The Sex Education of M.E. (20 page)

“Mr. Whittington?” The young girl’s voice nearly slapped me in the face as we climbed the staircase. “Mom, what is Mr. Whittington doing here?”

Emme stopped cold, one foot landing on the stair above her other. She slowly turned toward me, then returned her attention to her daughter. The resemblance to this girl was nonexistent. Dark hair and dark eyes could only be the trademark of her father.

“This is Fire Commander Elliott. He came to check a loose hose,” she choked on the last words.

“Mom,” the girl eyed me. “That’s Mr. Whittington, Jake’s dad.”

I remained frozen on the stairs, slow to recognize that she might have been one of many girls in the neighborhood to visit our new home.

“Mr. Whittington,” Emme whispered. Regaining her composure, she took another step upward. “Mitzi, let us through,” she snapped at her daughter. As Emme entered the kitchen at the top of the stairs, another girl, who was clearly her daughter, met my gaze. Blonde hair and bright blue eyes matched her mother’s perfectly.

Emme didn’t stop, however. She continued to march toward her front door and stormed out it onto her front stoop. I followed behind, bracing for what was to come.

“You have forty-two seconds.”

“Why forty-two?” I laughed, attempting to ease the tension. Her arms crossed. There was no humor in her expression.

“My name is Merek Elliott
Whittington
, fire commander of Station 119. I go by the name Merek Elliott, like it’s all one name, but Elliott is my middle name. It was my mother’s maiden name.”

She waited for me to continue, not needing to spell out the questions I knew she would ask.

“I have a son, Jake. He’s seventeen, and we just moved to the neighborhood.”

“Wait, you live here?” she blurted, unfolding her arms, leaning forward astonished.

“I bought the old MacAllister home. The one with a pool.” Even though I was the new owner, the home was deemed the MacAllister house, named for the previous owners of over forty years. Its trademark was the in-ground pool.

“So you don’t live in that apartment,” she gasped when realization hit her. “What is it? Some place to…to…fuck people?” she hiss-whispered.

“It’s my brother’s apartment. Marshall. He travels a lot, and for obvious reasons, I took you there.”

“Obvious reasons?” she choked.

“Yeah, you have kids at your house. I have kids at my house. It’s neutral.”

“How…how many…” her voice nearly sobbed. The implication was clear.

“I’ve never, ever taken anyone there beside you, Emme. You have to believe me.”

“How can I believe you?” Her eyes filled with liquid as she questioned mine. “I know nothing about you.” She paused. “You lied to me.” Her tone was bitter.

“We were pretending,” I stated, straightening in my defense.

“I wasn’t pretending,” she gasped, running a hand through her messy hair. “I never lied about me. You … you did.” Her voice grew shaky.

“I didn’t lie to you. Absolutely did not lie.”

“You didn’t tell all the truth,” she stated, completely flabbergasted with me as her hand lowered and slapped at her thigh.

“I…” I didn’t know what more to say. “Don’t lump me with him,” I snapped.

“How dare you!”

“You did dare me, Emme. Sex, remember? That’s what you wanted. But I’m telling you everything right now. I work for the Chicago Fire Department. I live three blocks away. I’m a single father to Jake and Cassie.”

“Who’s Cassie?” She blinked, a sliver of liquid rolled from her eye.

“My daughter. The girl at the bar. She just turned twenty-one and I didn’t want her there. The Square is filled with old horny men and desperate women, and Cassie’s too young to be there.” Something struck in her expression and she stood taller, pulling back against my hands that gripped her arms for attention.

“Desperate. Women,” she choked.

“Not you, Emme,” I assured, but it wasn’t reassuring. She broke my hold by stepping back.

“I’m such a fool,” she muttered under her breath, shaking her head vigorously back and forth.

“Emme, I …”

“Just stop,” she barked. “Just stop right there.” A hand came up to still me, putting space between us. “I’m … I’ve just … oh my God, what did I just do with you …” Her voice caught as she covered her mouth holding in the sob, threatening to escape. Her body shook, and in desperation, I reached for her, prepared to envelop her in my arms, and apologize for holding it all back from her. But she broke free of me, before I even had a grasp of her. Darting up her front steps, she yanked open the screen door, and from the angle where I stood, I saw her run up to her second floor. Her blonde teenage daughter stood inside the doorway, staring me down in eyes that matched her mother’s. Then she slowly closed the door on me.

“Did you know?” I yelled into the phone.

“I might have had an inkling…” Gia answered, sheepishly, guiltily.

“He’s your damn neighbor, Gia. He lives next door. Did you … did you set this up?” The pause was telling.

“I might have worked your phone, then hinted that you’d be interested, then told him some ways to win your heart.”

“Win my heart,” I choked. “He used my body.”

“You wanted to use his,” she reminded me, bluntly. “He was a willing participant.”

“Because he’s done this often,” I retorted. “Oh my God, Gia, did you have sex with him, too?”

“Because we’re friends, and you’re in shock right now, I’m going to ignore the insinuation,” Gia stated, fighting her own anger at my tone. “He did not come onto me, and I did not come onto him. He lives next door and I saw the perfect opportunity to help you.”

“Help me?” I sobbed. “He’s wrecked me.”

“How?” she stated, firmly.

“He lied to me. Did you know he had children?

“You didn’t?” Her stunned tone told she thought I knew.

“He never talked about them. Not his job. Not his ex-wife. Please tell me he’s not still married,” I nearly shrieked and my skin crawled.

“He’s not married, and as far as I know I don’t think he ever has been.”

