He looked at me hopefully.
“Well, um, thank you for letting me know. I’m sorry that you’re having to go through all that stuff, man.”
Justin nodded.
“I was about to check in with Maura. I’ll be sure to tell her we talked. So, I’ll see you Wednesday then?” I reached out and shook his hand. That seemed like the best way to conclude the conversation.
“Thanks, man.” He sounded relieved.
He gripped the straps of his backpack and walked away. I suddenly felt overwhelmed with thoughts about Justin and his life that had never crossed my mind before. How many times had he been separated from his mom because of drugs or something else? Did he have any other family? Would he ever graduate? The list of questions continued as I walked into the center to find Maura, convinced she was the only person who would make me feel better about all these new questions.
I found her standing by her desk scrolling through her phone. She was looking very professional in dress pants and a blue short sleeved blouse with her hair up in a bun. I looked like a teenager compared to her. I almost felt like one too, seeking out her guidance. I knocked quietly on the open door.
“Hey.” She put her phone down. “Ashland said you wanted to donate all this stuff,” she gestured to the box of paints and brushes on her desk. “Are you sure you want to do that?”
“Yeah, I’m sure. It was just sitting in a closet at my mom’s house.”
“But what if you decide you want to paint again? I mean, this all probably cost a lot.”
It registered just how much money I had wasted anytime I had heard of a different paint or brush that was supposedly better for a different technique – meanwhile, there were people like Justin getting thrown out of their houses by their own mothers.
“Maura, it’s fine. There’s no reason for me to have all that anymore. There never really was. I kept a few things.”
“Okay, well, we appreciate it.” She looked at me. “You okay?”
“Uh, yeah,” I looked away, feeling stupid that the nature of Justin’s reality – and the reality of pretty much all the kids she worked with – was just now hitting me. “I ran into Justin outside.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, he apologized for last Wednesday and said he wanted to come back.” I finally made eye contact with her and she knew he had filled me in on the reason for his behavior. She reached out and touched my arm gently, moving past me to close the door.
“What did he share with you?” she asked, I assumed to keep from telling me more than I was supposed to know. The possibility of there being even more shitty information made me feel even more overwhelmed.
“Just that his mom was on drugs – again. And threw him out and that she was dating a drug dealer that Eric supposedly did something to. But that it was no excuse for how he acted and he was hoping I would let him come back to the garage.”
“Kind of sucks when you find out some of the stuff that happens to these kids outside of here.” She looked at me understandingly, letting me know that my reaction was normal, even though stories like his were probably commonplace to her.
“I think of all the petty shit I was worried about or pissed off about when I was seventeen. My biggest concern was that I didn’t want to work at my dad’s shop on the weekends. Because why? I wanted to go paint fucking sunsets on the Sound. And some other kid’s getting kicked out of his home by his own mother because she prefers getting high to having her own son around.” The contrast left me depressed. “God, I am such an asshole,” I declared, shaking my head.
Maura shrugged. “And when I was seventeen, I was devastated that my parents wouldn’t send me on a class trip to Rome. Teenagers are incredibly self-centered and dramatic, even the at-risk ones,” she said matter-of-factly. “Our perspective is based on our environment and what we’re exposed to. I wouldn’t be too hard on teenage Thomas. He didn’t know he was an asshole,” she kidded, trying to lighten the mood.
“That doesn’t change the shitty situation that kid is in, through no fault of his own,” I countered, surprised at how frustrated I sounded.
“You’re right, it doesn’t. But sitting around and reflecting about how shitty his life is doesn’t really help either. I mean, it’s good to appreciate that things don’t come as easily for these kids, but you have to trust in their resiliency. Otherwise it just reinforces the message that things are hopeless and there’s no reason to try.”
I looked at her, seeking something more comforting. She read my expression.
“That’s why it’s great that we have a vocational program that’s training Justin and others to have an employable skill, so hopefully they’ll be in a better situation someday. Even if we could only find an asshole like you to teach it.”
She looked at me, waiting for me to be amused. I wasn’t offended, but I couldn’t seem to smile.
“I’m sorry it’s not like working on a car. There’s no clear answer how to fix it.”
“Well,” I sighed, “speaking of fixing cars, I should probably get back to work.”
I paused, wondering if she was going to hug me. After all the time I had spent relentlessly teasing her about her sensitivity, I longed for it in that moment. I was too proud to admit it though. I already felt like an idiot for not recognizing the severity of the lives of the kids I had been working with; no need to pathetically ask for a hug on top of it.
“Oh!” Maura exclaimed, her eyes lighting up. A grin spread across her face.
“What?” A smile finally appeared on my face when I looked at her.
“I have your prize!” she explained, opening a drawer.
Maura pulled out a thin eight by ten canvas and handed it to me. It was a paint-by-number picture of three unicorns by a waterfall. I was speechless.
