Learning Lessons 4 of 8: Letting Him In // Chapter 3

Stir-fry tonight. Carrots, onions, peppers, broccoli, and cauliflower chopped, chicken browned, sprouts in the pan. Jess was over the stove, the steam feeling good on her face but making her hair a little heavy. She tied it back in place with an elastic hairband while dinner cooked.

Maybe she’d really gotten away with it. Another day at school today, the place rippling with gossip about the dirty incident someone witnessed over at the high school. That stud PE teacher and some blonde-haired girl. Some of them saying quietly, Wish it was me, giggling behind their hand. Not one funny look at Jess. Not one weird exchange that made her think someone out there in this ugly world was spreading the rumor that it was Jess Mapplethorpe. No one shunned her, everything seemed like business as usual today. The other lady teachers waving her over to their little groups so they could all discuss their perverted theories. What were they caught doing? Who do you think it was?

No one thought it was her? Maybe she should be a little insulted. Why couldn’t it be Jess?

The rice was done, sat now for a few minutes. She walked down the hall, opened the basement door and yelled down to Pete that dinner was ready.

“Up in a minute,” Pete yelled up from his dark little refuge. He was spending a lot of his time with those trains these last few days. Whatever it took him to get through this was fine with her. He was a saint for letting Tyler move in. They were doing the right thing. Sometimes, though, passing Tyler in their narrow hall, feeling how he filled up her living space, brushing against his body in the kitchen—after all the dirty, dirty things they’d done together—she wondered if she was kidding herself.

This had been her fault. Not entirely of course, but more her than Tyler. She knew better than to do that at his work. Knew better to even visit him, given the filthy things they’d done together. 

She was thirty-five. Ten years older than him—she was mature. She was everyone’s sweet Jess. How was it possible that she didn’t stop, tell him they needed to do this somewhere private? Even when she was a young girl she was never so crazy, so promiscuous. What was happening to her?

When she opened the door from the mudroom that led to the garage she saw Tyler with her boys, showing them how to do chin-ups. The three boys in a line, their backs to her. Tyler was hanging from the rafter, her boys gripping a bar across Tyler’s squat rack.

Tyler had his shirt off and she watched those big round muscles bunched up across his back and over his shoulders bulge and dance. She stood on the top step of their garage watching the three of them. Her boys were doing well, pulling their light bodies up and watching Tyler, trying to please him, get his attention.

“That’s it, dude. Do two more,” Tyler said.

Petey kept at it and so did Andy, his thin arms shaking.

“You can do it, Andy,” Jess said and she stepped onto the wooden steps and sat down at the top.

Petey said, “Did you see me, Mom?”

“Yes, I did, Petey. You were doing great.”

The single garage door was open to the early evening blue light, getting dark on her little cul-de-sac. What must the neighbors think, looking into their lit up garage, seeing their new tenant with her children like this? This muscular beast living with this young family. Could they ever suspect?

Andy shook his way through the last one he could possibly do and jumped down like he had just won a trophy.

“Raaah,” he yelled and he flexed for his mommy, a double biceps then down into some Incredible Hulk pose.

“You’re amazing, Andy,” she said and she clapped for him.

Tyler jumped down and turned, his muscles rippled and she had to look away.

“Glad to see you boys are bundled up out here,” she said.

Tyler had the boys in heavy sweats, towels tucked into the collar like Rocky Balboa. She watched Tyler bend at the waist, pluck his t-shirt off the squat rack between two fingers. Steam was rising up off him.

“Dinner’s ready, boys,” she said, her eyes on Tyler just behind Pete and Andy. She watched that shirt go over his head, his deep six pack sucked in as he shrugged himself into it, pulled it down that lean hard body. His arms stretched out the sleeves of his tight t-shirt. They were so thick she couldn’t come close to putting her hands around them. He was so strong, so hard, his arms felt like steel when she ran her hands over them. She would watch her pale thin hand so light against the dark inked skin of them, her hands would claw at the dragons while he plunged in and out of her.

“What’s for dinner, mom?”

