’s why she failed.”

  “Actually, she did very well on that last test,” I answered.

  “Oh, is she in trouble then?”

  “No, she’s not. I received her permission letter today, and I’m just following up that you did, in fact, sign the letter.”

  “I know my handwriting isn’t worth a lick but yes, I signed it,” he answered. “Is there anything else?”

  Yes, why did you leave? “No, that’s it. Have a good night.”

  “Thanks. Same to you.”

  I hung up the phone, my face heated from the conversation. “What the fuck was that?” I was stunned at the way the conversation had played out. I’d anticipated that after discussing Charlotte, we would get around to talking about us. I felt like calling him back and asking him to be upfront with me, but I refrained. To ensure I didn’t do anything so foolish as to call him back, I threw my phone in the backseat to ignore it for the rest of the night.

  Gordon’s silence had been loud and clear.

  Chapter 10

  Gordon

  “Charlie, let’s go!” I called from the foot of the stairs. With a frown, I checked my watch. “If we’re not out of the house in five, we’re going to be late!”

  “I just need a sec.”

  “Okay. I’ll be in the car. Lock
the front door on your way out.”

  Before I could walk away, she was already at the top of the stairs and descending. I stared at her in surprise, temporarily knocked off the pity stool I had been sitting on for the past couple of days since Beau’s phone call. Charlie was wearing a cute yellow dress and had curled her hair which now rippled down her back. She looked older, and nothing like the girl who had been crying her eyes out for almost a year. The sadness still lingered in her eyes, and she would always be shy rather than forward, but she had the hint of a smile on her face. Her shoulders weren’t still slumped though, but her gaze wasn’t permanently fixed to the floor.

  “Is something wrong?” she asked, stopping at the last stair. “You don’t like the dress?” Her face paled and took on a stricken look. “I should go change if you think I look ridiculous.”

  “You look great,” I told her. “I’m glad to see you like this.”

  “Thanks. Let’s go. I don’t want to be late.”

  I wanted to ask her what the reason for the change was but didn’t want to put her on the spot. The last thing I needed was her going back to her shell. While what I had with Beau hadn’t improved, the kids were a little better. Even Ollie hadn’t been in trouble since he returned home drunk. While I wasn’t sure how much of what had happened he remembered, we hadn’t spoken of it, and it seemed to have sobered him up.

  Ollie was already sitting in the car and texting when we joined him. He had crashed his first car which I bought him when he got his license at sixteen. I’d held off getting him another because I needed to know he was responsible first. I had been on the brink of buying him one around the time his mother died. Maybe I would get him one for his birthday though. He would need a car when he was off to college. As I adjusted the rearview mirror, I glanced at him in the backseat. He was frowning furiously while texting on his phone. I could hardly believe one of my kids would be going to college in a few months. Soon Charlie would be gone too and then I would be left alone. The thought wasn’t at all appealing. Having been married young, I never thought about living my life alone, but now as the future loomed before me in 3D, the likelihood of it happening was frightening.

  “How’re rehearsals going, Charlie?” I asked her instead of succumbing to my desire to ask about Beau. I couldn’t solicit information about a lover from my child especially given my secret. She could never find out Beau meant more to me than she thought.

  “It’s okay, dad,” came the short response.

  “Just okay?” I frowned.

  “I admit I’m not too good an actress,” she answered. “Some of the other kids make it difficult, but Mr. Moreau is great. I know he kicked some kids from the play because they were mean to me.”

  “Kids are mean to you?” I never thought she would be made fun of at school, especially since she had just lost a mother. “Which kids? Do you want me to talk to the principal about it?”

  “As if that’s going to help,” Charlie grumbled. “The man hates our family. Didn’t you go to school with him, dad?”

  “Yes, I did.” I grimaced. Even back then, Jackson had been a prick. He was always more aligned with teachers than students which had caused him to be poorly treated by his peers. He was perfect for the position of principal and the school had benefited under his leadership, but he didn’t give an inch and sometimes kids needed that inch to straighten out.

  “He must be treating us based on what you did to him back then,” Ollie commented. “And that’s not fair. Somebody should be calling him out on it.”

  “I’ve never had a problem with Mr. McLean,” Charlie pointed out.

  “You don’t have a problem with that faggot French teacher of yours either,” he snapped back. “In fact, I’m probably sure you’ve got a crush on him. Well, guess what? He’s queer and he shouldn’t be working around us kids in the first place.”

  “Oliver!” I had never heard him speak like that before and I was stunned at the vehemence in his tone. The fact that it hit home only made it worse. “That’s not the way you speak about an adult,” I choked out, trying to formulate sentences through my shocked state. “And it’s highly offensive to label someone like that.”

  “Even if it’s true?” he asked. “Everyone knows he’s a fag.”

  “So help me, Oliver, if I hear that word from your lips another time!” I snapped, losing it then. The blood rushed to my ears, and my heart thudded heavy and painful in my chest.

