Teach Me New Tricks

by Parker, Ali

  He laughed, jotting down the name of the class before sending me to the registrar. I followed the directions he’d given me and an hour later, I was walking out of the building officially enrolled in college. If only Carlie could see me now.

  I got back into the truck and thought about my wife. Part of me wanted to pursue religious studies because I wanted to find proof that there was a heaven. I wanted to believe Carlie was happy in heaven and watching over Olin and me. I needed to believe that. I wanted to think of her waiting under some big oak tree in heaven, ready to greet me when I finally got there.

  My practical, logical mind told me that wasn’t the case, but there was a small part of me that needed to believe in something bigger than life on earth. Earth sucked. Earth was full of pain and regrets. I needed to think about a place that was happy and perfect.

  I needed unicorns and glitter and lots of rainbows. Olin had told me I was a fool to believe in heaven. He’d been hurt and angry and when I had tried to tell him Mom was in heaven looking out for us, he’d gotten pissed.

  Maybe, just maybe I could find something in the study of religion that would give him something to hold onto. We both needed something that would help ease our pain.

  Chapter 4

  Leila

  I pulled my hair up into a bun, taking great care to make it look messy. It was ridiculous how much work the messy bun look actually took to be cute. I sat down in the chair in the corner of my room, which was older than I was. I loved vintage anything and when I had spotted the chair in a secondhand store, I had bought it without thinking about how I would get it home.

  I had managed, with the help of the old lady that owned the store and the gentleman passing by that took pity on us trying to squeeze the thing into my backseat. It had worked. Getting it out of the car had been another matter entirely.

  I pulled on my favorite boots with the chunky heels and rolled up the cuff of my jeans to show them off. The light black sweater I was wearing with the shoulder cutouts made me feel flirty and sexy. I put on my favorite dangly necklace, added a little more mascara to make my green eyes pop and headed out to meet Kami.

  I parked my car in the lot of the park where a fishing derby was being held. It was already packed, meaning I had to hike to where I was supposed to be meeting her. I waved when I saw her leaning against a tree, wearing her usual tight jeans, hoodie, and boots.

  “You wore your shitkickers?” I asked her with disgust.

  “I always wear my shitkickers. You never know when shit needs kicked. I’ll leave the girly girl stuff to you.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Men are afraid of you.”

  “As they should be. Now, let’s get out to the bar.”

  “It’s noon!”

  She gave me a look. “I didn’t say we were drinking. The bar is where the men hang out.”

  “I’m here to enjoy a nice day on the water and cheer on the locals.”

  “Me too, while I do a little man shopping.”

  I laughed, following her down the path that would lead us to the bar, which was surrounded by water on three sides. The fishing tournament was a big deal in town. Everybody came out to support the anglers while enjoying the various food booths and other vendors set up around the park. It was basically a place to catch up with neighbors while grubbing on good food and meeting new people.

  We took seats at one of the tables pressed up against the clear plastic edge that was about waist high to keep people from toppling into the water. We both ordered diet sodas, neither of us big drinkers, especially day drinkers.

  “All right, what’s your flavor?” she asked, her eyes shielded by her aviator sunglasses as she scanned the boats and the docks lining the lake.

  “My flavor?”

  “We’re doing a little man shopping. What do you want? Tall, dark? Blonde? Short?”

  I laughed. “I didn’t know there was an order form. I’ve been doing it wrong all this time.”

  “Yes, you have. We both have. It’s time to do this right.”

  I wrinkled my nose as two men with beer bellies and stained white shirts passed by us. “Why are we shopping here if we’re looking for a specific type of man? These are daddies out with their kids and old guys running from their wives.”

  She scoffed. “Um, you need to get your eyes checked. Check out those two over there. Single and ready to mingle.”

  I casually looked in the direction she was staring. “Too young.”

  “What about those guys over there?” she nodded to a dock where a group of middle-aged guys that looked to be car salesmen or some other type of salesperson were all standing and laughing.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe.”

  “See, these are the guys we need. They spend all their time fishing or making money. That means, we get to spend their money and we rarely see them. It sounds like the perfect situation to me.”

  “That’s not a very good marriage.”

  She shrugged. “Who said anything about a good marriage? Seriously, those don’t exist these days. Those are things of the past. They died somewhere in the last century.”

  “There are plenty of people who are happily married,” I argued.

  “Name one.”

  I thought about it. “Well, I can’t think of any off the top of my head.”

  “Because you don’t know anyone. Marriage sucks.”

  “That’s very cynical,” I told her.

  She sipped her soda. “Not cynical. It’s the facts. Half of all marriages end in divorce and the other half are the divorced people getting remarried. You have a fifty-fifty chance of getting divorced. When you think about marriage and all that you have to give up and all the compromise, does it really seem worth it? Then you have to go through the divorce and end up losing half your shit. No thank you. I’ll keep my stuff and just enjoy a relationship that doesn’t have to be sealed with a license—that you have to pay for, by the way.”

  “Please tell me you’re kidding.”

