The Sex Education of M.E. Page 19

  “I think children are a hard limit for me,” I said to Gia three nights later, as she sat on my back deck in the cool, fall evening. Mitzi returned to school for half a day and she was exhausted. I was paranoid as the reality of the accident hit me. She could have died. I could have lost another family member and I would have never forgiven myself for not being home. My guilt cup ran over, flooded the floor, and drained me.

  “Honey, this could have happened at any time. You could have been home, and she could have said they were going to the mall, and then not gone,” Gia chastised, recalling the ways of teenagers. A parent never gets the full truth of where they go.

  “I’d just like to think that Mitzi knew better,” I sighed.

  “Mitzi knew you wouldn’t like her going out with Cassie, to a college party, on a school night,” Gia looked down the bridge of her nose at me, as if she wore glasses. “She’s not stupid. She’s responsible. But she’s also young and foolish and things happen.”

  “Well, this could have cost her life,” I admonished.

  “It could have, but it didn’t,” Gia said, looking away from me. “How long are you going to hold it against her? And him for that fact?”

  “What do you mean?” I asked, spinning to face her direction.

  “You haven’t returned his calls, have you?” Gia questioned.

  “I hate that you know every move he makes.”

  “I don’t know if he is or isn’t calling you. What I know is you and I bet he is calling, and you aren’t answering.” She gave me her scolding look again. “And that fact that you hate I might know more about him than you, proves you care about him. You’re interested.”

  Damn it. I hated that she was right. Merek had been calling me, and I hadn’t responded to his calls. I was filled with disappointment at his lack of concern for Mitzi, when I had been interested in Cassie. I was disappointed that he hadn’t agreed with my initial assessment: Cassie was in the wrong taking Mitzi to a party and drinking when she was underage. But mostly, I was disappointed in myself that I wanted one more orgasm from a sexy man, and I’d ignored my phone when my child needed me.

  I exhaled deeply.

  “If I date a man with children, how do I get past the difference in parenting beliefs? Parenting skills? Opinions?”

  “You don’t get past them; you accept them for what they are. Differences in opinion and skill.”

  “What if I don’t love his children? What if I don’t like them, even? What if they don’t like me?” My voice rose with each question.

  “Emme, who cares? Are you dating the child? No. Are you marrying the man?” She paused for effect. “I didn’t think so. You’re dating. You’re trying each other out. Some things you’ll agree on. Some you won’t. You have to decide which ones you can live with and which ones you can’t.”

  “Children are a hard limit. I can’t live with ones who will be reckless with my child.” I reached for my glass of wine and gulped the sweet fall taste of the red. I loved the change in season, which meant a change in temperature, clothing choices, and specialty flavors.

  “Was Merek reckless with Mitzi?” She paused again. She was right. It wasn’t Merek who caused the accident.

  “Let’s back up for a second. What if it wasn’t Cassie? What if it was Kevin, her boyfriend?”

  I snorted in doubt.

  “Just hear me out,” she continued. “The point is this was an accident. A senseless, risky accident, that could have been worse, but thankfully wasn’t.” She crossed herself. “And it could happen again, but God willing, it won’t. Mitzi is a smart girl. She won’t make the mistake of getting in a car with someone she questions has been drinking twice. She also won’t try to go to a college party on a school night again. Or she might. She’s eighteen, Emme. She’s growing up.”

  Gia was right. In every word she sputtered was the truth, but I had trouble shaking my own guilt and the fear of what could have happened. My phone buzzed on the patio table and I quickly reacted by flipping it to glance at the screen. Merek Elliott. I hit ignore.

  “Stop ignoring him,” Gia bit, irritated at my hasty action. “I’ve never known you to be like this.”

  “Be like what?” I snapped.

  “Judgmental. He’s trying to talk to you and you’re shutting him out. Don’t you think he’s hurting, too? His child was in that accident. His child caused it. You want comfort and sympathy for what happened to Mitzi? Maybe he needs it for Cassie. You said he has fears she’ll be like her mother. This is confirmation of his greatest fear, if she’s drinking and driving and acting irresponsible. And he can’t control her any more than you can control Mitzi. They are maturing adults that don’t always have the judgment necessary to make good decisions.”

