Teach Me New Tricks

by Parker, Ali

  When we got home, Olin went to his room and I went into the study to check emails. As my eyes scanned through the many new emails I had, I immediately spotted the one from Leila. I quickly opened it.

  Hi, Christopher. I am available today if you’d like to get together to go over the information you missed instead of sending the notes in an email. Let me know. Thanks, Professor Bell.

  My fingers hovered over the keyboard. As much as I would have liked to meet up with her, I didn’t want to leave the house just when it felt like Olin and I were making headway. I quickly emailed her back and let her know I wasn’t able to do it until later in the week.

  The class would have to wait. Everything would have to wait. I was going to be there, just in case Olin decided to come out of his room. I had to be around. He was too used to me just being gone. I had enough to do around the house to keep myself busy.

  Chapter 12

  Leila

  I hung the picture I had picked up at the store the day before and took a step back to make sure it was even. I felt like I was constantly changing the house. It was never quite good enough. I’d get it all put together and then I was ready for a change. Truthfully, I felt a little unsettled, like I was still looking for the right fit.

  I hadn’t found it yet.

  I heard a knock on the door and assumed it would be Kami. I didn’t have a lot of company just dropping by for a visit on a Sunday afternoon.

  She took one look at the hammer in my hand and shook her head. “I’m afraid to ask.”

  “Just a new picture,” I assured her.

  “Mom’s cooking a big dinner tonight and asked me to invite you,” she said, flopping into one of my chairs.

  “Hell yeah. I could use some good home cooking.”

  “She’s always cooking, and her door is always open, you know that,” she said.

  I sighed. “I know, but I don’t want to appear like a stray dog, scratching on the door for some scraps.”

  She laughed. “My mom would happily leave a doggy bag on the porch for you. She loves you more than me some days.”

  I winked. “That’s because I’m the good one. You gave her gray hair.”

  She waved a hand through her hair. “I’ve kept her young all these years. If I was a good girl, she would get bored. I want to make sure she’s always surprised.”

  “You’ve done that,” I told her.

  She grinned. “My work is done. What are you going to be doing all day?” she asked looking around the tiny living room.

  I sighed. “Laundry. Painting that bedroom door—finally.”

  She groaned. “You’re always painting.”

  “I always say I’m going to paint, and then it never gets done. I’m sick of looking at the one brown door in the house. I have a free day and I swear it is going to get done today.”

  She nodded. “Sure, it is. Dinner is at the usual time. I’ll see you then.”

  “Where are you going?” I asked.

  “I’m getting out of here before you ask me to help you.”

  I burst into laughter. “You’re such a pal.”

  “Hey, I’ll help you bury a body in the woods but I’m not about to mess up this outfit with paint splotches. I hate painting.”

  I rolled my eyes. “It’s not that hard.”

  She shook her head. “Nope. I’m marrying rich. I will have people to paint my house and make it pretty. I will have fancy designers that hang my pictures and make it look fabulous.”

  “You can’t commit to an uncommitted relationship. How do you ever expect to settle down and marry someone?”

  She shrugged. “When I find the right man, I’ll know.”

  “When you find the right, rich man?” I corrected.

  “Same thing,” she said with a grin.

  “Go away and let the peasants work. I’ll see you tonight.”

  She left, leaving me with my never-ending to-do list. I was looking forward to dinner with Nancy Gaston. She had been my surrogate mother. She was the closest thing to family I had. I had no family of my own. Nancy had essentially taken me in back in high school and had been there for me for as long as I could remember.

  I felt a little guilty I hadn’t visited her in a few weeks. I could blame work and life, but that wasn’t fair. I had to make a better effort. She had sacrificed a lot of her time for me, the least I could do was show up at her door from time to time.

  Right then, I committed to being a better surrogate daughter. Nancy deserved a lot more than I had been giving her. With my mind made up, I focused on the many tasks I needed to get done to finally finish the renovation of my house. It seemed like there was always something else that needed doing. I was convinced the house would never actually be completed to my satisfaction.

  I spent the day doing everything but painting the damn door. The thing was destined to be the same ugly brown it had been for fifty years. There was always something else more important. Truthfully, I hated painting as much as Kami did. I just didn’t have the luxury of actually not doing it. I had to do it, or it wouldn’t get done.

  I showered and changed, getting ready for a dinner I was very much looking forward to after a long day of housework. I loved Nancy’s cooking. She had the true Texas woman thing going on and could out cook Paula Deen any day of the week.

  I parked in the driveway, noticing Kami was already there. I knocked once on the door before letting myself in. I was immediately assailed by the scent of chicken, biscuits, and her infamous gravy. My stomach rumbled with excitement.

  “Hello,” I called out, walking through the large farmhouse and into the kitchen.

  It was an old house, at least a hundred years. The Gastons had done some updating, but it still had the original floorplan with lots of closed off rooms. The kitchen was through an arched doorway, cutting it off from the living room.

  “In here,” Nancy called out.

  I followed the smells, anxious to get my hands on one of the buttermilk biscuits slathered with real butter and some of her homemade strawberry jam. “It smells so good,” I said, walking over to the stove and giving her a quick kiss on the cheek.