“I wanted to give you one of my old latch-n-hooks, but apparently our garage flooded two years ago and all the yarn got moldy, so they had to be thrown out. You’re lucky my mom stored all of my best work in my old room.”
“Yes, lucky,” I agreed sarcastically. “So, this is what you consider a sexy prize?” I laughed. After how embarrassed she’d been about the text, I was surprised she had even followed through on giving me something.
“Um, yeah. I mean, what’s sexier than unicorns?” she said as if it were obvious.
I laughed and then impulsively pulled her in for a hug under the guise of thanking her.
“Thank you,” I said, making sure not to hold on for too long. She backed away. She knew I was thanking her more for her counsel than anything.
“You’re welcome,” she said quietly, and then crossed her arms. “So, I will see you Wednesday then.”
I nodded and opened the door.
“Have a good day.” I looked at her one last time before leaving. My instinct had been right. She had made me feel better.
***
I had been so focused on working in the garage with the group on Wednesday that I hadn’t thought that much about going out with Ashland afterwards. The fact that we were having sushi could have contributed to it, but it was also that the work we were doing on the engine was fairly advanced. After Monday, I had a newfound perspective on the value of the training I was providing. I was glad that Justin was back, but I had to accept that I would probably never see Eric again and wouldn’t ever know why.
Ashland quietly walked into the garage when we were wrapping up for the evening. She joined Sydney on the counter, making sure to lock eyes with me. I was careful not to stare back for too long.
“Is this thing ever going to run again?” Juan asked, exasperated.
“We’ll replace the radiator hose next week and then try it out,” I shared my plan.
“Then we can drive it?”
“You got a permit, Juan?” Sydney asked, shutting down Juan’s excitement. Judging by his expression, he didn’t. “I suggest you work
on that with your case manager before you break any laws.”
“You’re my case manager,” he threw back at her.
“Well then I guess we have something to talk about next time we meet.” She hopped down from the counter. “Make sure you guys put everything back.”
I closed the hood of the car and answered a few lingering questions before dismissing everyone. The kids dispersed and Sydney stepped outside the garage, taking a moment to talk with River. Ashland continued to sit on the counter while I took inventory of the tools.
“Will you be wearing that out tonight?” she asked about my coveralls, still eyeing me. I walked over to the counter, locking up the tool cabinet next to it, and rested my hand on the counter next to her.
“You seem overly interested in my coveralls.”
“What can I say? The blue-collar thing does it for me.” She touched the name patch on my chest.
A smile slowly stretched across her face as she looked back into my eyes. Once again, I thought she was going to kiss me. There were still teenagers hanging out within eye shot of us, so I backed away.
“Well, unfortunately for you I brought a change of clothes.” I started to walk out of the garage. She hopped down and followed me out. “I would look pretty ridiculous eating sushi while wearing this.” I pulled the garage door down and locked it.
“Well, if I wasn’t so hungry, I’d suggest we skip the sushi and go straight to the end of the night.”
I let out a laugh, unable to think of a clever response. “I’m going to go change. I’ll meet you by my truck?”
She nodded and headed toward the parking lot.
I went into the center and cleaned myself up. After changing into my jeans and a short sleeve polo, I stepped out of the bathroom and ran into Sydney in the hallway.
“Going out with Ashland tonight?”
“Yeah, we’re going to go get a bite to eat.”
She looked like she had something else she wanted to say so I waited.
“Look, Thomas, it’s not really my philosophy to get into people’s business…” she paused, “but, I have to remind you of the official program policy that certain types of relationships between staff and volunteers aren’t allowed. But you guys are just getting food together, right?” She hinted at my need to agree with her.
“Yeah, yeah, of course.”
Technically, it wasn’t really a lie at that point, but after Ashland’s comment by the garage, I would most likely sleep with her.
“Ashland’s about four weeks away from finishing her internship here. I really don’t want to have to dismiss all the work she’s done this year should you guys start hanging out. So just make sure if and when you guys hang out, you do it off site.”
I put together that when Sydney said ‘hanging out’ she meant ‘sex or other physical contact.’
“She strikes me as the type who might get the idea that it would be exciting to hang out here, and I don’t want to deal with that shit. Mostly because of the paperwork involved.”
“Just so we’re clear, you have a ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ policy when it comes to me hanging out with Ashland?”
“I know, the irony is not lost on me,” she admitted with a sigh. “All right then, good talk.” She patted me on the arm and walked back to her office.
They would probably have me stop volunteering if a sexual relationship with Ashland became public knowledge. From the little I knew about Ashland, she would be anything but discrete if we slept together. Keeping it a secret seemed improbable. The kids’ training would come to an end. All of their hard work wouldn’t matter because of my inability to keep it in my pants. It was too big of a risk for what was at stake. So that settled it. I wasn’t getting laid tonight.
It seemed best to wait and see what happened after dinner before breaking the news to Ashland. Despite her consistent flirting, I figured it would be presumptuous to announce that I was going to hold out on her before she had officially offered to go there. I mean, who starts off a date that way? Probably Maura. Okay, so what normal person starts off a date that way?