  I stared at my dark-haired friend, who was flirty and fun, and loved life more than anyone I knew.

  “How did you get so wise?” I inquired. Her children weren’t as old as mine.

  “I remember being young,” she remarked. I stared at her. Had I forgotten? Merek popped into my head; he certainly reminded me what it was like. The copious sex, the subtle attention, and the surprising compatibility was so refreshing, I felt young again. Was I making myself new? Yes, by living my life and taking the risk to be with Merek, but just like sex, this newness took two. Merek had been the key instrument to helping me experience what I wanted to experience in order to be young again. I couldn’t lose him. I didn’t want to let him go.

  In front of Gia, I clicked on Merek’s number. My eyes didn’t leave hers as I stared her down and waited for the line to ring through to him.

  Five. Six. Seven rings. I was ready to hang up when a breathy “hello” crossed the line.

  “Merek,” I said softly.

  “Emme,” he exhaled. The line remained silent after that, as if saying each other’s name in recognition was all we had left to say to one another.

  “How’s Mitzi?” he asked, and the simple question chipped away at my hardened heart.

  “She’s sore, but doing better. I made her go to school so she doesn’t get too far behind. She’s exhausted. Maybe I pushed her too hard,” I sighed, squinting up at the fading evening light. “How’s Cassie?”

  “She’s grounded for life,” he attempted to joke, but I didn’t laugh in response. He choked through the phone. “She’s sorry for what happened.” Silence filled the line again. “I’m sorry, too,” he breathed.

  I sighed softly, my shoulders sagging. “Me, too,” I whispered.

  “Why are you sorry?” he asked, with a surprised tone.

  “I said too much in my anger. In my fear.” I paused and twisted my lips. I didn’t know what else to say. Gia’s eyes weighed on me, and when I gazed sideways at her, her lips tweaked into a small smile.

  “Are you home?” he asked.

  “Yeah, Gia’s here.”

  “Can we come over?”

  My eyes shot up to Gia. “Who’s we?”

  “Cassie and I. She has something to say. I’d appreciate it, if you’d hear her out.”

  My heart thudded in my chest. My eyes still connected with Gia’s as she questioned me, mouthing: What?

  He wants to come over with Cassie, I mouthed back. Her smile deepened as she sat back in the chair with a thud. She slowly shook her head in disbelief as she stared out into my yard.

  “Okay.”

  They arrived roughly ten minutes later. Cassie moved with slow, exaggerated steps and the second she saw the black and blue marks on Mitzi, she burst into tears. Reaching out for Mitzi, they hugged like long lost friends. Cassie muttered her apology over and over into Mitzi’s shoulder and Mitzi stroked Cassie’s hair. My heart shattered at the sorrow. I had to believe the accident scared Cassie as much as it frightened Mitzi.

  When the girls pulled apart, Cassie glanced at her dad before facing me. Tears still slipped down her face as she took a deep breath.

  “I wanted to say how sorry I am for what happened. It was stupid. I should have never been drinking a
nd attempting to drive home. Mitzi was so worried she’d get in trouble and I didn’t want her to be late. I wasn’t thinking.” She gazed over at her dad.

  “Please, don’t be mad at my dad,” she started and Merek gasped. “Cassie,” he warned.

  “It’s not his fault. It’s mine. I know it. It was my mistake, so please don’t take it out on him.”

  “Cassie,” Merek choked.

  “I haven’t ever seen him like this. He smiles all the time. He’s always talking about you. He’s…happy. Don’t be mad at him,” she pleaded.

  “Cassie,” Merek stammered again then interrupted her plea. “This isn’t why we came here,” he addressed me, his voice full of confusion. We stared at one another. My eyes noticed the dark circles under his and the addition of wrinkles around them. Worry was written on his face and the irritation with Cassie’s outburst etched over his forehead. He rubbed it, shaking his head in frustration. Suddenly, his head snapped upward.

