The Knock

by Emme Burton

  “K!” they shout back, loud enough for everyone in the cul-de-sac to hear.

  The door barely shuts behind us when Mitch pushes me up against it firmly, takes my face in his hands and kisses me. It is not sweet. It is not cute. It is deep and probing and sets my thighs on fire. My nipples harden and my core clenches. My lips reciprocate but I’m so overwhelmed, I can’t move my arms. They just dangle at my sides, heavy and unmoving. He may have actually paralyzed me with his kiss.

  Mitch breaks the kiss and leans his forehead against mine. We are both panting and breathless.

  “I love Van and Shane, but I have been aching to be alone with you.” Mitch moves his hips and presses the straining in his jeans against mine as he says “aching.”

  I nod. Mitch grasps my hand and pulls me down the hall to my bedroom.

  It seems we’re getting right to it.

  Mitch doesn’t stop when we get in the bedroom. He keeps walking, tugging me to the bathroom.

  “I think we both need a little relaxation, Posey. So, we are going to take a bath in that great big tub of yours.”

  I pull back on his hand. My bathroom is a mess. “Wait, I haven’t used the tub in a few weeks.”

  “I know. I can tell by the piles of folded clothes in it.”

  I’m about to stop him when Mitch turns on the water. I peek in the tub and exhale. The clothes have been removed.

  Mitch checks the water temperature and adds some lavender bath salts. He straightens and spins back to me. He runs his hands up and down my arms.

  “Well, I think it’s time for our first, of many to come, baths.”

  Mitch grasps the bottom of my T-shirt and pulls it over my head. He’s undressing me for my bath. It’s sweet and hot.

  The T-shirt gone, Mitch trails kisses from behind my ear, down my neck and across my shoulder.

  I regain the use of my limbs well enough to return the favor of removing Mitch’s gray Henley.

  I continue to rid him of the rest of his clothes, kissing the bared skin after each article is discarded. Mitch is successfully doing the same with mine until we’re both down to our underwear when I notice the tub is getting really full.

  “Mitch… the water!”

  He quickly shuts off the tap, and with a slow scorching look over his shoulder, reaches down and pushes his boxer briefs down and off in a single movement. Mitch steps into the tub then extends his hand to me. He’s erect. I can’t help noticing.

  I slip out of my panties and toss them behind me, attempting a carefree vibe. Really, I can’t keep my eyes off him. His broad shoulders, rippled stomach and those v’s that direct my attention right to…

  Mitch sits and positions me in front of him with my back to his front. The warmth of the water, the smell of lavender and his arms wrapped around me, slipping up and down my sides, occasionally moving high enough to graze my breasts, relaxes and excites.

  One of Mitch’s hands slides down to find my most sensitive spot. The other cups and massages my breast. I squirm and rotate my pelvis in response to his touch. The build comes on slowly but then notches up in waves. I pitch my head back and rest it on Mitch’s shoulder. He turns and brings his lips crashing down on mine, kissing me into a fervor as my body tumbles into a spasming, mind-blowing orgasm. If he wasn’t kissing me, I’m sure all the neighbors would have heard me moaning with joy.

  Pushing myself away, I turn to face Mitch and lower myself onto him, splashing gallons of water out of the tub and onto the floor.

  Mitch wraps his arms around my waist and seats me completely on him. I kiss him, and when he opens his mouth I suckle and swipe at his tongue. All while I ride and rock him until he grips my hips and thrusts into me while pulling me down.

  His head falls back as he groans, “PO-sey!”

  My core pulses around him as he lets go.

  We’ve been in the bath so long getting dirty, we are now squeaky clean.

  ***

  Cuddled in bed with Mitch, I’m far more at ease. We’re spooning. Me in one of his concert T-shirts and him in a pair of soft joggers. Without underwear, I must note.

  Mitch strokes some hair behind my ear, kisses the lobe and whispers, “Remember when I said I had a second question for you?”

  “Yeah, that was a while ago. I thought maybe you’d already asked it.”

  “No, I’ve been waiting for the right moment.”

  “Oh.” What could be so important he needed to wait for the right moment?

