Chapter 3: MLK

He called later in the week. “This is Knut Gustafson. Meeting you in the store was a pleasant surprise, but that must be an unpleasant walk in this weather. I’m going shopping Sunday. Would you like a ride there and back?”

“That would be kind. What time?”

“That’s a little uncertain. Church ends at noon, but they aren’t fanatical about it. And next Sunday is communion, which always slows things down. It’s in Evanston. The drive isn’t much, but the weatherman is threatening snow. Let’s say I’ll call you, but plan for one or one-thirty. Is it okay if I park in my home parking space? It’s a little walk, but better than the store.”

“Much better. Thank you very much.”

“My pleasure. I have a phone in my car, so I’ll call you before one-thirty, whatever.”

He called right at one-thirty to announce a delay. He called her again from the car, telling her that he was in the alley behind her building. He was holding the door on her side when she came down the stairs. “Now that’s service,” she said.

With the checks, she could afford to stock up. “Taking advantage of your kind offer,” she explained to Knut. “Besides, I let things run out in anticipation of the trip.” He carried two of her bags up her back stairs and into the kitchen. Their kiss was perfunctory. “I like holding you better when I’m holding less,” he said.

“I like it better, too,” she admitted.

And, that night in the tub, she thought of Knut’s holding her and nothing else. He was naked, too, in her imagination. What would it be like?

It was Tuesday evening, and she was giving Billy a bath when Knut called. “This is Knut Gustafson. Is this a bad time to call?”

Well, Billy could stay happily in the tub for a few more minutes. “This is fine.”

“You’ll be by yourself this Saturday?”

“Yes.”

“Rebecca and I would like to invite you to dinner,” he said. “Are hamburgers okay?”

“They’re fine.” Rather surprising for the gourmet she thought Knut to be, but she liked his company. She liked Rebecca’s company, too, although she would have preferred Knut’s alone.

“She’s cooking, and sixth graders don’t have a great kitchen repertoire.”

“Thanks. I’m sure that it will be fine.”

“Well, you won’t have to eat first. Five-thirty okay? You know our address, or maybe you don’t remember. It’s 1217, left-hand door. We met you in the Sandovals’ apartment, which is the right-hand door.”

Rebecca’s cooking was confined to the hamburger patties and the torn-up lettuce which was the salad. Knut had cooked green beans for a vegetable, and he’d sliced tomatoes and raw onions for garnishes. The levels of neatness distinguished the father’s preparations from the daughter’s. There were also squeeze bottles of catsup and mustard, a dish containing relish and another containing chopped fried onions. All in all, it was a much better meal than ‘hamburgers cooked by a sixth-grader’ had implied. Sarah had guessed right on clothes, too. Her skirt and blouse were as informal as Knut’s slacks and flannel shirt. It was the first time since Halloween she’d seen him without a tie.

Knut took the charred-looking patties for himself. She couldn’t tell if that were an odd preference or parental acceptance of the worst. Rebecca put cooked onions on her hamburger along with a slathering of catsup. Nobody took the slices of raw onion at all. Sarah couldn’t tell if they had been intended for her. Dessert was ice cream -- Rocky Road.

A little after the meal was over, Knut said, “I’ll drive you home, if you don’t mind going the long way. ‘Becca and some of her friends are going to a movie.”

“Why, thank you.” His car was parked almost as far from his door as her house was.

Rebecca got in first, the back seat. Knut tugged at her seat belt. “Point for Gryffindor,” he said. The two girls whom they picked the way joined Rebecca in the back, and Knut checked their seat belts. They seemed used to the drill.

Knut parked and walked the girls to the ticket window with his wallet in his hand. He had to park a block and a half away to walk her to her door. And she had thought her offer of instant coffee was a lame excuse for asking him in. But neither of them commented.

In her apartment, he took her chin in his hand to kiss her. It was a sweet kiss, almost a chaste kiss. He took her coat when she unbuttoned it. He unzipped his own and dropped both across a chair. Sitting on the sofa brought their heads closer to the same level. The kisses were better like that. She leaned back in his arm while his tongue explored her mouth. He seemed to take her wearing the buttoned blouse as an invitation. It hadn’t been, not a conscious one. Still, his hands on her bra-clad breasts thrilled her.