“He lied.” My voice faded and my hand gripped back my hair, ready to pull it off my own head.

“Did he? Or did he not tell you the whole truth?”

“What in the hell is the difference?” I huffed.

“The difference is, maybe he wanted to pretend, too. He’s a single father of teenage children, and maybe he wanted a little identity freedom, just like you.”

“But I told him what I did, where I lived … I … wait, he knew where I lived because of you,” I clarified.

“Yes, when he mentioned that you had a headache, I explained that you suffered migraines.”

“Gia, that’s personal.”

“Did he come to take care of you?”

“Obviously only because you told him to,” I snorted, feeling more the fool with each new discovery. “So the bike ride, the lunch, the zoo …” I drifted off afraid to mention all the different ways he’d touched my body.

“I know nothing of those things.”

“Gia!” I groaned.

“I’m serious. If you had a real date, he did that all on his own.”

“Sounds like everything else he did was at your direction,” I snipped.

“He did no such thing. He was interested. You were interested. I was simply a guiding light.”

“You knew he was a fireman, didn’t you? You called him specifically today.”

“I won’t deny it,” she chuckled. While Gia seemed to be enjoying her matchmaking skills, she failed to see that she’d failed. Dismally.

“I don’t plan to ever see him again,” I stated defiantly.

“That would be impossible, as he lives next door to me.”

“Well, I don’t plan to ever visit you either,” I assured her.

“Emme, honey, that’s not true.”

I remained silent to emphasize my point.

“Look, I adore you,” she started. “And you wanted this. You needed it. You deserved it,” she emphasized. “And I just wanted to see it happen for you. Nate Peters was a perfectly respectable guy, and he wasn’t for you. You need to be wild and carefree, and Merek was your chance.”

“Well, that chance is over,” I snorted.

“Don’t say that. Cool down, give it time. He liked you. He did, and he wasn’t fooling around with other women.”

“How do you know that? He took me to his brother’s apartment. He could have had days of the week scheduled out.”

“Emme, stop it. He didn’t do that and you know it. He called you each night he was free, and the other nights he was at the firehouse.”

“How can you be so sure?” But I knew the answer. Merek didn’t make a move without Gia knowing, Gia orchestrating everything.

“He didn’t even like me, did he?” I whispered. “He did it all because you asked him to, but why?”

“Of course, he liked you, honey. What’s not to like? He did it because he feels like you. He just wanted to have sex.”

“But he had it all the time.”

“People change,” she responded, her voice exasperated. “Maybe he wanted something new?”

“Oh, right. Forty-two-year old hot guy seeking widowed, round lady. Very plausible.”

“Emme, stop it. He found you attractive. He wouldn’t have slept with you, if he didn’t.”

“Do not tell me you know his sexual history?” My head banged back against the wall. Rolling it back and forth, I couldn’t believe the details she knew.

“I don’t. But let’s be realistic, he wouldn’t have slept with you, if he didn’t find you attractive.”

“He might.”

“A man that looks like him isn’t desperate, honey. He did it because he wanted to.”

What did that say about a woman like me? Was I so desperate?
Then again, he was an attractive man, so at least I was lucky in that aspect. His body and his features were overly pleasing.

“Emme, don’t overthink this. You’re forty-two years old. You’re still young, beautiful, and vibrant. You have life in you. Live it. Take charge. Take what you want. You wanted to have fun. Wasn’t it fun? He was good, right? You needed this. He was the ice-breaker. The transition man. Now, you’re ready.”

Ready?
I wanted to scream. I couldn’t go through any of this ever again. The reality was I’d never have sex again because I’d never be able to keep my emotions separate from the action. As much as I wanted that sexual freedom to be with Merek, or any man, it wasn’t going to happen for me. I wasn’t built to be a fuck buddy. I wasn’t made to be friends with benefits. I was me, and I needed more of an emotional attachment. I wanted a relationship. The sob escaped me as reality took over.

“Gia, I need to go,” I said through a covered mouth. I clicked off the phone before I could hear her response.

“Mom.” A tentative knock jiggled the door.

“I’ll be out in a few minutes.” Trying to sound cheerful, I gave up quickly. Sometimes a mom just needs a moment in the bathroom to cry. Curling into myself, I sobbed, the second Mitzi cleared the door. Deep, wracking tears of stupidity and heartbreak were muffled as best I could with double coverage of hands over my mouth.
I just needed a few seconds
, I told myself.
I’ll be fine, in a minute
.

Two nights later, I curled up on my bed, attempting to read. Some nights, I was tired of all the romance in romance novels. It wasn’t ever going to be like it was in books. On the other hand, some stories were so hot I couldn’t help myself. If Christian Grey was the best sex I’d have, I’d take it. I’d read the book before, so tonight I skimmed for review.

Mitzi entered my room. Summer camp was over. Summer session courses were finished for me. It was August, and we had a few weeks’ reprieve before the cycle started again. School. Work.

“You’re reading that smut again?” she laughed.

“Well…” I didn’t have an intelligent answer.

“Bree’s watching Harry Potter again.” She rolled her eyes. She didn’t understand the love of characters as much as Bree and I did. That strong connection one could feel to someone fictional. I nodded, sensing she had something more she wanted to tell me. She crawled over me, then untucked her father’s side of the bed. Pulling the covers up to her neck, she smiled up at me. For a brief flash, I saw the child in her at eighteen. The little girl who wanted to sleep with mom and dad after a bad dream. She swooshed her legs under the sheets for a second, slicing back and forth under the tight tuck.