Keith let go of his wrists but then he cupped the back of Scott’s head, fingers digging in as he kissed him again, hard, deep, possessively.
“If you think I’m going to let you just walk out of my life after this weekend, think again.”
Scott kept his hands over his head. “Ditto.”
Keith raked his other hand through Scott’s hair, front to back, almost tenderly.
“Let’s get cleaned up,” Keith said, sounding hoarse. “I think we need to talk some more.”
Chapter Seven
Kennedy not quite intoxicated was even more annoying that Kennedy intoxicated. Her rapid-fire chatter over dinner sped up into machine gun bursts that made Noel wish she had a ball gag there to shove in her friend’s mouth.
“So how you been dealing with Stacy Moog’s bitch of a mom this year?” Kennedy asked Noel.
Kennedy taught fourth graders. Many of Kennedy’s students from last year had ended up in Noel’s class this year.
“I had another go-round with her last week,” Noel said, at least glad to be talking about something work-related to keep her mind off…other things. “Stacy flunked another spelling test. I’m bringing in the guidance counsellor for an eval. I seriously think she’s got some sort of a learning disability going on. Her math skills are iffy, too.”
“Dyslexia?”
“Maybe. I don’t know. I would have thought it’d be caught sooner.”’
“She was homeschooled until the middle of last year. Her parents got divorced and her mom had to go back to work.”
Noel groaned. “Crap.”
“You didn’t know that?”
“No. Nobody told me that. I only looked at your summary notes from the end of last year. I didn’t go through her full records. I’ve got thirty kids in my class. That explains a lot.”
“Hey, good luck with that. I tried and tried and beat my head against that wall. Momma Moog went to the principal and Mary basically told me to let Stacy advance since her grades were borderline. Gave her some extra credit stuff to do in a couple of areas, she pulled it off. Bam. Not my problem. She barely passed the FCATs last year.”
Eliza had been listening to their conversation. “What about the standardized testing and stuff?”
“Yeah, that’s all bullshit,” Kennedy told her. “We’re teaching to the test now, basically. And the tests are bullshit. They don’t want to hurt the kids’ self-esteem by holding them back. A student would just about have to blow up the school at this point to get held back a year in grade school.”
“Gee, thanks for the heads-up,” Noel shot back, now thoroughly irritated at her friend. They were already ramping up for FCATs and Noel wasn’t sure the girl could even pass them.
“I’m sorry. Like you, I’m dealing with thirty kids, including four who are ESL. Fortunately for me, my Spanish is better than their English, and I’ve nearly gotten them up to speed so they can at least advance to the next grade without being totally in the weeds when they get there.”
“Sorry.” Noel picked through her risotto with her fork. “I’m just getting really burned out. I had high hopes for being a teacher. I wanted to help make a difference. Now it feels like the system’s beating me down and trying to get me to conform to the lowest common denominator.”
She was also struggling not to feel that maybe her asshole family had been right that she’d made a mistake by choosing teaching as a career.
“Well, you’ve seen the light now,” Kennedy said. “That’s about what it amounts to at this point. Just watch yourself on Facebook. That Moog woman is a nut. Don’t let her friend you.”
“Oh, I haven’t, don’t worry.” She didn’t friend any of the parents of her students. Not unless it was after the school year and she was friends with them in real life as well. Heck, there were very few of her fellow teachers she friended. She didn’t even have her occupation listed on her profile. She did have Scott listed as her husband, and her college and hometown, but that was only so she could stay in touch with her friends from high school and college up in Indiana.
And her brothers and sisters, for what good it did her.
What did it say that she had more contact with them via Facebook than she did on the phone or real life?
Her parents weren’t even on Facebook, so she had even less contact with them. They were too busy with their lives to pay her much attention, and any time she did call them to say hello, the condescension flowed like rancid honey through the connection.
She didn’t need that.
When they finished dinner, Eliza drove them home, dropping Kennedy off first. As they headed toward Noel’s, Eliza broached the subject.
“So how are you going to handle this weekend?”
Noel shrugged. “I don’t know. Not thinking about it, I guess.”
“What if he meets someone?”
“Part of me hopes he does, and part of me hopes he doesn’t. I know what the inevitable conclusion will be, and I want him to be happy, but I can’t help but selfishly hope we keep going the way we are.”
“Which isn’t fair to either of you.”
“I know.”
“Sometimes, you have to make the hard decisions, take the hard risks, to make a better life for yourself.”
“I have a good life now,” she quietly said.
“Uh, yeah. You’re forcing yourself to be his Dominant, when you hate doing it.”
Noel looked at her.
“Honey, please,” Eliza said. “I top Rusty all the time. I have fun doing it. Watching you and Scott…it’s painful. For me, anyway. You’re just so not into it, it’s sad. I can see it. Maybe because I know you two better than some people, but I watch you play and just want to smack the crap out of Scott for pushing you into this role.”
“He didn’t push me into it.”
“Bullshit. Maybe he didn’t force you into it, but he’s not backing off and giving you the freedom of choice.”
“He is.”
Eliza glanced at her, eyebrow raised.
“I want to make him happy.”
“Making yourself unhappy is not the way to do it.”
“I’m already unhappy, so what difference does it make?”
“Wow. That’s a pretty fatalistic viewpoint.”
“It’s just a matter of if, not when, he meets a guy. Then we end up getting divorced. Then…” She turned away, looking out the passenger window.
“Again, not a healthy point of view to have,” Eliza pointed out, “but it’s your life. I’m your friend.” She sighed. “Do you want to spend the weekend at our place? The mini-me isn’t coming home this weekend for a visit. You can get out of your head for a while. Maybe a change of location will do you good.”
“No, I’m okay. I’m used to being alone at home. I’ll just pretend he’s at work.”
They pulled into Noel’s driveway. Eliza shifted the car into park and turned to her.
“I’m not trying to tell you how to run your life. But I’m concerned about you. If your worry is a place to live, you can live with us if you leave him. You’ve got summer coming up in a couple of months. Maybe that’s when you need to take the leap and make the changes so that going into next school year you’re settled and have that all behind you.”
“Maybe he’ll come home this weekend with it out of his system.”
“Sweetie? I’m your friend. And I’m calling bullshit. If you want me to piss on your leg and tell you it’s raining, I’m not that kind of friend. I can’t be. I’m the brutally honest friend who’ll walk through fire with you, but I won’t lie to you. There is an ocean of fish out there. Trying to get one guppy in a small fish bowl to take the hook when you’re fishing with the wrong bait isn’t going to lead to anything good. And you know it.”
“But I love him.”
“I know that, too. Sometimes the kindest thing we can do for the people we love the most is to let them go, even if it rips us apart from the inside out. By holding onto him, you’re denying yourself the opportunity to move forward. You need to go through the grief process. You’ve anchored one of your feet in a concrete block of denial, and the other in a block of bargaining. That’s not how life works. Two years, honey.”