  “You know the concert at the end of the semester?”

  “Yes.”

  “Van is playing in it.”

  “He is?”

  “Yes. Posey, can we go… together… as a couple?

  I pause.

  “What about…?” I sit up in bed.

  Mitch sits up seconds after me, cups my shoulders and turns me to face him. “Don’t finish that sentence. Who cares what anyone thinks? Anyone who matters is on board with this.” He waves his hand in a circle between us. “Your kids, your parents, hell, even my parents and they haven’t met you yet.”

  “What about the school moms? They talk. I know they do.”

  “The hell with them! They’re just jealous because you are sexy as fuck. You could be, like, twenty-five years old.”

  “But I’m not.”

  “So, we should what? Wait? Until I’m twenty-six or twenty-eight or thirty? What would be appropriate, Posey? What would be right? What is the rule?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “No, we’re not waiting, because I’m in love with you now. And I’m not wasting any time. If you’ve taught me one thing, it’s don’t waste time away from the one you love.”

  “You love me?”

  “Yes.”

  I don’t say it back. I change the subject. I have to be sure before I say those words. “Do you want kids?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Because I’m thirty-eight and I don’t know how much longer I have to do that.”

  “I’m not thinking about kids, but if I was I would only want them with you. And if we didn’t, that would be OK, too, because the kids you have are already great. I could easily think of them as mine. Sort of already do.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, Posey. This hesitancy isn’t about Donovan, is it? This isn’t about feeling wrong about… me… us?”

  “No. No, no, no. I’m ashamed to say this but… this sounds so bad… but I don’t feel him anymore. Actually, after he died, I never did. I missed him, but I never felt him. His spirit. People told me I’d feel him after he was gone, but I didn’t. I never thought I’d seen him just around the corner or in another’s face… until I met you.”

  “What?”

  “I know it sounds nuts, but I saw things I loved and missed about him in you. I see all the things that made me fall in love with Donovan in you. Is that weird?”

  “Little bit.”

  “Mostly, I love how much you love my kids and the way your eyes crinkle up when you smile. Like his did. Oh, I’m making this so weird.” A single tear falls from my eye.

  Mitch scoops me up in his arms. “It’s OK, I’m OK with weird. If you can be OK with breaking the rules, even though they’re really stupid rules.”

  “I know they are. I can be OK with that. Mitch, you know it’s not just that, right. Not just that you remind me of him. Uhhhhh… how do I say this? It’s the ways you’re not him. It’s more. I feel…” I take a deep breath and let it all spill out. “It’s just you. I love the way you’re honest and open with your feelings. How you let them show. To me. To everyone. I love how I am when I’m with you. I’m better—a better mom, a better me because of you.” I finally wipe the tear away before it drips off my cheek.

  Mitch’s eyes are wet and he smiles crookedly. “Posey, baby, it’s OK. I know. I know. I can tell how you feel about me. I’m just checking, but are you saying you… love me?”

  “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying. I love you, too.”
<
br />   “Finally! I thought you’d never say it back.”

  Chapter 15

  Frantic, repeated knocks on the front door penetrate the quiet provided by my noise-cancelling headphones. I rip them off my head and the world becomes instantly loud and chaotic.

  “Mom! Mom! Come out! Where are you? Shane got beat up on the bus!”

  Stepping out of my studio, I look down the hall to the front of the house as Valley, Van and Mitch carrying Shane in his arms tumble into the foyer. My heart stops for a microbeat. They’re followed by Valley’s kids, one of them crying and the other loudly describing what happened.

  “It was Rafe Walters.”

  Valley turns to Aiden. “Emily. I mean, Mrs. Walters’s kid?”

  Aiden nods.

  “Figures,” Valley comments, bitterly.

  I rush to Shane perched on the kitchen counter where Mitch placed him. He’s bawling, snot and blood both pouring from his nose, and his left eye starting to swell and color.

  “Oh my God, sweetheart, Shaney, what happened? Is that who hurt you?”

  Shane gulps and sniffles over and over. He can’t catch his breath, but he nods yes. Van, Valley and her kids are all trying to explain at the same time. Mitch stands next to Shane, one arm around him supporting him and the other patting his knee. He quietly repeats “Shh, shh, shh” to Shane in rhythm to calm him down.

