Chapter 24: Repairs

When I left the house to get away from the argument Mom and I'd had – our first real argument in more than two years – I had it in my mind to go for a walk. It was after ten when I walked out, so I changed my route, passed through Mrs. Tankersley's yard and spent the next couple of hours in the treehouse, thinking and meditating.

Was I wrong? Probably. Before our breakup, Christy had mentioned she was worried about her parent's marriage. At one point, she mentioned that her mother may have had an affair, which would explain her mother's reason to want to return to Buffalo. Christy said her own relationship with her mom had never been great, but had really deteriorated, lately. She did need someone to talk to. I was fine with it being my mom. I just couldn't get around the fact Mom had essentially left me on my own, to work through the breakup. I couldn't ever remember feeling so alone.

It was after midnight before I returned to the house. Everything looked exactly as it had when I left. The dishes Mom had brought in from the living room were still in the sink. None of the lights had been turned off, but Mom was nowhere to be found downstairs. I assumed she had gone to bed.

I loaded the dishes into the dishwasher, secured the house and turned off all the lights before heading to the bathroom to get ready for bed. There were times when my mood was dark enough that I wanted my surroundings to reflect that fact. My vision and the ambient light from the street provided enough to get me through my bedroom and into the bathroom without stubbing my toe. I brushed my teeth in the dark, happy not to see my reflection.

I didn't know if I was happy with anyone at that moment, myself included.

After stripping down to my underwear, I crawled into bed and moved towards the middle.

There I encountered a surprise. My Mom was occupying the other side of my bed. I didn't know exactly what to make of it, so I decided not to make anything of it. I rolled towards her and could just make out her shape as she lay on her side, facing me. I could tell that she was still fully clothed. Before I could say anything, she wrapped her arms around me, and buried herself into my neck, sobbing. She continued for several minutes before she calmed down enough to speak, but even then, only in a whisper.

"I'm sorry, Phil! I never want you to think I would abandon you for any reason."

I think I had been around more crying women in the past two weeks than I had my entire life. I had no idea what I was doing to trigger these reactions, but I was quickly learning to shut up and just let it happen. I pulled her tighter against me.

"I've already lost one man I loved. I don't know what I would do if I lost you, too. I know I'm supposed to be the adult, but it tears me up when we fight."

I kissed the top of her head as she remained buried in my chest.

"I don't think that was a fight. I think that was more of a disagreement."

"Do you really think I could abandon you?"

"No, not really. I was angry and lashed out. I've just felt so alone, this week. The only person I feel like I could really talk to has been Mrs. Parkman."

"Your History teacher? Really?"

"Yeah."

"I'm going to have to make a point to get to know her."

She released from me and propped herself up on her elbow, facing me.

"She said the same about you," I chuckled. "She reminds me a lot of you."

"Is she pretty?"

"No, she's not pretty."

"Oh."

"She's gorgeous."

Mom giggled and slugged me in the arm.

"Phil Marlow, do you have a crush on your History teacher?"

"Well, yeah ... me, and every other straight guy in that school, and probably half the girls, too!"

"Wow, she must be really attractive."

"I didn't say attractive, I said 'GORGEOUS.'"

"Mrs. Parkman? So, she's married. And she reminds you of me?"

"That she does."

"So, you think your mother is hot?" I could just make out her smile in the dark.

"I was hoping you didn't pick up on that; but, yeah, I do. There's no denying it."

I didn't have to see her to know that she was smiling.

"So, does that mean you'll go with your 'hot mother' to the studio tomorrow?"

A man had to know when he was beaten and I knew I was fighting a lost cause. Mom was very persuasive; and, really, was this worth another argument? Maybe, instead of trying to win the war, I could win a small battle instead.

"I'll agree to go if it doesn't have to be tomorrow." Mom pouted. "Mom, I just broke up with Christy last weekend. Things are still a little too fresh in my mind to allow me to spend an entire day with her."

Mom thought about that and sighed.

"Okay, when?"

"Two weeks?"

She shook her head and replied, "How about one?"

I groaned, but it was a hollow protest. I knew I wouldn't get more than a week's reprieve, so I asked for two hoping for at least one.

"Okay, I can live with that."

"One more thing. Christy is really hurting, right now. If we aren't taking her to the station, today, I'd like to invite her over for dinner."

I flopped back on the bed. And here we were again, forcing Christy's presence on me, or so it seemed. Maybe I could come up with an alternative.

