Page 22 of Teach Me Your Ways

10

CECE

Ileaned back in the Adirondack chair and closed my eyes. My hair was still damp after my shower. It was one of those perfect end-of-summer nights. The air was thick and less humid than usual. It was just barely cool enough to make sitting on the back porch tolerable. Crickets chirped from the hedges along the west side of the property.

The day had bordered on nightmarish. I had shown up dressed completely wrong and I had been too proud to ask to go home and change. At least Stone had taken pity on me, not that I wanted his pity. What I wanted was for him to look at me the way he had when he’d caught me changing in his office, like I was a goddess he wanted to worship.

I imagined the definition of hell would be all about being denied things you wanted and needed. That was exactly what I felt about Professor Stone. The next few months were going to be sheer hell. I was expected to work alongside him without ever touching him. I knew he wanted me, which made this whole thing better and worse at the same time.

While professors weren’t allowed to date students, there were no rules against a professor dating a grad student. I might have checked the rules online. So the only thing that was stopping him from having me was him. It was irritating that he thought I was some immature girl that would tell everyone I was banging the teacher.

Mom slid open the glass doors and stepped out. She was carrying a bottle of wine, two plastic cups, and a tray.

“You should have been a juggler.” I sat forward and took the bottle from her.

“Kid’s out like a light,” she said, settling into the other chair. She quickly put the tray of cheese and crackers on the table between us. “She made me read that dragon book twice, then informed me she would be living in a real castle someday.”

I snorted, taking the cup she passed me. “Let’s hope so.”

“We better brush up on our curtsying. She might be related to us, but I have no doubt she’s going to make Grammy and Mommy curtsy.”

I filled a cup for each of us, then took the first sip and let the slight bitterness wash over my tongue. I wasn’t a wine connoisseur. It didn’t bother me if it was cheap. I’d drink wine out of a box.

We sat in comfortable silence for a minute, each nursing our glasses of wine and nibbling on crackers and slices of sharp cheddar. It was all inexpensive stuff but it felt fancy.

The rental house Mom had secured for us might be old and creaky, but it had a wraparound porch and a giant oak in the backyard. It felt like a fresh start for all three of us. Three generations of Monroes. I was so grateful my mother was willing to put off her dreams of traveling around the world to help me with Sophie. I knew there was no way I could have done all of this without her help. It was so much better leaving my daughter in the care of my mother instead of a daycare or a stranger. We didn’t have to deal with lice outbreaks and the circle of germs and viruses.

“Tomorrow’s the big day?” Mom asked.

“It is. First day of class.”

Mom knew a little about the mix-up with the TA jobs, but I didn’t tell her about the incident. I also didn’t tell her about how attractive he was or the fact he wanted to fuck me as badly as I wanted to fuck him.

Mom reached for another cracker. “Nervous?”

“Terrified.”

She grinned over her glass. “You’ll crush it. Just don’t faint. And don’t let them see you sweat. You walk in there like you’re the boss. You act like you’ve been on a million digs and found whatever the equivalent of King Tut’s tomb is.

I laughed. “Well, we’ll mostly be in the classroom, but I will do my best.”

She tapped the side of her head with her index finger. “It’s all mindset. Walk in there like you’re the queen of the archeology world and they’ll believe it.”

That was Mom. Nothing scared her. She wasn’t ever the most beautiful woman in the world, but she acted like it. Mom’s confidence was immeasurable. I had inherited some of it, but not all. Some things still terrified me, like trying to be a professional around the professor. Grady. I ran my tongue across the back of my teeth just thinking about getting to use his name.

“I can’t decide if I’m more afraid of the students or Professor Stone.”

“Is he a grumpy old fart?”

I almost choked on my wine. “Uh, no.”

She sat forward and turned in her chair. The look on her face made me cringe. She was using those mom powers. I knew the powers because the minute—well more like a few months after giving birth—I had that power. I knew there was no way I was going to be able to keep all of the little details about the professor from my mother.

“Cecily.” Mom used that tone that said she knew something and I could either tell her or she was going to find out.

“It’s nothing.”

“Cecily.”