Going out with a woman when I wasn’t completely consumed with the question of whether I was going to close the deal really took the pressure off. Putting all my effort into trying to impress a woman to the point of taking her clothes off could get exhausting. Luckily Ashland was an interesting person, so focusing on getting to know her better didn’t seem like a chore.
She grew up in a commune in Portland with two hippy parents; her mother was an artist and her father was a writer. She was named after the town of Ashland in Oregon, where she was conceived during the Shakespeare Festival. It amused me that she knew this about herself and shared it in such a casual manner. I, on the other hand, had absolutely no desire to ever know where and when I, or either of my siblings, were conceived.
Her undergraduate degree was in Psychology from Evergreen College. Her alma mater wasn’t surprising after hearing about her bohemian upbringing. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to do after graduating with her Masters in Social Work, but wasn’t stressed about it because she had another year of school to figure it out. I kept asking question after question about her, until she pointed out that we had been done eating for over an hour and were still at the restaurant.
She said she needed to get home because she had an early class the next day. Maybe her previous allusions to fooling around were all bravado. I wouldn’t have to make any sort of announcement about how I couldn’t sleep with her because it was against the rules. Good, I had worried about how lame I was going to sound anyway. We pulled up to her apartment building and I started to say goodnight.
“Well, you know,” Ashland said while unbuckling her seatbelt, “the night doesn’t have to end.” She slid over next to me.
“I thought you had an early class?” My lips were inches from hers.
“I just wanted to get you out of the restaurant and back to my place,” she admitted before pressing her lips against mine.
I kissed her back. She unbuckled my seatbelt and then started to kiss my neck, moving up to my ear.
“You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about this,” she whispered. “And usually I picture us in this truck.”
It was quite a revelation to know that Ashland had gone beyond checking me out to actually fantasizing about me. I pulled her head back so I could reclaim her mouth, my big speech about having to delay sex with her no longer at the forefront of my mind.
“I’d rather finish this upstairs tonight. We can save the truck for another time,” she said in between kisses.
Her interjection made me pause long enough to remember what I was supposed to be doing – or rather, not doing. I backed away. Damn it. Why did I have to start being responsible now?
“What?” She stared at me, looking confused.
“We can’t do this,” I announced.
“What? Why? Shit, do you have a girlfriend?” she jumped to the most obvious conclusion.
“No,” I shook my head and turned back to the steering wheel, trying to avoid looking at her in order to stick to my plan. “It’s the youth center. They have a policy that staff and volunteers can’t have inappropriate relationships.”
“What’s inappropriate about two consenting adults having sex?” she asked, mirroring my usual sentiment.
“If anyone found out, you could lose credit for your internship. I could be fired from volunteering. It would end the voc-ed program, at least for a while,” I went over the consequences.
“But who says anyone has to find out?” She started to move back in.
“I really care about the voc-ed program,” I managed to get out before she started kissing me again. “I don’t want to do anything that would screw it up for those kids.”
Ashland sighed heavily and rested back against the seat, crossing her arms.
�
��Leave it to a Catholic organization to put stupid stipulations on people’s sex lives.”
We sat in silence for a moment. I reached out and grabbed her hand.
“It’s just until your internship ends.”
“Ugh, that’s like four weeks.” Her annoyance was clear.
“I understand if you don’t want to wait it out, but I don’t mind just hanging out for the next month.” I was being honest.
“You realize this shit about putting the kids first and wanting to date without getting laid for the next month only makes you more attractive?”
“What can I say? I’m a catch.”
Ashland let out a whimper of frustration and sat up straight.
“Well, I guess I have no choice but to wait. It’s those damn coveralls.” She turned back to me after she got out of the truck. “I’ll see you next week.”
“Good night, Ashland.” I didn’t walk her to her door. My virtue would only go so far.
MAURA
My stupid phone woke me up. I reached out to my night stand, fumbling around to grab it, but still refused to lift my head. Ugh, I’d never realized how annoying my ringtone was. Finally, I got a hold of the damn phone. It was 6:34 a.m. and it was my dad.
“Hello?” I murmured. Suddenly my ear was filled with the blaring sound of my parents singing Happy Birthday. I pulled the phone away from my ear as I tolerated the gesture.
“Happy Birthday, Maurie!” my dad exclaimed. “Your mom and I are on our way to work and wanted to be the first to wish you a happy birthday–”
“Just like we’ve done since you were born!” my mom interrupted.
It was true. Ever since I’d moved out of the house, my parents made a point to call me as early as possible on my birthday so that they could maintain their title as the first people to wish me a happy birthday. Every year. Lucky for them, at twenty-six, my current streak of spinsterhood with no one to wake up next to had helped them keep the coveted title.
“Mmmhmm.” I kept my eyes closed. “Thank you,” I managed to get out.
“Do you feel older?” my dad predictably asked.
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