"As long as I am not required to stay for dinner, I'm good with that."

"I'm not trying to force you to leave, Phil. This is your house, too."

"Are you trying to force me to stay?"

She sat up in the bed, with her arms folded. She was preparing for battle again, but I wasn't really trying to push the issue. I just wasn't ready to be around Christy, yet.

"If you don't want to stay, I won't force you, but I'll be disappointed."

"I can't stay. I promised Suzanne Gentry I would take her out tomorrow night ... although I have no idea how I'm going to pull it off. I have no transportation, and I don't think she does, either. I'll check with Mike or Sparks and see if I can double with one of them."

Mom did not look happy. The last thing I wanted to do was to jeopardize the little beachhead of peace we had established. I could feel our relationship becoming more and more contentious as I started to 'spread my wings', as it were. I considered myself to be an independent thinker, but had always deferred to my mom, growing up. Lately, we had begun to butt heads. I fought for more independence, and mom fought to maintain the status quo. The more I pushed, the more she resisted. The chances were that the frequency of our conflicts would increase.

"Just for tomorrow night, Mom. That way, Christy and I don't have to feel uncomfortable around each other. By next weekend, I should be in a better spot to spend the day with you and Christy."

Her left eyebrow lifted as she asked, "And you'll make nice?"

"I'll make nice."

She stroked my cheek and gave me a nice kiss.

"If you make nice with Christy, I'll introduce you to Connie when we go to the station."

That got my attention. I hadn't even met Connie, and I was intrigued. The way Mom described her had to be similar to the way the snake described the apple to Eve. I couldn't wait to meet her. I could already tell that we could be really good friends. I'd have to visit the TV station webpage and check Connie out.

"The light isn't on and I can still see that smirk on your face, Phil. Don't get any ideas about Connie, please."

"I only have one idea, Mom."

"God, you are such a rotten bastard."

She rolled over away from me, grabbed my arm and wrapped it around her waist. I snuggled up behind her and pulled her close. I had to consider my position, at that point. She had chosen to come to my room and lay in my bed. She was offering comfort. I hated to take advantage of the situation, but I couldn't help myself. I drifted off to sleep with my left hand cupping my mother's breast, her hand over mine, holding it in place.

Before I left for the Baker's, Saturday evening, I'd experienced one of the more boring days in my recent memory. Last year, I would have killed the hours either surfing the net (for educational reasons, I assure you) or finding something to play on the PS3. This year, although surfing the net held some appeal, the amount of educational material really didn't compare well to having a real girlfriend. I was able to contact Mike and ask if Suzanne and I could tag along with him and Alice. He was very understanding, but I didn't want to push my luck for long. I had a feeling Alice wouldn't be as accommodating.

Mom was out most of the afternoon shopping, so I was pretty much left to my own devices. I spent a big chunk of the time touching up the treehouse and making it as comfortable as I could. I had been up there for an hour when I realized the real reason I wanted to renovate the treehouse – to have a place to take Christy that was private – was no longer valid.

When I arrived at the Baker's, Mike told me we were set to meet Sparks and Heather at Dangerous Dave's by seven. Jessica was out with her friends, and Christine said didn't feel well and wouldn't be joining us. When I asked what was wrong, she just glared at me. Mike just shook his head and whispered, "Don't go there, dude. I've been avoiding her all day and will make myself scarce the next few. I may have to move into the treehouse, temporarily. Dad, too."

DD's would not have been my first choice, but it was one of the best places around to have a good time. The alternative was not going, and returning to the house to face Mom and Christy. I was happy to tag along.

The moment Alice dropped her happy ass into the passenger's seat, she started telling me all the rumors that were going around school about me and Christy. Christy cheated on me; I cheated on her; I hit her; she hit me; aliens had abducted her; etc.

Mike noticed what was going on, and asked Alice to put a lid on it. She wasn't happy about that and pouted all the way to Suzanne's.

Suzanne looked pretty and was dressed nicely; but I just didn't have the same feeling for her, as I had for Christy, when I greeted her at the door. She gave me a quick peck on the lips, and we scrambled into the back seat of Mike's car.