He kissed down her neck to the line at the top of the bra. “Lean forward, will you?” he said. Now, that would be an invitation; but it was one she was willing to extend. He unsnapped the bra and lifted it. His kisses continued over her breasts.

“Oh,” she said when he sucked her nipple.

He returned to her mouth, and they kissed passionately while his hand held her breast. He held the nipple between thumb and forefinger, quite gently. Finally, he broke the kiss to ask, “Wouldn’t you be more comfortable without these?” She leaned forward again while he removed her blouse. He put it on his end of the couch while she shrugged out of the bra and put it on her end.

He kissed her hairline and forehead before returning to her mouth. This time he held her left breast. She was leaning against the other arm, but still it was long enough so that he could just stroke her right breast with it. The touches were gentle, still. They were almost tickles.

He broke that kiss and withdrew the hand on her right breast to kiss her there. Soon he was sucking on one nipple and then on the other. His hand held her knee under her skirt, then it moved up her thigh, stroking as it went. He seemed to be in no hurry, and she enjoyed some more kisses and strokes before he reached her vulva. “Oh Sarah!” he said. He stroked her through the pantyhose quite skillfully, and she reacted quite warmly.

The warmth turned to fire. She clutched his head to hers. His tongue explored her mouth as his fingers stroked her labia. When the fire took her, she grunted and shook in his arms. When she relaxed, he withdrew his hand and lifted his head. “Oh Sarah!” he said again.

He held her cuddled against him, not trying to grab anything, while she sagged in his arms. A while later, he took his hand off her knee to look at his watch. He put the hand back. He hadn’t got his; was he thinking it was about time he did?

The second time he looked at his watch, he said, “Look, I could hold you like this forever, if it was just me; but there will be three girls coming out of a movie theater onto a dark sidewalk in ten minutes. They’ll be overheated and the street will be cold. I’d better be there.”

She could see that. “Thanks for the dinner,” she said. She couldn’t very well thank him for the orgasm. “Thanks for everything.” Which more-or-less did.

“The pleasure was mine. Thanks for the company.” Well, the pleasure hadn’t been all his. Still, it was nice of him to say so. When he was in the midst of zipping up his coat, he said, “I almost forgot. On for shopping tomorrow?”

“Yes.” And his wording was, for once, perfect. It wasn’t something she could be thought to have traded a make-out session for; it wasn’t his contribution to charity; it was a standing date he’d forgotten to confirm earlier.

“Good, same constraints apply. I’ll call before one-thirty.” And he was gone.

She had work to do, but that didn’t darken her mood. She hummed as she piled the laundry up for her trip to the laundromat the next day. This Knut guy was good for her. She just hoped she hadn’t grunted when she came. “Like a pig,” Fred had used to say. And Fred, who didn’t know much about most things, probably knew a lot about pigs. He was pretty much a pig himself.

Sunday, they went shopping again. Rebecca carried Knut’s frozen food up to their apartment while Knut drove Sarah home. He carried one of two bags up her back stairs and got a kiss for his trouble. She was tempted to ask him to stay longer, but his car was in the alley and his daughter would wonder where he was.

Knut called Wednesday night. “Would it be too parental,” he asked, “to take Billy and you to a restaurant which would broaden his culinary horizons?”

“Really?” Not too parental. And she would enjoy the meal, but would she be inflicting that on Billy because she would enjoy it? “Really, I don’t know.”

“Then, why don’t we split the difference. Why don’t we go to a Thai restaurant on Saturday? Some of the stuff is hotter than Chinese, but I’d warn him about that.”

“Who says we’re going anywhere Saturday?” Was he being bossy again, or taking her for granted?

“Why, you, of course. Or, rather, you say whether you’re going anywhere on Saturday. This was an invitation. It’s just that -- instead of my asking you to a Thai restaurant, take it or leave it -- I’m respecting your parental judgment. You can say that you think that the Chinese would be better.”

“I’m sorry, Knut. I don’t know why I’m feeling bitchy.”