  “What would I be kidding about?”

  I gave her a look. “You have to want to settle down one day, have a couple of kids, and sit in those rocking chairs on your porch and watch the grass grow when you’re too old to ride your horse or chase men.”

  “I definitely do not,” she said with a scoff.

  “I don’t believe that for a second,” I said. “You’re just a big chicken.”

  “Yeah, right. I’m not cut out for that kind of life.”

  “I guess I don’t have much room to talk,” I mumbled. “I haven’t had a serious relationship in forever. The few dates I have gone on have been complete wastes of time. It seems like every man I go out with is just not right. I could probably fall right into the perfect man and I wouldn’t be able to recognize him.”

  “That’s because you work too much.”

  I sighed. “You are not wrong.”

  “You need to slow down. You’ve only been teaching a few years, but you have the look of a woman who has been teaching forever.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Seriously, the whole idea of being a teacher is you get to take a couple of months off every year. I don’t think you’ve stopped working since you graduated college.”

  “Because I want to do things and as it turns out, I’m not independently wealthy and people won’t just give me whatever I want. I apparently have to earn money and to do that, I must work. Despite what I thought when I chose to become a teacher, I don’t make a lot of money.”

  “You don’t have any money because you save it all.”

  I laughed. “You make that sound like a bad thing!”

  “Not bad, but come on. What if you get hit by a bus tomorrow?”

  I scowled. “That’s not a very positive thought.”

  “I’m just saying. If you get hit by a bus tomorrow or even a year from now, what good is that fat savings account going to do you? Unless you plan on bequeathing it to me, then by all means, pinch all your pennies.”

 
I rolled my eyes. “Nope. I’m going to donate it all to a cat sanctuary.”

  “I hate you.”

  “I know.”

  “When do you start work again?” she asked.

  “Monday.”

  “Damn, you didn’t even get a full week off,” she complained.

  I shrugged. “I know, but I don’t mind really. I like what I do, for the most part.”

  “But doesn’t it get old?”

  I sighed. “Sometimes. If a class is really not into it, then it gets old, but usually, I have enough energy for all of us.”

  “Maybe one of these days I’ll take your class. I’ve always kind of liked the Greek stuff.”

  I laughed. “You would hate it. I do require papers to be turned in.”

  She grinned. “But not for me. I’m your friend. I would expect preferential treatment.”

  “You can expect all you want, but that doesn’t mean you’re going to get it. In fact, I think I would be harder on you.”

  “That’s rude!”

  I laughed. “You deserve it. It would be the only way I could keep your focus on the class. You’d be drooling all over the young men there to get an education.”

  “Yeah right. No one goes to college for an education. It’s all about partying and hooking up.”

  “You have a very jaded view on things,” I told her.

  “Again, experience has made me a wise old woman at the ripe age of thirty-one.”

  “Speaking of wise old women, how’s your mom?”

  “Good. She expects me to help her at the bakery when one of her employees goes on maternity leave.”

  I laughed. “How dare she!”

  “You know what I mean. I like working part-time there and part-time at the feed store. I get bored easily. I don’t want to bake nonstop.”

  “You bake all the time when you’re off,” I reminded her.

  She wrinkled her nose. “That’s different. I’m baking for me.”

  “But you give all the goods to me and your neighbors.”

  “Well good lord, Leila, I can’t eat everything I bake. I’d never fit through the front door!”

  I couldn’t help but giggle at her absolute horror. “I should get going,” I said.

  “No, you shouldn’t. You should sit your ass right there and keep me company while I ogle these men.”

  “You’re so bad,” I teased.

  I watched as she made eyes at a man waiting at the bar. He was handsome and married. I looked at her, trying to get her attention to alert her to the ring on his finger.

  “I see him,” she hissed when I kicked her under the table.

  “No, look at the ring.”

  She frowned, squinting her eyes. “Ugh, what a pig. He was totally checking me out.”

  “I know. Don’t look at him.”

  “This is why it’s so hard to date. You just can’t trust anyone.”

  “With that said, I’m going home to finish up my lesson plan,” I said, finishing my drink.

  “Come on, I thought we were going to hang out all day?”

  “Doing what? Neither of us is interested in any of these men.”

  She put down her drink. “You’re right. Let’s go shopping.”

  “Now that is something I can get into. I need some new winter outfits for school.”

  We got up and left the bar. I did notice a few looks but I wasn’t interested. I was just not looking for a man. I didn’t have the time or the energy. It was a good thought, but just not for me. Not at the moment. I followed behind Kami as we drove to the mall. I mulled over all she had said about marriage.

  She was right. Marriage was a huge commitment and, in this day, and age of careers taking center stage in most people’s lives as we all chased the all mighty dollar, it just didn’t fit. A good marriage required time and energy and a lot of dedication. I was dedicated to my job. No man would want to play second fiddle to my students.

  I couldn’t say I would be okay with being second fiddle either. As much as I liked the idea of having a husband, I didn’t think I could deal with the ups and downs. I didn’t want to fall in love and then fall out of love. I wasn’t interested in getting my heart smashed to smithereens, either.