  “Cassie wanted to apologize,” he said. “I wanted to see that Mitzi was doing better.”

  In all the time they’d been there, I hadn’t said a word. It was as if my mouth couldn’t form a syllable. I didn’t know what to say to either of them.

  “I’m feeling better,” Mitzi offered, a tear slipping from her eye. “I’m sore and I’m tired, but I’m doing better,” she said to Cassie and Merek before looking over at me. We still stood just inside my living room, hardly out of the front entrance.

  “Cassie’s license has been suspended. She’s enrolling in therapy,” Merek added.

  “Dad,” Cassie admonished, her eyes lowering at the mention. Merek’s lids closed in defeat.

  “I think it’s very brave of you to face your issues,” I said to Cassie, surprising us all. Merek’s eyes shot open. Cassie’s head popped up. Mitzi’s face softened. “It’s very hard to face our fears, sometimes. It’s even harder to admit we have them,” I said, glancing in the direction of Merek, but afraid to meet his eyes. “Sometimes we just have to plow forward, to work past the past.”

  Cassie stared at me, her head slowly nodding. I didn’t know what else to do, but to reach forward and hug her to me. She was stiff at first, arms dangling at her side. I only intended a quick embrace, but when I pulled back, her arms encircled my waist and she held me to her. My hand dropped to rub up and down her back, and I felt the words more than I heard them whispered: “I’m sorry.”

  I glanced at Merek over his daughter’s head.

  Thank you, his tear-filled eyes spoke to me.

  On Friday night, I didn’t have to work. I looked forward to some long overdue sleep. Emme had forgiven Cassie, but she wasn’t exactly forthcoming in mending the fences with me. She answered my calls, but the conversation was stilted and brief. I didn’t like it. I didn’t know how we’d work through it. This was the messy part I wanted to avoid. Even if Cassie and Mitzi hadn’t been in the accident together, there could have been something else. Something that exposed my children, my biggest vulnerability. When Emme hugged Cassie, I knew how I felt about her. The realization hit me like a wave. I could love her. She was a good woman, with a compassionate heart, and I wanted to feel that daily.

  But she hadn’t forgiven me.

  “Dad, let’s go out for dinner,” Jake surprised me. Friday was the night I ordered pizza and watched whatever game was available while my children enjoyed a social life. Later, I’d find my brother at Bruno’s and, in the past, find a woman to bury myself in before returning home. I lived a dual life. It had been easier when I lived with my mother, and Jake was taken care of in my absence. Living in our new home, without another adult, I slowly became more conscious of how and when I did things. After hearing Jake and Cassie’s discussion a few weeks ago, it was clear to me that they knew more than I realized.

  “Where do you want to go?” I asked, staring at the television. I’d been home more often than not, finding things to do around our new home, attempting anything to keep myself busy and my mind free of Emme.

  “Dad,” Cassie snapped, “change your clothes. Put on your dark jeans and that plaid shirt you like so much.” I stared in disbelief at the recommendation. Cassie hated my purple plaid shirt with the white button snaps. She said it made me look like a hillbilly biker dude. Jake glared at Cassie while she smiled at me.

  “What’s going on?” I leaned over the arm of the leather lounger.

  “Just get dressed,” Cassie said again, holding her smile a little too firmly. “Don’t forget your cowboy boots.”

  Jake’s eyes closed and he shook his head. His hand came to his forehead in this way he had when he was flabbergasted with his sister’s ignorance. He looked up at me, continuing to shake his head.

  “I knew this wouldn’t work.” His eyes focused on mine.

  “What are you two up to?” I laughed, sitting forward in the chair, twisting to face them both.

  “Hostile takeover,” Jake stated. Cassie glared at him. My questioning glance shifted from one to the other of my children.

  “Just get dressed, Dad,” Cassie demanded softly. “Dark jeans, purple plaid and cowboy boots. Don’t ask questions.” The tone of her voice reminded me of my mother when she’d tell the kids to do something. I chuckled at the similarity. I’d missed my parents greatly this week, especially my mom, who was more of a mother to Cassie and Jake than their own. I stood and followed directions.