“Stir fry, Petey,” she said. She pulled the front of his sweatshirt, snagged him into a hug, squeezed him tight.

“Agh, Mom,” he yelled, pulling his head away from her in case she might try and kiss him too.

Andy said, “Are you crying mom?”

She touched her cheek, felt it wet. Her eyes felt swollen and puffy.

“No, Andy, it’s just the onions,” she said.

“I hate onions,” Petey said, still held close to her.

“I know, kiddo.” She kissed him, said, “I made some without onions for you and Andy.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

She let Petey go, picked up her Andy and carried him into the kitchen, Petey and Tyler right on her heels. She put Andy in his chair, the other two finding their seats at the table.

“Hey, hey,” she said firmly to Sargent who was standing underneath the oven, his black nose checking out the pots on the stove. “Don’t you dare,” she said.

She got the boys’ plates served—no onions—and did one for Tyler. She put them on the table for them, the boys said, “Thanks, Mom,” Tyler said, “Thanks, Mrs. M.”

She didn’t like it. How did he mean that? She wasn’t his mother’s age. She was older but she was nowhere even old enough to be his mother. Not sexy, Tyler. Not sexy at all. She didn’t respond to him.

“Where is Pete?” she said under her breath.

She went to the basement door and yelled down again.

Pete yelled back, “Coming.”

The last time Jess had been convinced to take Just The Tip she was fifteen. Eddy Maxwell convinced her to let him put the head of his skinny penis inside her when she fell for him after two weeks vacation with her parents, staying at that rental cottage up in northern Michigan. She fell for that long-haired kid with the Nirvana shirt and that was kind of technically who she lost her virginity to although he hadn’t even touched her hymen. She cried for a day when she got home and she never heard from him again. Tyler would have been Andy-boy’s age that same summer.

“You okay, Mom?”

“Huh, yeah, Petey, I’m fine. Just felt a little funny there.”

“Hurry up, Dad, we’re waiting,” Andy said, his head lolling back in exasperation.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry, guys,” Pete said, coming into the kitchen and going to the sink to wash his hands. “Start without me.”

Tyler paused, his mouth full of food, looking around the table. He was already a good way through his dinner. His eyes stopped at Jess and she smiled at him.

“How was school today, boys?” Pete asked.

“We were working out with Tyler,” Andy said.

“Oh, yeah?” Pete said, working his fork through his dinner.

Petey said, “Yeah, Dad, we did pushups and sit-ups and chin-ups—”

“Well, Tyler used to teach gym, guys,” Pete said. She knew Pete was hurting, hearing this from his boys. They were really taking to the guy that their mom had been having sex with. Her weird husband was in physical pain from this. But he loved it. With Tyler in the house now, she could really make him suffer even if she were trying not to.

“We know, Dad.”

Don’t ask him why he doesn’t teach any more, boys, please, not with me here at the table. I might lose it.

Pete’s phone buzzed, and he slid it out of his chest pocket, looked down at it. He frowned, kept reading. “Excuse me, everyone,” he said, pushed himself from the table. He went and leaned on the counter and made a phone call. Jess kept eating, heard Pete talking behind her. It was work.

“Shoot, guys,” Pete said, standing behind her, his hands on the back of her chair. “We’ve got a problem with the silent alarm down at the store. Keeps going off, and the police are there.”

“The police?” Andy said, excited.

“Yeah, Andy. Corporate wants me down there, gotta meet the police and the alarm company.”

“They don’t have someone there?”

“No, they—”

“Someone else?” Jess said.

“No, I’m closest anyway.”

“Pete, your dinner…”

“Sorry, Jess, I gotta go. Can you wrap it up for me? I’ll eat it when I get back. I’ll probably just be an hour.”

“An hour?” she said. She wasn’t sure how she felt being alone with Tyler like this. This was a little weird. It was nighttime now, family time. This was the time that she and Pete would spend with the boys before they went to bed. Now she was going to spend it alone with Tyler?