  The single life wasn’t so bad. At least I didn’t have to worry about getting my heart broken or breaking any hearts. I hated to disappoint people, and I felt like I would not be able to live with myself if I had a divorce on my conscience. I hated failure, so I would work myself to the bone and give up who I was to try and make a marriage work.

  That was no way to be happy. Single status was what was best for me.

  Chapter 5

  Christopher

  I stepped inside the walk-in closet and stared at the shelves filled with neatly folded jeans. I turned to look at the other side where my business suits were hanging. That was a definite no. I stepped in a little deeper and pulled out a couple of pairs of slacks and then a pair of jeans. I laid the outfits out on the bed and stood back.

  I was putting way too much effort into deciding what to wear. After finally getting dressed, I headed downstairs to start some coffee. It was a sunny morning, and I enjoyed the sunshine. It was a huge mood lifter. I grabbed my coffee and headed out to sit on the patio. It was a little cool outside, but not cold enough to send me back in.

  I sat down at the table and thought about my wife. I thought about her a lot. I missed her. I knew I hadn’t been a great husband. I took my role as provider very seriously. Too seriously. I had focused on making us comfortable and kind of let her take over the raising of our son while I spent my time working. Too much time. We had become two ships passing in the night.

  When she died, I’d been at work. I had been in a meeting, my cell phone silenced to avoid any interruptions. I would never forget turning on my phone and getting the voicemail that rocked my world, sending me to my knees in the parking lot next to my car.

  I got up, not wanting to go down that road again, and did my best to block the memories as I headed back inside. There was no sign of Olin. Typical. I headed back upstairs and knocked on his bedroom door. “Olin, it’s almost seven. It’s time to get up.”

  I heard a moan. “Five more minutes.”

  “Make it a quick five,” I said before going back downstairs.

  I felt like a kid again. I had all the nerves that accompanied the first day of school. It was my first day at the university and Olin’s first day at the new high school. I was hoping like hell it was going to be a good thing for him. I had tried to convince him to go to a private school, but he wasn’t having it. At least if I paid for the school, I had a little more pull. Big checks bought a lot of forgiveness. The public school he’d opted for left me with few options if he got into trouble again.

  I pulled the frozen waffles from the toaster, dumped some syrup over the top, and left the plate on the counter for Olin. I popped a couple of slices of bread in the toaster for myself. I couldn’t do sugar first thing in the morning.

  I slurped down my coffee while reviewing the latest news in the real estate world. Sometimes I missed it. I missed the closing of a deal and the hunt for a great property to develop. My favorite was taking the dilapidated and making it into something beautiful. I didn’t miss the time I put into closing those deals, though.

  “Olin!” I hollered when he still hadn’t come downstairs after ten minutes.

  “Coming,” he shouted back.

  He emerged, coming down the stairs like he was being sent off to war. His feet dragged across the floor. The new clothes I had bought him were obviously not what he wanted. He was wearing a pair of jeans that had rips and tears up and down the front. The t-shirt he had under the open plaid looked like he had purposely wrinkled it up.

  “Where's the new clothes?” I asked.

  “These are the new clothes.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “You sliced up new jeans?”

  He shrugged. “It’s called distressed.”

  “They definitely look
distressed. Is that the look you’re going for?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Yes. Are you seriously going to give me fashion tips?”

  “No, no, I was just making sure that was the look you wanted. If you’re happy with it, then so be it.”

  “I’m happy with it.”

  “Are you ready for your first day?” I asked.

  “No. Does that mean you’re going to let me stay home?”

  “No.”

  “Then I guess I’m ready.”

  “I made you a couple of waffles,” I said, nodding at the plate.

  He barely glanced at the waffles before grabbing his backpack. “I’m out,” he said, his voice low.

  “Hey, I’ll give you a ride,” I offered. “Let me grab my stuff.”

  “No thanks. I’ll find my way.”

  “The bus? You’re going to take the bus?”

  He shrugged. “I’m not driving. Or did you buy me a car and it’s out in the driveway?”

  “We’ll talk about it in a few weeks,” I said, squashing the car conversation again. “I need you to show me you’re ready for the responsibility.”

  “Whatever,” he said and headed out the door, slamming it behind him.

  I sighed, shaking my head. I couldn’t seem to make a right move. I pissed him off with everything I said and did. It was a little hard to feel good about yourself when you were constantly doing wrong. I tossed the untouched breakfast into the trash and left the plate in the sink. The housekeeper would be coming in later, and I had to get going.

  I grabbed the small satchel with my laptop and the requisite pen and paper I was told I would need for the class. I drove to the university, planning to get there at least fifteen minutes early. I pulled into the student parking area and looked around. Maybe I had the wrong day. The lot was almost empty.

  I grabbed my stuff and headed for the hall where the class was being held. I had not expected it to look like a ghost town. The advisor had made it sound like the short semesters were a popular choice for students. I clearly had the wrong idea.