Monday is my least favorite day of the week. It is not because I don't like work. On the contrary, I usually worked during the weekend because I enjoy what I do. But Mondays mean meetings. All day I hop from one meeting to another with this school or that school and it was always topped off by an early afternoon meeting with the technology committee of the school board. It would not be so bad if the committee members had one clue regarding what they were supposed to be making decisions about.
And today was worse than normal because I still had thoughts of little Jenny running through my head. After our night together I made a point of calling her Saturday to make sure she was okay.
"Oh Mr. S. You are so sweet." She said sounding bubbly and happy.
"I told you that you should call me Greg."
"I know, but I like calling you Mr. Stevenson. Greg is a boy I knew in 5th grade who ate glue. You are all man Mr. S." We ended up talking longer than I thought we would and Jenny asked three times when we could meet up again. Since she could not get away on Sunday, we arranged for her to drive to my place to meet this evening. So it was all I could do not to think about her and focus on work.
Then around four in the afternoon my meetings were done and I was at my desk looking at mail when my secretary buzzed "Greg, Ms. Lane is on the line for you."
"Thanks Elaine. I got it." Usually Jenny and my other student interns would just call my cell or email me, but it was not unheard of for students to call me through my office. After shutting my door I picked up the phone and said, "Hey lover, are we still on for tonight?"
My blood turned to ice when I heard a more mature voice answer, "Yes, MrStevenson is it? I think we should meet."
"Who is this?" I asked, but afraid I knew the answer.
"This is Jenny Lane's mother, Kathryn."
"Oh shit." I muttered before I could stop myself. Images of my career washing down the toilet flooded my mind.
"I can tell from your reaction you have an idea of why I called."
"I think I can guess."
"Then maybe we should meet in person to talk about this."
"When and where?"
"How about the Starbucks on 16th in half a hour."
"Okay." I said before even thinking about how I would get across town in afternoon traffic.
"And I would appreciate if you don't try to contact my daughter before we talk."
"Fine. I will see you in thirty minutes." Somehow I had made it through the conversation without my voice cracking, but my hand shook as I put the receiver down. What had I done? Sure Jenny was technically legal and I could not face statutory rape charges, but with all the sensationalized stories about teachers screwing around with students you hear in the media these days, I knew the board of education would drum me out ASAP instead of having to face bad press. And I don't even fall under the protection of the teacher's union. Still, Jenny's mom had asked to speak with me before going public with this, so maybe there would be a chance to settle things quietly.
Or maybe she will be waiting for me with a news crew. Shit.
Thoughts like this kept blowing through my mind as I gathered up my things. I told Elaine that I was leaving early and headed out. Because it was my meeting day I was wearing a brown sport coat, with a royal blue dress shirt worn open at the neck and kaki slacks. As I got out to the car I said a thank you to whatever guardian angel prevented me from spilling spaghetti sauce on myself at lunch. I lucked out again because traffic was only starting to back up, so I made it by our appointed time.
Sitting in the parked car I took a moment to gather my thoughts. Long ago I came to the realization that my imagination can come up with much better, or much worse scenarios than ever happen in real life. I also took heart in the fact that my experience with Jenny was totally consensual and I knew in my heart that I had done nothing wrong. And as long as I could look at myself in the mirror and know I did right, then I could take whatever came my way. So after a few deep breaths, I checked my appearance in the mirror and went to face the music.
The first shock was waiting for me before I even got to the door. Sitting at one of the patio tables, sipping a grande frapachino of some sort, was a woman who had to be Jenny's mom. Her hair was raven black, like Jenny's, but worn long down her back where her daughter cut hers shoulder length. She had on sunglasses, so I could not see her eyes, but her face was almost identical. And she was young. If she was a year older than me I'd eat my hat " that is if I was wearing one. Sitting down I could not tell much about her height, but she was thin and dressed in nice charcoal heels that matched her slacks, a V neck light blue short sleeve shirt and gold jewelry, but no wedding ring.
I walked up and stuck my hand out, "Ms. Lane, I am Greg Stevenson."
"Ah, Mr. Stevenson." She said shaking my hand. "I thought it would be better for us to talk out here. Away from people who could overhear. Please sit down." I pulled out one of the metal chairs and sat down across from her. "It is nice to put a face with the name I hear so much from my daughter."
"Really? I didn't know she talked about me that much." I said making myself spread out so I did not look defensive.
"No, you have been a big influence on her over the past two years. She talks about what she learns from you more than any class or teacher."
"Well, I'm glad I've made an impact on such a smart girl."
"And that is why I wanted to see you." She said sitting forward and speaking with some vehemence she went on, "As we both know you have used your influence with my daughter to fuck her and I want to know why you would do something like that and how many other kids you have taken advantage of."
"Now wait just a minute." I said also sitting forward and looking her directly in her sunglass covered eyes. "I take my job very seriously and would not use my position to ˜seduce' my interns. If you know anything about your daughter you would know she is not some weak willed little girl who can be talked out of her panties. She is smart, determined, energetic, beautiful young woman who could have her pick of boys and men. She is the one who chose to initiate this, not me. I am not shirking my part in our tryst, but to think that I could make your daughter do anything she did not want to do would be a grave disservice to the young woman that she is."
Ms. Lane removed her glasses and looked me back in the eyes for a moment. I kept eye contact, not sure of what else to do. Then she asked, "There have been no other students that you have had affairs with?"
"I'm no saint, but I have never before had an intimate relationship with one of my students or anyone I was in a position of power over."
"Good." She said sitting back in her chair. I could tell she was more relaxed, but I was not sure why yet. "Mr. Stevenson.may I call you Greg?"
"Greg, I have been raising my daughter alone since her father left us when I was twenty-two. I like to think I have done a good job."
"And you have."
"It has not always been easy and I've had a lot of help from friends and family. One of the things I pride myself on is the open, honest, relationship Jenny and I have. And the fact that she would lie to me to cover up something as big as her first time with a man iswell, it broke my heart."
I was at a loss for words. Jenny's lie about staying at a friend's house was the last thing I thought I would be called to the mat over. What could I say, ˜yeah I should have told her to tell you the truth. That she was staying to fuck her intern advisor.' That would be a lie. The truth was I never thought about anyone but Jenny that night. So instead I asked, "If Jenny did not tell you, then how did you know?"
Ms. Lane gave a little half smile and said, "You don't have kids, do you?"
"You get to know them pretty well. I knew Jenny would become sexually active soon. We've talked about if for awhile and she recently asked to go on the pill. And when she came home on Saturday she was different. She was doing things a woman remembers about from her own first time."
"That still does not explain how you knew it was me."
Again a hint of a smile met her lips, "I did some snooping. A mother's prerogative in a case like this. Your cell number was one of the last she called on Friday and Saturday. If she had been with anyone else there would have been other calls. And you are the only man she has been talking about lately." My face must have flushed because she quickly said, "I don't think she is in love with you, but she has a crush and a deep affection for you. That's for sure."
I cleared my throat and said, "Well, she is a special person to me as well."
"So what are your intentions?"
"Excuse me?" I asked a little shocked by the images of a shotgun wedding that sprung to mind.
"Where do you plan to take this relationship with my daughter." She said sitting back and taking a sip of her drink.
The condensation dripped off the plastic cup and left dark wet spots running up her shirt. Of course in the afternoon sun they would be dry in a few seconds, but for now they drew attention to her ample cleavage. Attention I fought not to give as I said, "I had not thought about it."
.... There is more of this story ...