Schooled (5 page)

Marcus wasn’t home when I got there. His golf clubs weren’t in the den. He must’ve still gone golfing and was still out with his friends. Nothing deterred him from his scheduled plans. There was a small part of me still hoped that he had skipped his golf game, ignored my text about being gone, and was at home waiting to beg for my forgiveness.
Let it go Janelle, never going to happen.
I grabbed some clothes and bathroom necessities. I would get the big stuff on Monday, when I knew he was at work. I would hire a moving company to come get it all. I didn’t want to keep much, especially the crap in the house that we bought together or reminded me of him. He could keep it. He could definitely keep our bed, the bed that he screwed Lauren in. The bed she handcuffed him to. The bed that I thought would be the place that we conceived our first child….Bastard.

“I wish I could set our bed on fire without burning the house down.” I yelled, punching the dashboard.

Char laughed, but said that she had a better idea. Char had that look in her eye that meant we were about to have a lot of fun; mischief would be had by all.

******

We were laughing as we ran to get into my car. “Hurry, hurry, hurry.” Char was jumping in the passenger’s seat as I was pulling, screeching out of the driveway. “That was so fucking great. I can’t believe you let me do it.” I was pretty pleased with myself too. I wasn’t the impulsive, vindictive type, but it did feel good. Let’s face it, Marcus had it coming.

It took us a while to get the ping pong table up the steps from the basement and into the driveway. It was a lot heavier than she and I thought t it would be. Then, I grabbed the Keurig, as Char got all of Marcus’ flavored K-cups. We put everything in the middle of the driveway. Then, Char spray painted a note on our driveway; I wouldn’t let her spray paint the garage door. The note said:

I told you it would get hotter, mother fucker!

You’ve been CHARRED by Char—again!

Then, Char used a small amount of gasoline from our gas gallon in the garage, sprinkled it on the pingpong table and Keurig, and we watched the entire pile ignite. It was quite symbolic really, watching my life, my past, what I thought was my future, all go up in flames.

“So are you okay?” Char finally stopped laughing and could actually speak. “You should be. This is a good thing.”

“It sure doesn’t feel good, but I’m a survivor, right? I can deal.” I wasn’t so sure, but I knew that’s what she wanted to hear. I knew that’s what she would tell Jocelyn and Jasper when she talked to them again today, which I knew she would. They would probably be talking about me for weeks now. I was glad that my brother was going to let me stay in his pool house, even though…

Jasper allowed me to decorate the entire pool house. Everything in the place I picked out and designed. I enjoyed doing it, because he let me spend all of his money on things that I liked and wanted for it. It had been a blast. Today at Jocelyn’s, he revealed that he had done so, because he figured that I’d need to live there someday. My God. Women were stupid. I was stupid. I always believed that women knew deep within their heart of hearts when their men were cheating. I assumed that we could sense when something was amiss. When your husband isn’t attentive, it means he’s being attentive somewhere else, to someone else, right? I just cannot believe that I missed the signs. Did I miss them or was I merely ignoring them? Oh damn him! Damn. My stomach ached, feeling empty and alone. Well, at least I had a nice place to live, alone.

Once I got myself settled in to the pool house, Jasper stopped in to see if Char needed a ride to get her car. Before they left, Jasper gave me another file. Another file. Char looked at me; she knew what was in this one too. As they were leaving, she told me that she would be by at 10:00 the next morning to get me. I was perplexed. “Get me for what?” I asked.

“Our spa day, remember?” Shit. I had forgotten. We were spending the entire day getting spa treatments for our “kick off the summer pampering day.” Char always found a reason to get facials and massages.

“Char, I don’t think--”

“Perfect, see you at 10:00. Love you.” She and Jasper left. I was alone in the pool house with my two duffel bags of clothes, my books, my laptop, and another file. What the fuck could be in this one? It mustn’t be too bad since they both figured I could read it alone.

Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars!!! My brother had invested my 50 grand from the sale of my parents’ house, and it had earned, accrued, gained, whatever the hell it did, 200 thousand more since that day. I had two hundred and fifty thousand dollars! Could Marcus take this from me? I fumbled through the file and couldn’t figure it all out.