  Fifteen minutes later, we pulled up in front of Emme’s house. Jake drove my truck and the two of them eagerly exited. They walked confidently up to her front door and rang the bell.

  “Pizza,” Jake called out, knocking on the door. Emme’s daughter, Bree, opened it. I followed slowly behind, not certain why we were here.

  “She’s not cooperating,” Bree flapped her arms as she spoke when I reached the top of the front stoop. I entered their front hall feeling shaky and highly nervous.

  “What is going on?” I asked, more gruffly than I intended. Emme rounded the corner of her living room, stopping short when she saw me. Her hair was pulled up in a messy twist. She wore a heavy sweatshirt with shorts. Her make-up was minimal. She looked beautiful.

  “Merek?” she questioned. “What’s going on here?” She looked from one to the other of us. My shoulders shrugged; I was just as clueless as her.

  “Kidnapping,” Jake stated.

  “Surprise,” Mitzi interjected, a smile beaming from her still off-colored, bruised face.

  “Now, get freaking dressed,” Bree said, slapping her hands on her thighs, clearly frustrated with her mother. Emme stared at me, questioningly.

  “I have no idea.” I held up my hands in surrender.

  “You two are going out,” Cassie stated. “Rowdy’s.” My head shot up.

  “How do you know about Rowdy’s?” Concern that Cassie had been to the famous country bar in Wrigleyville was evident in my tone. Known for their line dancing and beer specials throughout Cub season, Rowdy’s was a place I’d frequented a while ago.

  “I know it’s one of your favorite places for country music,” Cassie shuddered.

  “I love country music,” Mitzi added. “Everyone knows about Rowdy’s.”

  “I don’t dance,” Emme stated, crossing her arms over her chest.

  “First time for everything,” Mitzi stated. “Like going on a real date,” she leaned in conspiratorially toward her mother. Emme stared at her oldest, and then slowly glanced around the room with an exasperated expression of defeat on her face.

  “I don’t think this is a good idea,” she stated. It was my turn to stare. I wasn’t taking her out, if she didn’t want to go anywhere with me.

  “I think I better…” I started.

  “Stay right there,” Cassie demanded.

  “Because she’s getting dressed,” Mitzi commanded, placing an arm around her mother and pushing her toward the staircase.

  “I think…” Emme said.

  “This is a great idea,” Jake and Bree interjected. We all stilled, and then burst
into laughter. The tension was thick and awkward, and even the laughter stifled a little, but it was helping.

  “Fine,” Emme said, like a petulant child, and I cringed at the word. She shook off her daughter and headed for the staircase.

  Fifteen minutes later, her hair was down. She wore a floral print dress covered by a jean jacket and a pair of flip flops.

  “You can’t dance in those,” I said, slowly rising from the couch were I’d been waiting. I felt like a schoolboy on my first date. Eyes on the boy, worried he’d attack the girl. I wanted to attack. I wanted to kiss that look of distrust off her face, then pin her to the wall and screw some sense into her. I wanted her, period.

  “I don’t have cowboy boots.”

  “I have the perfect pair,” Bree offered and ran up the stairs, returning immediately with a worn brown pair with turquoise designs. Emme slipped them on and stood upright, flipping back her hair.

  “I look ridiculous,” she stated.

  “You look beautiful,” I muttered, and all eyes were suddenly on me. Emme bit her lip, and the awkward tension returned to the room.

  “Okay, kids,” Jake said, clapping his hands. “No shenanigans. Don’t stay out too late. I want her home at a respectable time. Keep distance between you when you dance. And no fraternizing with the patron.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “That didn’t even make sense,” Bree laughed.

  “Okay,” Mitzi interjected. “Have fun.”

  Forget it, this was more awkward then being a teenage boy meeting the parents. The scrutiny of children had to be twenty times worse.

  “What are you going to do?” Emme asked, narrowing her eyes at Mitzi.

  “We are going to stay right here,” Cassie offered, wrapping an arm around Mitzi. “Pizza is coming in thirty minutes. Jake has his Chrome device. We aren’t going anywhere.”