DD's was crowded, as it normally was on a Saturday night. We found a small table overlooking the gaming area, close to our location from the week before. By the time we had ordered something to drink and an appetizer, Sparks showed up with Heather, wearing matching black t-shirts, which wouldn't be all that bad, except they had big white lettering saying "I'M WITH STUPID" with arrows pointing at each other. Alice looked horrified to see them wearing the t-shirts. Mike and I looked at each other and busted out laughing. Heather and Sparks' expressions dropped as we guffawed.

"What?" they asked.

Clueless they were, but a perfect match.

The dinner was nice. Sparks and Heather were the entertainment, but Suzanne was holding her own. I know that I wasn't in the best frame of mind and I have no doubt everyone there knew it. Christy was never mentioned, but her presence was lingering over me, nonetheless. I wasn't being fair to Suzanne, so when I had a chance, I apologized to her.

"Don't worry about it, Phil. I expected you to be a little off your game tonight. If you weren't, I'd worry about your commitment to Christy. The fact you are feeling this way means you care a lot about her. I know us going out is too soon, but I wanted to get to know you a little, and let you know that I'm interested when you are ready. In the meantime, I have no expectations of you, and I hope you have none of me. Let's just have a little fun and see if we can become friends."

I was blown away. Until that point, although I considered the date pleasant, I was certain that this would be the only date Suzanne and I would have. But after that talk, my attitude was sufficiently adjusted and I was able to relax. The rest of the evening was a lot more fun. Suzanne and I held court on the foosball table until Mike, Alice, Sparks and Heather simply gave up. We played a networked driving game, and I thought I had her beat until Sparks nailed me head-on. That's right. Sparks and Heather both were driving against the grain.

All-in-all, it was a fun night. I had the opportunity to get out of the house for awhile, spend some time with my buddies and their girlfriends and got to know Suzanne a little better. Suzanne and I had bonded, at least to a small degree, but I figured it was mostly platonic. Platonic, that is, until I walked her to her front door.

I started to tell her 'Goodnight', but couldn't get the words out with her tongue probing my tonsils. As surprising as that was, finding her hand rubbing the front of jeans, was downright shocking. Before I could begin processing everything that was going on, my zipper was undone and her hand had found my cock through my boxers. I recovered nicely, though and I can tell you that her breasts fit very nicely in my hands and her booty was deliciously firm. She groaned at all of the appropriate times. She looked down to look at my cock she was stroking.

"Seems like he approves of me," she said.

"Oh, no doubt. You're pretty hot, Suzanne. Besides, he's a sucker for attention."

She smiled and again attacked my tonsils. I think I was getting close to leaving her a present on her jeans before she stopped.

"Thank you for taking me out, Phil. Can I call you?"

"Uh ... sure."

I was still lost in a fog.

"Okay, then, talk to you later!"

She disappeared into the house. It took me several seconds to begin moving. I slowly dragged myself off her porch and down the sidewalk to the car. I glanced back over my shoulder a couple of times, wondering what the hell just happened. As I approached the car, I could hear Alice giggling.

"Barn door, Phil!" Mike yelled.

"Crap!"

I quickly zipped my pants, lucky I didn't snag the frank and beans, as I dumped myself into the backseat of the car.

Monday came along, and I got to hear from Alice that I was in for a rough day. Apparently, the rumor circulating around school, this time, was Christy and Steve had been seen making out at the movies, Saturday night, and Steve had his hand inside her shirt. That was followed up with another rumor that Christy had been seen giving Steve a blowjob in the parking lot shortly thereafter. I immediately started getting pissed off, but after taking a few minutes to think about it, I relaxed.

Christy had been at my house, Saturday evening, having dinner with Mom. Mom had told me Christy didn't leave to go home until just before ten, that night (I got home just after ten). Mom had even offered Christy the chance to spend the night, but Christy turned her down, citing a text from her mother indicating she was finally home for the evening.

Once I knew the truth, I started my own little investigation that led me to Bill Dolan. I would have been more upset, really, if it had been someone else. Dolan was simply a bully, and an asshole. He never failed to surprise me with just how low he would stoop. I'd hate to be in his shoes when Christy and/or Jessica found out.

Tuesday started out much better. Apparently, Jessica and Christy found out where the rumor started (Jessica can find out anything), and began to launch their counterattack. It would have been easy just to refute the rumor and move on, but that wasn't Jessica's style. She was a faithful subscriber to 'scorched earth' policy. I didn't know what she had over Bill, but he spent the first five minutes of the lunch period letting everyone know: that he had started the rumor, that it was not true, that he was very sorry, and that it wouldn't happen again.