  Shane’s voice is small when he finally speaks. So soft, I can’t hear him.

  “Everyone! Shut up!” I roar from deep in my lungs. It does the trick. The room silences.

  I take command. “Take another breath, baby. Take your time. Van, go get the first aid kit. Valley, find Emily Walters’s phone number.”

  Shane takes three more deep breaths and finally speaks loud enough to be heard. “Rafe wa-wa-wa-was saying mean things.”

  “What mean things?”

  “Mean things about you… He called you a cougar and a cradle robber. I said my mom is not a wild animal… or a baby stealer. I don’t know what he meant, but his voice was mean.”

  “Oh, Shane.”

  I look up at Mitch.

  His face is serious and his eyes glisten with tears. Then his face turn reds and he looks away. A muscle at his temple flexes. He stops patting Shane’s knee and pulls his arm to his side, tensing and balling up his fist. “God dammit,” he whispers.

  Shane continues, “Then I told him to shut up and if my mom was a cougar, his mom was a baboon!”

  Valley laughs, a little too loudly.

  I shoot her a look.

  “Then he called me a dummy and said my mom was dating the substitute music teacher, Mr. Morgan, who’s only like nineteen. He said you were an old cougar and Mitch was fresh meat! That’s when I went to hit him, but only barely got him on the arm and he, he…” Shane’s voice breaks and he swallows down a sob. “He punched me across the nose and eye. So hard.”

  “I didn’t see any of that,” Van pipes in. “I was just getting home when I saw Shane all bloodied get off the bus. Valley was there and caught him. Mitch was just pulling into the driveway and saw us and ran over and got Shane.”

  I look up at Mitch. “You were subbing at Sunview Elementary?”

  Mitch, who’s been very quiet but still attentive to Shane replies, “Yes, they called early this morning with the job for a few days.”

  Shane smiles, even with his battered nose and puffy eye. “At the end of the day, when I was headed to the bus, I saw him in the hall. Mitch gave me a high five and said, ‘See you tonight.’ I told my friends, ‘That’s Mitch. My mom’s boyfriend.’”

  Valley whistles. “Whoa!”

  Now, I freeze and look away. My little guy is so perceptive. He knew, even before we said anything.

  “Rafe isn’t very nice anyway. He’s one of the big kids on the bus. He just started teasing me for no reason,” Shane says, finishing the story.

  I question aloud, “Where would a kid that age hear that stuff?”

  “Emily,” Valley answers flatly. “She’s a piece of work. I bet she saw you guys somewhere.”

  My heart pounds. The blood pulses in my ears. I am seething. But I don’t want to show my anger in front of the kids.

  Valley picks up on how completely enraged I am. “Posey, I’m gonna take the kids home. I’ll text you that bitch’s… Sorry, kids… I mean, Emily’s number.”

  She hustles them out of the house but steps back in for a second. “Call me if you need anything. I mean it.”

  I send Van to his room, open the first aid kit and slowly and gently clean and dress Shane’s injuries. I can’t make eye contact with Mitch. I don’t know exactly why I’m so agitated, but a voice inside me admonishes me, “Come on, you knew this was wrong, you knew it, but you went there anyway. Selfish. So selfish. And now look, your kid is hurt because of you.”

  “Posey!” Mitch reaches over to take the bandage package out of my hand and offer sympathy.

  I flinch and step away. I hold a hand up when Mitch steps toward me. And then it happens. Vicious, thoughtless words shoot like poison darts from my mouth. “No, don’t! Don’t help! THIS is what I was talking about the other night. This. Us. It’s wrong.”

  I love him, but I can’t get used to having him around. I can’t risk my heart again. I can’t risk my kids’ hearts. I’ve been stupid to think I could do this.

  “What are you saying, Posey?”

  Irrationally I lash out at Mitch with the only thing about him that bothers me in the least. It’s ridiculous and mean. “And why do you always knock on the door? Why don’t you use the doorbell?”

