August 15, 2000

Jeremy was in the living room, playing with his Playstation, when he heard his mother scream.

"Mom!"" he yelled, his eyes still glued to the tv, "Are you ok?"

It wasn't the first time he heard his mother scream. She was a screamer. Probably a spider above her bed.

But the second scream was louder.

Dropping his controller, he raced up the stairs. Her sounds told him she was in his room.

When he reached the door, he saw her sitting on his bed. Photographs were spread out all over the bed.

His photographs.

"Mom," he gulped, "what... what are you doing in my room?"

December 2004

Lisa Robinson Remembers

"Larry's car was in the repair shop, and he didn't feel like taking a taxi, so I drove him to the airport. He was on one of his long business trips. This time, I wouldn't see him for a week.

It was Summer, and I hated to leave the air conditioning, but with Marcy and Grant safely on the schoolbus, I had to get out and "keep an appointment."

But just as I was about to leave the house, I heard a knock on the front door.

The boy next door! "Jeremy, what are you doing here?"

Jeremy, still in high school, was a rather quiet, slender young man, not into weight lifting or sports.

He was wearing tan cargo shorts and a white undershirt.

I had used him as a babysitter for Marcy and Grant many times, and they adored him.

But now they were able to watch themselves.

"Yes, Jeremy?"

I was in a hurry to get out, and he was in my way.

"You look really hot today, Mrs. Robinson," he said.

"Hot?" He had never said that before.

"If you mean nice, Jeremy," I said, "Then thank you."

I guess I did seem kind of hot to him. I was wearing a short-short plaid skirt and a white blouse.

I wanted to look sexy and seductive for Mark.

My secret lover.

And now, as Jeremy stared boldly at me, I felt my face flushing.

"What do you want, Jeremy?" I said coldly. I didn't like the way he was looking at me.

I had never noticed him looking quite like that at me before.

It frightened me.

"I want you to make a phone call for me," he said calmly.

"A phone call? What? To whom?"

"I want you to call him and tell him you won't be able to see him today."

"See who?" I asked. But I was beginning to tremble.

"Mark," he replied. "I want you to tell Mark that your boy Grant was sent home sick from school, and you won't be able

to meet him today,"

"Mark?" I uttered in total shock. How could the boy next door know about Mark?

"What are you talking about?" I said angrily. "I'm in a hurry!" But I was shaking visibly and he knew it.

And then he showed me the photo. Mark and me in an intimite embrace. My favorite picture!

"You little son of a bitch!" I shouted. "Get your ass out of here!"

"Unless you want the whole neighborhood to hear you, I think we'd better talk with the door shut," he replied.

"How... where did you get that picture?" I demanded. But then I knew. He had spent hours in my house on many occasions while Larry and I were out. Hours after the kids were asleep. Hours to search my very personal belongings.

But they were locked in a box and hidden under a board in the attic! How did the son of a bitch find it?

No matter. He found it.

How did he know I was on my way to meet Mark?

I'll never know.

I forced myself to calm down. "What do you want?"

"Call Mark now," he ordered. And I did. I told him that Grant was sick and had been sent home from school.

I could have fought Jeremy, hit him, clawed him. But no matter what, he would somehow get the photo into Larry's hands, and I would lose my husband and children.

Jeremy was the smartest teenager I had ever met!

As soon as I hung up the phone, he began removing my blouse.

I wore a really flimsy blue lace bra. Jeremy admired it. He didn't take it off, but he slipped his hand under it and found my rapidly growing nipples.

"Jeremy, please!" I pleaded.

He pressed into me. I could feel the bulge under his pants. He was getting very excited.

And so was I.

"Jeremy," I said. "I'll give you money! Anything you want." But please give me the picture and go away!"

He smiled and pointed to the basement door. We both went downstairs, where Jeremy found some rope.