He was lucky Christy didn't slap the shit out of him. She reserved that action for Steve Williams, as soon as Bill finished his apology.

When I heard the slap, I genuinely thought someone had either set off a firecracker, or had brought a gun to school! I'd never heard the lunchroom as quiet as it was after the slap. All eyes were focused on Steve and Christy. Without another word, Christy gathered her lunch tray and left Steve and Bill behind, licking their wounds. She stopped in the middle of the lunchroom, looking for a place to sit before our eyes made contact. At the table with me, were Mike and Alice, Suzanne and Suzanne's best friend, Jo. I nodded my head slightly towards Christy, and motioned to the seat furthest from mine, next to Alice. Christy quietly parked next to Alice for the rest of lunch.

Over the course of the next few days, Christy became a permanent fixture at our table. She and I didn't speak, and generally gave each other plenty of room; but with Christy came Jamie, Wendy and a couple other girls and guys I didn't recognize. By the end of the week, we had ten people eating at our table. Jerry, Will, Veronica and Alex (short for Alexandra), joined the original three of us (Mike, Alice and I), along with Suzanne and Jo. Some of the group (Jerry and Will) were teammates of Mike's. The other two (Veronica and Alex) were new friends of Christy's. Although we had different backgrounds and interests, we all got along and seemed to be forming a pretty nice group. Christy and I would exchange quick glances, and a forced smile from time-to-time, but didn't say anything to each other.

I found out later, from Jessica, why Christy had slapped Steve. Actually, she had multiple reasons: Steve did nothing to stop Bill from starting the rumor, which meant Steve supported and maybe even encouraged it. Steve had obviously lied to Christy, and Steve had been party to an effort to kick me while I was down. Christy wanted to kick him in the nuts, but Jessica told her that slapping him like that, in public, would be more humiliating. I was guessing that Steve's budding friendship with Christy had effectively run its course.

Tuesday's tutoring session went well enough, I guess. Beth was attentive, but shy. Teaching her would be a lot easier if I could get her to open up a little, so I tried to throw in a joke or two from time to time and keep her engaged. The smile she offered in return was tentative, at best.

Jim Daniels was going to be even more of a challenge. Along with the acne, I found the guy had an acute case of ADHD, and had the attention span of a gnat. To get him to focus a little more, I had him read through some of the material out loud. It occupied his mind a bit more, and provided less of a chance to space out.

By the time the tutoring session was over, my mind was fudge. Mrs. Parkman sat down with the three of us tutors after our six charges had left for the day. I'm sure we looked like death warmed over.

"So, who's ready to make a career out of teaching?"

Danielle Adams and I simply groaned, much to Mrs. Parkman's satisfaction. Sheila Turner just couldn't shut the hell up.

"I would LOVE to go into teaching, Mrs. Parkman!"

Mrs. Parkman offered Sheila a polite smile.

"Good for you, Sheila. I'll bring in some material to help you along." Sheila's smile faded a bit. Apparently, Mrs. Parkman's suggestion went over like a fart in church. She was serious about sucking up, but not so serious about pursuing a teaching career. I just hoped her career choice wasn't politics.

I had a strategy all mapped out for Tuesday night, as I planned to ask Jessica to meet with Mrs. Parkman. Mom had always been a sucker for a nice foot rub, as it always put her in a good mood and generally smoothed the way when I wanted something from her. It only failed one time that I can remember. Looking back now, I can see that getting a dirt bike when I was twelve wouldn't have been such a great idea, anyhow. Besides, if I had Jessica's foot, I would have leverage to keep her from either running away, or beating the crap out of me.

When we met in the treehouse, I asked her to take off her shoes, and put her feet in my lap. She glared at me before relenting, and kicking off her tennis shoes. Just like the rest of her, her feet were elegant and ... well ... perfect. I'm not a foot fetish guy, but I had to admit her feet were pretty. We exchanged small talk, and she started to relax and get into the massage before I guided her into the discussion I really wanted.

"I found someone for you to talk to, you may find worthy of your trust."

"I've already found that person – you. Why do I need someone else?"

"Because there are similarities between the two of you."

"What similarities?"

Here we go.

"Both of you had teenage abortions."

I continued to massage her feet as Jessica took time to consider my words.

"Did she tell you this?" I nodded. "Why would she tell you something that private?"