Thursday rolled around quickly and it was time to work with Grace again on her essay. Sighing inwardly, I packed up my portfolio and headed to the parking lot. The sky was clear and blue, but a cold wind whistled between the cars and raised dust devils on the frigid softball field across the street. A stripe of dirty ice lay packed along the curb in front of all the cars. Winter in New England.
I sat in the car for a few minutes to kill time before setting out. Ignoring the coming and going around me, I shook my head and thought back over the last few days. Grace spread out on a wide couch in the sunroom. Filling her with cum in her mother's bed. Grace's dad trying to be funny. Lindsey high as a kite and clinging to me in the paddle tennis shed. Jesus, this was a messed-up situation! Glancing at the time, I started the engine to break the cold and wondered how this would all play out in the end. Would Grace be jealous or unable to work with me? Would Lindsey become more than a romp?
Lindsey opened it six inches and I saw one eye and a sliver of blue bathrobe. I smiled.
"Can I help you?" she asked in a suspicious voice.
"Yes," I replied formally, catching onto her game. "I'm here to check the gas meter."
"Bullshit," she replied quietly. "You're that creep who molested my daughter."
"That's true. But I still need to check the meter."
"Fine."
I give her credit for maintaining her scowl for that long. When she opened the door, though, her resolve cracked and she snorted and smiled.
"Come on in," she chuckled.
So far, so good. I walked past her into the kitchen, pulled out a stool, and sat down. She raised an eyebrow at my presumption, but pulled the next one out and sat down, her elbow resting on the granite. I decided at that moment that the games had gone on long enough. Since I didn't see Grace anywhere, I spoke softly and earnestly.
"Lindsey, I feel like we have a lot to talk about, but I still have to work with Grace and get her through Law and Gov, right?"
"I know that," she replied evenly. Her eyes were inscrutable.
"And yesterday was fucking incredible," I said with more pleasure in my voice.
"I know that, too!" she said, her body visibly relaxing and a smile beginning to show.
"Nothing has changed between you and me because of what happened this weekend, okay?"
Her smile grew wider and she leaned forward with her eyes gleaming, much more herself.
"Okay. Fine. But you're still going to tell me all about it later."
"Yes, ma'am. Anything for a steady customer."
"You're an asshole. I'll go get Gracie."
"Thank you," I said, feeling much more relaxed myself.
She slipped off the stool and vanished upstairs while I got myself settled at the tutoring table. Grace showed up a minute later and sat down. She didn't get her books or laptop out, but turned quietly to face me.
"Are you okay?" I asked gently.
She nodded, but her eyes were wide and serious. The usually bright green of her irises seemed darker today.
"What's up?" I asked. "Are you weirded out by the weekend?"
"A little bit. I'm also kind of embarrassed about my dad still. And kind of...I don't know...weirded out again because of you and my mom."
I smiled as genuinely as I could and stroked her knee.
"That's a lot to think about!" I said to validate her feelings. "So first things first. You're not responsible for your dad's behavior. I'm a big boy, and I can handle guys like that. Okay?"
She nodded again.
"As for your mom..." I began.
Her eyes darted toward the stairs unconsciously.
"You said last week that your mom seemed happy, right?"
Another nod.
"Well, it's no secret that she and I have been...seeing each other. Sometimes after you and I are done, and sometimes on other days. You guys have talked about that, right?"
A tiny smile flickered in her eyes, but she simply nodded in response and stayed silent.
"So that's a good thing, Grace. She makes me happy, and I make her a little happier, and it's not going to wreck your family or anything. If it's making you really uncomfortable, though, I will absolutely stop seeing your mom."
She shook her head just a fraction.
"No," she said quietly. "I want her to be happy. And I know my dad is an asshole. And I know you're being really nice to her. We talk about...how you make her feel."
I snorted gently, smiling back at her.
"I KNOW you guys talk about that!" I laughed.
She giggled and looked more at ease. To finish up the awkwardness, I put my serious face on again and kept a firm hold on her knee as I spoke.
"The last thing, Grace, is you and me. What happened this weekend is something I will always treasure. You are young and beautiful and sexy as hell, and I've been fantasizing about you for ages. But we both know that kind of thing isn't supposed to happen, right?"
She was silent again, but nodded seriously.
"Even if we had a great time," I finished.
She looked down at my hand and put hers over it, holding me gently.
"That's the problem," she whispered without looking up. "I did have a great time. I've never felt that sexy or that...grown-up, or that happy after."
"Grace..." I said with soft urgency, pulling my hand up between us to draw her gaze upward.
I smiled and kissed her fingers, causing her to smile a tiny bit in return.
"Can I tell you something messed up?" I asked her.
"Sure," she said with a puzzled look.
"I think your mom was pushing us to...get together like that because she wanted you to feel that way. The way she gets to feel sometimes. I'm not superman, but I do try and make a woman feel sexy and special and satisfied, and that usually means that I get to feel that same way. And YOU did that for me. You. Not your mom, not some fantasy girl. Grace made me feel that way by being sexy and grown-up and amazing. And it probably shouldn't happen again because we still have to work together and write this damn paper!" I finished with a laugh.
That was a lot for the kid to process, I know, but I desperately wanted to shift gears away from her feeling conflicted about what we had done. Fortunately, she tracked along with my shift in tone and laughed, squeezing my hand again out of happiness. Before she could say anything in return, though, I added one last shot of humor to move us forward.
"And I'm still not taking you to the prom!"
She rolled her eyes, which is all that deserved, then let go of my hand and turned to get her stuff out of the backpack beside her.
"Now where were we?" I asked innocently as she opened her laptop.
Forty-five minutes later, Grace had a paragraph about Tinker v. Des Moines written out. It had taken a lot of coaxing and going over things she had already read and written to get there, but it was an acceptable if not perfect addition to the paper. Her phone started buzzing with about 10 minutes left of our hour, but she thoughtfully ignored it until the work was done. After her laptop was away, though, she couldn't resist and grabbed it with an apologetic glance toward me.
"Time for lacrosse?" I asked with amusement.
"Yup," she replied absently, her thumbs flying. "Katie needs a ride."
Her eyes darted toward mine, but I kept my face neutral.
"Well, you did a great job, so you can get out of here and get her right now. Mrs. Day should be really happy with your work."
She grinned with relief at the early dismissal and the praise. I think she was also relieved that I hadn't made a thing about her mentioning Katie.
"Thanks, Mr. Robertson!" she said as she got up from her chair. "Are you...staying?" she added uncertainly.
"If it's okay with you, I do need to talk to your mom."
She turned one toe inward and looked down for a few seconds.
"It's okay," she said at last. "You make her happy, and that makes me happy."