  “What?” Mitch looks puzzled, as if I’m speaking a foreign language.

  “Mitch, a knock at a door. Think about it… in movies, stories, real life—”

  “What? What does my knocking on the door have to do with—”

  “Good things, good news is never preceded by a knock, Mitch. And you always knock. A knock always means bad news is coming.”

  “I just knock because sometimes doorbells don’t work. What are you saying, Posey? Because I knock on the door instead of ringing the bell this happened to Shane?”

  “Maybe. I don’t know.”

  “Really? Are you saying I’m not a good thing? We’re… not a good thing?”

  I can’t think straight and shake my head, not knowing what I mean.

  Mitch cocks his head and pleads, “Posey?”

  I’m bawling. I can’t speak.

  Shane is bawling, too. “Mooom, stop it!”

  Mitch backs away, hands up, and spins on his heel and walks to the front door. He stops and says in a shaky voice, “That’s a pretty big reach, Posey. I love you. I’ve told you. And you love me. I’d never do anything to purposely hurt you or the boys.” He sniffles loudly and swipes at his eyes.

  Heaving sobs escape me. I need to speak, but can’t. He’s right. I’m reaching. I’m scared, and when I’m scared I retreat, run away, play myself out. I get away before I get hurt. What the hell am I doing?

  “I’ll just leave,” he says and is out the door.

  I take a few worthless steps toward the door as it closes behind him.

  Van appears next to me. “Mom! Mom, stop him! You can’t let him leave. You can’t let him go.” He heard all of the ruckus from the hallway.

  But I do. I watch Mitch walk away and I just stand there.

  The three of us, Shane, Van and I, say nothing to each other. Van runs to his room and slams the door. Shane’s crying ramps up.

  I wipe my tears, finish cleaning up Shane’s face and call the school and the bus company, while waiting for the Walters’s number from Valley. I’ve set up a meeting first thing tomorrow morning with the principal and the bus company manager. They’re calling Rafe Walters’s parents.

  Shane has fallen asleep on the couch in the family room, an ice pack on his face and medicated with a whopping dose of ibuprofen.

  I sit in my chair and watch my youngest son breath in and out softly. He’s finally calm a
nd comfortable. My baby was hurt because he was defending me. Defending my relationship with Mitch. A ten-year-old shouldn’t have to do that.

  Checking my phone, there’s no text from Valley. Or Mitch. Why would Mitch text me? I was horrible to him. I’ve hurt Mitch by attacking him and pushing him away.

  I text them both, begging them to call or text me. I don’t know what I’m doing.

  Eventually, I pick up Shane and carry him to bed. Kissing him on the forehead before I leave the room. I peek in on Van. He’s fallen asleep in his clothes on top of his bed. I grab a blanket off a chair in his room and place it over him. I don’t kiss him for fear of waking him up, but I do kiss two of my fingers and then place them on his cheek lightly. He rolls away from me to his side. I back out of the room and shut off his light.

  The doorbell rings once, just as I’m closing Van’s door.

  Looking down the hall, I see a familiar form through the frosted window of the front door.

  Mitch.

  Chapter 16

  I can’t get to the front door fast enough. Opening it, I apologize immediately. “Mitch, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I don’t know what made me act like that.”

  Mitch smiles a thin line of a smile. His eyes are red. “I rang the doorbell.” He points at the bell.

  I don’t care, I’m just so happy he came back.

  I don’t even invite him in, I just start blabbing. “You don’t have to do that. I’m a complete bitch. You can knock. In fact, I insist you knock. I need to learn that a knock on the door is just that. Someone coming to see me. A good thing. In your case, a wonderful thing. The best thing to happen to me in a long time. Or maybe you should just walk in. There’s no need for you to knock ever again to come into this house.”

  His smile broadens. “I’ll do whatever makes you happy, babe. I just don’t want what happened this afternoon to ever happen again. If I’m doing something that upsets you, you have to tell me, OK?”

  “OK. Mitch, I was wrong.”

  “Yes, you were.”

  I laugh, a little honest laugh. “None of this is your fault. Shane didn’t get hurt because you knocked on the door. He didn’t get hurt because we’re together—”