“And I’m sorry, too. Look, this sounds like a bad time, but you’ve been warned. Don’t take me to task for issuing the invitation too late.”

He called again on Friday when Billy was asleep. “This is Knut. Is this a bad time?”

“A good time. I don’t know why I felt you were taking control last time.”

“Moi? Who could think that of me?” His tone showed that it was a joke. He was bossy as hell, but at least he recognized it. “Anyway, it was my fault. I should have asked if it was convenient.”

“I don’t know why.” She didn’t want to be as controlling as he was.

“Because I don’t want to annoy you. Anyway, if it’s not convenient and I don’t ask, tell me ‘Not now.’ Hang up if it’s really inconvenient.”

“I was rude enough. I couldn’t do that.”

“Well, if you want to, do it.” Except for mornings when it might be the sub center, she didn’t answer the phone when it was that inconvenient. “To change the subject abruptly, would the two of you like to eat out tomorrow night?”

“Thank you,” she said. “I’m sure you could get more pleasant company.”

“Company in a better mood, maybe. Company whose presence I’d enjoy more, no. So, it’s not as if I hadn’t warned you. Chinese or Thai? That’s assuming your ‘thank you’ was a yes.”

“I’m not sure I could put up with a tantrum just now. And the Chinese place does have his favorite food.”

“Chinese it is. Another change of subject. You aren’t working on King’s birthday. Billy and Rebecca are off school. Would you like a joint expedition to the Museum of Science and Industry?”

“Surely you’re working then.”

“The office will be open. The rush will be over. I don’t really get comp time, much less overtime. But, after the hours I worked, nobody is going to object to a day off. On the other hand, the museum will probably be overrun with kids.”

“So would the apartment.” Well, overrun with one kid. “Thank you very much.”

The meal was pretty much a repetition of the previous one. They had sweet and sour shrimp, broccoli beef, chicken with peapods, and a fish dish.

The kiss was luscious, but fairly brief. They were apart when Billy came to the back door. “Thank you,” she said.

“Yeah, thanks!” Billy said. It was unrehearsed and sounded like it.

“You are quite welcome. Both of you. I’ll call you about shopping.”

The new school gave her the weirdest assignment yet. Successive classes were on opposite ends of the building and on different floors. On the other hand, one of her fellow teachers was a neighbor whom she knew slightly. Betty Garcia offered her a ride home, and she accepted gratefully.

She told Betty her puzzlement over the badly arranged schedule.

Betty laughed. “Miss Weaver?”

“Yes. She must be a mountain goat to maintain that schedule.”

“She’s no mountain goat. Closer to a cripple. Mr. Jerome,” the principal, “wants to get rid of her. He can’t fire her, but he can assign her to any classroom he wants. Somehow she’s gotten sick a lot more often this year on that schedule.”

“And I have to maintain it, lest she come back?”

“That’s right.”

On the other hand, this looked like an assignment which would last for a while. And she did have money in the bank, money she had promised her mom to spend on herself. Not even Fred would be able to find an excuse for the February check being late when he hadn’t had to come up with the January payment. One positive benefit of having been shuttled around the city was that she could wear the same outfit on successive days. Nobody in the different schools would know.

Well, she was wearing outfits to this school which she had worn here before. One new blouse would at least minimize that problem. And she wanted to wear something for Knut that he hadn’t seen before, too. After checking with Deb that it was okay, she had Betty drop her off at an EL stop. She went to Carson’s to shop for a nice blouse. She found one, not too fancy for school, not too plain for dates with Knut, for a good deal less than her mom had given her. Thinking of Knut, she splurged on a front-closure bra. The total ran a little over the hundred, but with steady work she should still keep a healthy balance.

She stocked up on groceries on Sunday, as well. She didn’t splurge, but she bought good supplies of her staples. She got three times as much laundry detergent as she usually bought for a little more than twice the price.

Knut left her while she was unlocking the back door. She couldn’t see why he didn’t stick around, especially since the bag he left was hard to pick up off the floor of the porch. By the time she had everything inside, though, he was climbing up with a third bag. He set it on the kitchen counter. “There,” he said, unzipping his coat.