I needed help. I called Jasper; he was so proud of himself. The money was in his name, but in one of his separate bank accounts. It was all mine. Marcus couldn’t get to it. I could relax. I didn’t have to worry about Marcus and how I would survive. Jasper said that I could stay in the pool house for as long as I needed, and the money was mine to do with as I needed or pleased.

I had always toyed with the idea of taking a year off teaching, a sabbatical maybe, to travel or to write. Maybe this change in my life and this newfound money was the catalyst for something different, something new, something exciting. Maybe even someone new…

“And Janelle, don’t forget to text that kid for me. I need a landscaper.” It was the least I could do. I thanked Jasper, promised to text Leo, and hung up. I still couldn’t wrap my brain around the fact that so much had changed in the last 24 hours. That insurance commercial was right. “Life comes at you fast.” I laughed and got my phone to text Leo.

Leo Cling was one of my former students. He graduated with Briggs, but they ran in different crowds. Actually, I wasn’t sure if Leo even had a “crowd” so to speak. He was a nice kid though. He had always done a little landscaping in the summers for extra money for college. His family was pretty well off, but he liked to earn his spending money for school. He’d never done our yard; Marcus was too anal to allow anyone to touch our landscaping. But, a few teachers I knew used him in the past, so I got his number for Jasper. Getting a number for Jasper meant I had to call and set it all up, but to be fair, he just got me $250,000.00. I guessed that I could do this for him. I just wasn’t sure if Leo was still doing yard work. He would have graduated from college by now. I’d figured. He was such a nice kid, really smart, pretty dorky though. I figured he was already out in the real world now. If he wasn’t available, then I told Jasper that I’d ask Leo if he knew anyone else who would be interested in helping out.

Hi Leo! It’s Miss Garrity. I hope you’re doing well. My brother is looking for someone to do some landscaping. Are you, or anyone you know, interested in helping out? Please let me know.

I sent the text and started unpacking some of my clothes. I assumed that I’d better make myself comfortable. I wasn’t going anywhere any time soon. My phone dinged.

Miss Garrity, it is so nice to hear from you. I’d love to help you (your brother) out. It would be my pleasure. I recently started a new job, but I could swing by tomorrow to take a look at the yard. I could get the landscaping done on the weekends and evenings. I hope that works. Just send me your brother’s address and a time that would work for you. Thanks for thinking of me. LC.

What a sweet kid! His texts were so formal. The English teacher in me loved that. He even used apostrophes. It was crazy how happy the correct use of the apostrophe made me. I sent him the address and made a plan for him to stop over at 9:30 the next morning. That would give me thirty minutes to take him around the grounds before Char picked me up for our day of pampering. Pampering. Boy, did I need that.

I decided to take a bath in the garden tub. I figured that I would take advantage of Jasper’s luxuries while they were available to me. The water felt wonderful and warm all over my body; I could feel the stress of the last thirty hours start to drain out of my shoulders and back. I started to doze off in the water, with the bubbles all around me, and the jets pulsating in my back, when my cell dinged again:

You didn’t call :(
.
The reality that Briggs used smiley faces in his texts made me grin. He was boyish, but so manly and beautiful.

It was a long day. Thank you so much for getting my car. I don’t want to ruin my phone, so I can’t talk/text..
I didn’t know what to say to him. As the water was running over my body, I hadn’t been able to stop myself from thinking about him, about his hands, his arms, his lips. Then, he texted me. He was so tuned in to my thoughts, my dirty thoughts. My forbidden thoughts?

I dont get it. Ruin phone?
Normally, I’d admonish the person texting me who didn’t use an apostrophe, but I was going to let it go this time. He did get my car, clean it out, and gas it up. It could slide.

I’m in the bathtub.
Why? Why would I tell him that? I knew why. I wanted him to know. I wanted him to think about me, as I had been thinking about him. I even wanted him to touch himself, thinking about me. That would be so hot. So wrong, but so hot. I wanted to have the same effect on him that he had on me.