  *

It was almost two and a half hours before Pete got home, and it put him in a terrible mood. He’d had to grab a burger at the McDonald’s in the Save-Mart or he was going to pass out. He was filled with dread standing there in the kitchen knowing he was leaving his family with another man in the house.

Standing now in the front hall he could hear the boys laughing hysterically from the family room.

Andy was giggling so high he was squeaking. He heard Petey, saying, Mom, Mom, Mom, over and over trying to get her attention. He walked through the kitchen, the lights dimmed, table cleared, counters and stove cleaned.

He heard Tyler’s deep voice encouraging, “You can do it, reach.”

They were all having a lot of fun without him.

“Reach, Jess, reach,” Tyler said again, sitting on the couch.

Pete was in the doorway, his heart dropping into his guts.

“You can do it, Mom,” Petey said. He was leaning against Tyler’s knee, holding a square board with a spinning arrow on it. Both of them watching Jess and Andy on the floor.

They were playing Twister, the coffee table slid away, sheet spread on the floor. Sargent was watching through the sliding glass door, his tail wagging, lit up by the porch light. He barked when he saw Pete.

Andy was on his back, arms behind him, holding himself up, one leg stretched far, planted in a yellow circle. Jess was spread over him like a spider. She was on all fours, her butt up in the air like a yoga pose, her right leg straining to get her bare foot onto a red circle.

The tendons in her neck stood out, she was laughing, reaching, her hair tied back, her ponytail hanging over her shoulder. She’d changed into black tights and a loose sweatshirt, but putting her body like this, Pete—and Tyler—could see up her sweatshirt, see her white tummy and her black bra, see the curve of her rump, her beautiful legs, thin knees. It was an awful scene.

They could have been playing Connect Four, Candyland, Operation. They could have been playing Hungry Hungry Hippos. But they were playing Twister.

What had Pete missed? Had Jess and Tyler had a turn together? He could picture his boys laughing as they flicked the spinner, encouraging Mom to play with Uncle Tyler. His kids seeing their mom have fun with another man. Her on her back, legs askew, hands and feet in colored dots, Tyler’s strong arms holding himself above her with ease, them laughing, looking into each other’s eyes. Jess wouldn’t have let the boys see that, would she? It crushed him thinking about it.

“Mom, Mom…” Petey was still trying to get her attention. “Mom, this one here, you’ll never get that other one.” Petey was in her line of sight now, pointing to a red dot she hadn’t seen.

“Petey, I can’t bend my leg like that.”

“Yes, you can, Jess,” Tyler said and laughed.

“Quiet, you,” Jess said, peeking under her arm at Tyler. She saw Pete looming in the doorway.

Pete saw the guilt on her face. She knew how terrible this was. How wrong.

“Oh, hi, Pete,” she said.

“Hi, Dad,” Pete said.

“Hi, Dad. I’m winning,” Andy said from under his mom.

“That’s good, Andy-boy.” Pete leaned on the archway.

Jess crossed her leg underneath her, careful not to hit Andy. She stretched it over trying to get her little toe to touch a red circle. Her leg shook with the effort. Her butt cheek pinched a crease in her tights showing Pete and Tyler her round rump as if it were bare. Jess was laughing now, giving up, her arms shaking. She collapsed next to Andy.

“Agh, you win again, Andy,” she said. She lay on her back next to him with her knees up, her bare feet on the mat. Andy climbed on her and she hugged him.

“How did it go, Pete?” she asked him over Andy’s shoulder.

“Shouldn’t the boys be in bed?”

“Aw, Pete, they wanted to stay up for you,” she said.

“Yeah, well, it’s late.”

Petey came to his side, grabbed the side of his palm, “Yeah, sorry you missed dinner, Dad.”

“Me too, Petey, glad you guys had fun without me. Come on Andy,” he said and held his other hand out for his littlest boy.

“You okay, Dad?” Petey asked him.

“Yeah, no, Pete. I’m fine. Let me get you boys to bed. Tuck you in.”

He walked them down the hall. Left Jess and Tyler in the family room.