  “Well, he is gay!”

  “It doesn’t matter. Speaking like that makes you very homophobic, and I taught you better than that.”

  “And anyway, he really isn’t gay,” Charlie stated. She was glaring at her older brother. “I spend a lot of time with him at the community center, and I would know!”

  “Keep telling yourself that.”

  “You’re just mad because you got dumped by Heather!”

  “At least I’ve been dumped once. You haven’t even come close.”

  “Alright, that’s enough!” I snapped at them both. “Quit it. Now. You’re acting like a bunch of six-year-olds.”

  They shuffled as far apart from each other as they could in the back seat. Tears were in Charlie’s eyes again, and she now looked miserable. The little happiness she had found had disappeared and all because Ollie had been thoughtless. Who knew my son had become someone so insensitive? And that he was homophobic.

  I gripped the steering wheel tighter than I needed to, Ollie’s words tumbling about in my head. Over and over his words repeated, taunting me. I felt sick to my stomach and even angry at him for not making my decisions any easier for me. What if he found out the man he had spoken about so distastefully was no different than his father? Where the hell had I gone wrong for my son to openly bash gay people? I had run an inclusive family where I had taught them to love people regardless of the labels society put on us.

  I couldn’t get them to the school fast enough. Everyone was in a sullen mood as I parked for them to get out. Nobody said anything. The doors flew open. Ollie went one way and Charlie went the other. I observed them and how different they were. Charlie headed straight for the front doors, presumably to get prepared for her first class. Ollie made a beeline for a group of guys who were standing on the school grounds chatting and laughing. One held a basketball under his arm and upon seeing Ollie threw it at him. Ollie caught the ball and high fives went around. They guffawed, in a world of their own.

  I knew very well how being a jock could skewer one’s perspectives. Although Ollie didn’t play, his friends were all on the basketball varsity team. Sports had also influenced me as a teenager to remain in the closet. I had been on the football varsity team which was an even tougher crowd to hang with. Remembering some of the conversations that had circulated me when I was on the team, my blood ran cold. No wonder he was expressing these sentiments. Teen boys, especially those who were jocks tended to sexualize girls and trash talk gay kids.

  Ollie and I needed to have a long talk. I hadn’t taught them to follow the crowd but to maintain their individuality.

  Still perturbed by the events that unfolded this morning, I backed out of the school’s driveway. I had just cleared the exit and turning left when out of nowhere came a silver Chevy. I jammed the brake hard, but it was too late. I winced at the crunch of metal against metal.

  “Fucking great!” I exploded. This accident was what I needed this morning because apparently, my plate wasn’t already full dealing with my grieving, delusional, and homophobic kids.

  I pushed my car door open to light into the asshole who had encroached on my right of way.

  “What the hell, man! Were you sleeping at the wheel?” I demanded at the man who was emptying himself from his car.

  “I’m sorry, sir.”

  “Beau?”

  “Gordon.”

  We stared at each other in surprise. I’d never seen him drive before so I wouldn’t have known the car was his. I was also driving Barb’s car instead of the truck so he wouldn’t h
ave recognized me. Although he was a teacher here, I’d never run into him either on the school premises except for that one conference. He looked as good as ever. Even damn better. As always, he was dressed smartly in a pair of gray pants, a light blue long-sleeved shirt, and a sleeveless checkered sweater vest.

  If I had been hoping for the chemistry between us to have worn off with time, I was mistaken. The opposite had happened. I still wanted him. His eyes were full of desire as well. I could not mistake it for anything else because I had seen this same longing on his face all through the first night we had met. Still, there was something more behind those eyes. I took in the set of his jaw. Was he clenching his teeth?

  Fuck, he was pissed off at me.

  “Hey, can you guys move this to the side so the rest of us can go about our business?” a driver turning into the school’s driveway asked, honking his car and breaking up our ‘I can eye-fuck you better’ contest.

  I jumped back into my car, and so did Beau. I was glad for the minute I had to get over the shock of seeing him unexpectedly. Nerves twisted in my gut, but it was the good type. I was excited to see him again, and I didn’t plan to make a mess of talking to him this time. Even if at the back of my mind, the question lingered about what Ollie would think.

  We did just as the other driver had suggested and cleared the driveway. I didn’t think the damage to the cars was that bad, but it still had to be assessed. I didn’t intend to make him pay for damages even though he had been in the wrong. The little he made as a teacher was better put to use elsewhere, and his insurance was probably crappy anyway. Sending his premium up when I was trying to get him back into bed with me, was hardly the right courting method.

  After parking my car, I got out again. Beau exited his at a slower pace, almost reluctant as though he wasn’t looking forward to the conversation.

  “What’s the damage?” he asked, shutting his door. “Whatever it is, just take some pictures and send to me. I’ll have my insurance take care of it.”