Right now? Can I come by?
I knew he’d say that. I would’ve been disappointed if he hadn’t. I like that he wanted me. I needed him to want me.

No!
Yes please! Please, please, please!

Please! I’ll be good. Where r u? Did u go home?
I hated that he knew what was going on in my marriage and my life. It made me feel like such a failure. I would hate having all of my students know that my marriage fell apart. I always raved about how happy and in love we were. Now, I’m going to seem like a phony.

No! At my brother’s house
Alone in the bathtub, wishing you were with me…

Can I see you tomorrow?
Why wait until tomorrow? Get your hot, black ass over here now.

Sorry, I have a spa day (massages and facials) with my friend.
I’d much rather be spending the entire day tomorrow finishing what we started last night on that dance floor, with you grinding your hardening cock on my backside, while your tongue licks the length of my neck.

You dont need to pay anyone to rub you down. I got you. Did you think of me last night?
Almost like he was reading my mind. Did I think of him last night? I was thinking of him right now, and last night. And…

I’ll never tell.
Never tell him about the intense orgasm that shook through my body at just the whisper of his name on my lips and the slightest flick of my clit.

You did didnt you? I havent stopped thinking about you… Im gonna see you tomorrow. A bath. Shit, that aint right. You killin me.
Yeah, I’m going to let all of those misused apostrophes go. He doesn’t need them. He can write any way he wants. Just his words alone are enough to repeat last night’s solo performance. Dammit. I wish I’d gotten my vibrator from my nightstand when I was at the house today. Just texting Briggs and I’m gonna need it, a couple of times.

Good night Briggs
I had to end the chat. I was starting to get too hot in the water. Usually when I was in a bath this long, I started to get chilly, but there wasn’t a cold bone in my body. Just texting Briggs turned me on, got me hot.

As I got into bed, just in my t-shirt and panties, I thought about Marcus and our lack of a fulfilling sex life. If he was so interested in banging all of those women, why wouldn’t he just come home and bang the crap out of me? I couldn’t understand this missing piece in the puzzle. I never turned him down, feigning a headache, or complaining about being too tired. I tried to be open and adventurous, willing to try new things, new ways to excite one another. I wanted to have a steamy and passionate marriage, but it was barely lukewarm. He never acted like he really wanted me, like he couldn’t resist me and had to have me. I wanted to be wanted, desired. I wanted him to need me, to not be able to get enough of me. Was that too much to ask of one’s husband. Shouldn’t a husband want to fuck his wife? Why Lauren? Why not me, his wife?

I went to bed with a heavy heart and a burdened mind. I figured it would be a restless night. I wasn’t about to masturbate to Briggs again; I didn’t want to use the archives either, because Marcus wasn’t starring in my fantasies ever again. I decided that I’d try the Xanax Char had given me “for peace of mind and relaxation.” I could definitely use some relaxation. After a while, I let my mind drift back to Briggs and his muscular thighs, and solid chest. I drifted off to sleep, thinking about how hard his entire body was.

The knocking on the door woke me. It was 9:38 a.m. Shit. Char was picking me for our spa day and I’d overslept. I ran to open the door, wearing just my ratty, old, nearly see-through Pearl Jam t-shirt and my boy-short underpants, that said, “You wish” on the butt. Char bought them for me for Christmas last year. She bought me underwear, inappropriate underwear, for every occasion. She’d be pleased that I had them on. I flung the door opened, before looking out the sidelight windows. Not Char!

Mortified, I pulled my shirt as far down over my panties, as it would go, which wasn’t far at all. “Shit. I’m sorry, um excuse me.” I closed the door, just a crack, “Can I help you?”

The man answered through the crack in the door, looking away, embarrassed, he said, “Miss Garrity, it’s me, Leo. Landscaping?”

I opened the door, a little more, peeking my head out, “Leo? Uh, yeah Leo, I’ll be right back.” I slammed the door and ran to the bedroom to get some pants. Holy shit what happened to Leo? Leo was so…so…so nerdy in school. The boy, man, on my front stoop was no nerd, no nerd at all. I threw on my yoga pants, a bra, and pulled my hair into a messy bun. Presentable.