  She winked. “You know it’s gonna’ be good, honey. Would I ever make something that wasn’t?”

  “Definitely not,” I said with a laugh.

  “You need to come over earlier and let me show you how to cook, darlin’. You need to be good in the kitchen if you want to snare yourself a good man.”

  “I thought I only had to be good in the bedroom,” I said with a laugh. “This man thing feels like a lot more work than it’s worth.”

  “Oh honey, when it’s done right, it is absolutely worth every burnt finger in the kitchen when your man is ready to kiss it all better,” she drawled.

  Kami walked into the kitchen, shaking her head and rolling her eyes. “Mama, I swear, you need to get laid.”

  “Kami Gaston! Don’t you dare speak like that in my house!”

  “You’re the one talking about having a man kiss all your bits and pieces,” she argued.

  “But I speak like a lady, you talk like a trollop.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “She has a point,” I interjected.

  “Shut up. Kiss ass.”

  “Kami!” Nancy scolded. “I swear I didn’t raise you to talk like a trucker.”

  “Oh, Mom, please,” Kami groaned. “I’ve heard you and the ladies from your so-called book club. You guys are dirtier than a boys’ locker room.”

  She frowned at her daughter. “First of all, young lady, you shouldn’t be eavesdropping. Second of all, we’re all old married women.”

  “Mom, you don’t think I’m a virgin, do you?” Kami asked with feigned horror.

  Nancy scowled. “I swear I don’t know where I went wrong with you. I blame your father, bless his soul. He ruined you. His background was troubled. I should have known better, but I guess no good girl can resist a bad boy.”

  “I can,” I said. “I do not like the bad boys. I lik
e a man who is stable, mature, and isn’t going to be a jerk.”

  “Not me, I will take a bad boy any day of the week,” Kami said. “I want one that is rough and tough and can rock my world.”

  “Oh heavens, Kami,” Nancy scolded. “What is wrong with you?”

  Kami burst into laughter. “Oh, Mama, don’t act like your heart doesn’t race when you see one of those Harley’s roll through town with a handsome fella’ on it.”

  Nancy blushed a little, shooing her daughter out of her way as she carried a big bowl full of fried chicken to the table. “You’re terrible. Just a terrible, terrible daughter. I’m so glad I have Leila to fall back on.”

  “I’m just like you, Mama,” Kami said with a grin.

  I looked at Kami’s dark hair and then her mother’s blonde hair. Granted, Nancy’s blonde was helped with a box of Clairol, but they couldn’t look more different. I had never met her father, but I suspected she took after him. Personality and all.

  We all sat down at the table, digging into the delicious meal. I loved Nancy’s cooking. I blamed her for the extra weight I carried around. There was no declining the woman’s food. It was too good to pass up.

  “How is school going Leila?” Nancy asked, dabbing at her mouth with a pristine white cloth napkin.

  I nodded. “Good. I picked up a mini-mester during the break.”

  She made a clicking sound with her tongue. “You need to find yourself a good man, so you don’t have to work so much.”

  “I like working.”

  She made a face that looked like she smelled something bad. “Oh sweetie, you don’t have to lie to me.”

  I smiled. “But I do like it. I like what I teach, and I like meeting new people.”

  “And handsome students,” Kami chimed in. “Handsome, older students.”

  “Oh? Is there a man in your life?” she asked.

  “No, Kami is being ridiculous.”

  “Kami is always ridiculous, but in this case, she might be on to something. Is there a man you’re interested in?”

  I shook my head. “No. Definitely not.”

  “You’re too pretty to be single,” Nancy said.

  “What about me?” Kami chimed in.

  “Oh, dear child, there isn’t a man brave enough to take you on,” Nancy said.

  Kami’s mouth dropped open. “Mom!”

  “Oh dear, you know I love you, but you are about the farthest thing from a good southern woman. You need a man that can handle your dark humor and your wild ways.”

  I nodded in agreement. “She’s right.”

  Kami grinned, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I suppose I do. I might have to find me one of those guys on a Harley, but I want my man scruffy and tatted and I want him to pick me up and push me against a wall—”

  “Kami, you stop right there,” Nancy warned. “Not at my dinner table. I don’t think so.”

  I burst into laughter. Kami knew how much it bugged her mother to hear her talk so wantonly. She did it to goad her. I loved their relationship. I admired it. I wished I would have had a mom to have a relationship with. I had been a foster kid from a very young age, never getting adopted and bouncing from one place to the next until I finally aged out. I remembered the day I turned eighteen. I felt like I was finally free.

  I had not looked back. I had taken advantage of the free tuition and gotten myself an education, making damn sure I would never be dependent on another person again. Maybe it was why I feared commitment. I didn’t want to need anyone.

  “Thank you for coming, Leila, and don’t feel like you can only come by when Kami’s here. Hell, I would prefer you to come by without her if you could arrange it.”

  I burst into laughter. The look on Kami’s face was priceless. “Gee, Mom, I feel the love.”

  It was their way with each other. I knew they loved each other dearly. I gave Nancy a hug and walked out, Kami behind me. “Thanks for inviting me. It was nice to see your mom again.”

  “Stop. You know she’s serious when she says you’re welcome anytime. You don’t need me to stop by and visit her. You’re very much like her daughter. You’re a part of our twisted little family whether you like it or not.”

  “Thank you,” I said and gave her a quick hug. “I’ll see you later.”

  She waved as I got into my car and drove home. I wanted my own family someday, but to get to that part of life, I needed to find a man. I wasn’t ready to do that. The drumming of my biological clock always seemed much louder whenever I thought about my future and how lonely it would be if I didn’t start putting in some effort into the man department.

  Chapter 13

  Christopher

  I parked my truck, checked my watch and cringed. I was thirty minutes early. My reprieve with Olin had been extremely brief. Saturday had been great. When the kid emerged downstairs Sunday morning, it was like something out of the exorcist. He’d been possessed by a demon. While the attitude had sucked and the day had been generally unpleasant, it had been more of a typical teen unpleasantness. That I expected.

  Didn’t make it any easier, but I expected to deal with some rotten days now and again. I had sent him to school, damn near begging him not to start any shit, and headed for my own school. The traffic had been light and now I was sitting in my truck trying to decide what to do.

  Coffee sounded like a good option. There was a small café on campus that served about a million different kinds of caffeine. That’s where I could kill some time before I went to class. I didn’t want the teacher to think I was trying to suck up by showing up so damn early. I was already feeling a little ridiculous after asking her to lunch. She’d let me down easy, but it reminded me I was not used to the whole single life thing.

  I hadn’t meant to hit on her. I was used to having lunch with women all the time for business. I never had to worry about anyone thinking I was hitting on them. Most people in my world knew I was happily married. Was. Key word.

  I made my way to the coffee stand and ordered a plain coffee. You would have thought I ordered a severed head. “Thanks,” I mumbled, taking the coffee and turning to find an available table.

  I had just sat down when a familiar voice said hello. I looked up to find Alan coming towards me. I smiled, gesturing for him to take the available seat at the table. “Hi.”

  “Are you early on purpose or were you in a hurry to leave your house?” Alan asked.

  I laughed. “Definitely the latter.”

  He nodded. “I understand that sentiment.”

  “I’ve got a sixteen-year-old son,” I said.

  He winced. “Say no more. I have been there and done that and am about to do it all over again.”

  “I keep waiting for the part where it gets better. Isn’t that what you’re going to tell me?”

  He shook his head. “Nope. I’d be lying if I did.”

  I groaned. “How old are your kids?”

  “Twenty-four, twenty-two and fourteen.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Wow, that’s a spread.”

  He smiled. “Second marriage. You have just the one?”

  “Yes. My wife, late wife, and I tried for more, but it just wasn’t in the cards for us.”

  He slowly nodded. “Sorry to hear—on both accounts.”

  “Thank you. She’s only been gone a year. My son was very close to his mother and it hasn’t been easy on him. I feel like he hates me most days.”

  “That part is normal. I imagine the added stress amplifies all that teenage angst he must be feeling. My older kids were very young when my wife and I divorced but there were some very hard days. Lots of rebellion and anger. They hated me. They hated my ex-wife and I’m ashamed to admit there were some very bad days when things were said that shouldn’t have been said.”

  I winced. “That’s hard. How long were you and your first wife married?”

  He sighed. “Six years. Six very long, tumultuous years.”

  “It wasn’t a good marriage?”

&nbs
p; He shrugged. “I don’t think so. It wasn’t terrible, but I don’t think we really loved each other. We had our first son and it was okay for a while, then it got bad. Then we had our daughter and we both tried to make it work, but it was just not meant to be. I worked a lot and she was tired of carrying all the weight at home. My kids resented me. They blamed me for breaking up the family and they were probably right. I probably was to blame.”

  I grimaced. “I can relate to that. My wife was very understanding. I probably took advantage of that, now that I look back.”

  “It works for some families. It didn’t work for mine.”

  “You’ve remarried?” I asked.

  He smiled. His whole face lighting up. “I did. She’s a wonderful woman. She’s my other half. We clicked from the moment we met. She’s mature, kind, smart, and she doesn’t take shit from anyone. She was the woman I needed in my life. She made me a better man. She definitely made me a better father. I think my older kids might be a little resentful of my youngest son. He got the new and improved me. They got the old me.”

  “They couldn’t have been too old when your last was born,” I commented.

  “No, but there were some rough times. We get along and we’ve made a lot of progress in our relationship, but it isn’t always easy. My wife helped facilitate the rebuilding of my relationship with my kids.”

  “How did the ex take it?”

  He winced. “Not so good, but she knew it was what was best for the kids. I finally felt like I was doing the daddy thing right and I think she was pissed about that.”

  “I think my wife would be happy to see me trying, but she would not be happy to see me failing.”

  He studied me. “I don’t think you’re failing. You don’t strike me as the kind of man who fails at anything. You might not be doing it perfect, but none of us do. It helps to have a good woman to guide you and slap you upside the head when you’re really screwing up.”

  I chuckled. “I know she’s probably looking for something to smack me with.”