CHAPTER FIFTEEN
MARCUS
“Since our last appointment, I did what you suggested and signed us all up for surfing lessons,” I said.
I felt a sense of pride coursing through me as I announced my progress to Dr. Miller. And as flashes of my night with Emma scrolled through my head, I felt a sense of lust shoot through me, making my jeans a little tighter in the crotch.
Dr. Miller smiled politely, looking pleased. “How'd that go?”
“It's going well, I suppose,” I said. “Two lessons in so far. Zoey loves it, as I suspected. Zack was hesitant at first, but he's starting to come around.”
“That's excellent. And you?” he asked me. “How do you feel about it?”
“Honestly? I just watched the first lesson,” I said. “The girl who teaches the classes is an old friend – my neighbor actually, and if I'm being completely honest, I was afraid to look like a fool in front of her, so I declined to participate and just watched the first time out. But the kids managed to convince me to try the next time around. It wasn't as bad as I thought, but I'm still struggling a bit with the idea of looking like a complete idiot in front of Emma.”
“But you'll keep going?” he asked me.
“I figured we would,” I said with a shrug. “But it's going to get very complicated from here on out.”
Dr. Miller arched an eyebrow as he looked at me. “Oh? How so?”
I knew I needed to talk about what was happening with Emma, but I didn't know how to bring it up without embarrassing myself. It was crazy because she was a consenting adult and I knew Dr. Miller likely wasn't going to judge me for my relationship with her, but I was still afraid that he might. I knew it was all in my own head, but I couldn't stop feeling like a dirty old man. I was a cliché and didn't want to admit that I slept with the babysitter, but there were some complex feelings going on below the surface that I needed to talk about.
Like guilt. Guilt that I'd taken advantage of Emma. And guilt that I'd somehow been unfaithful to Gina. Rationally, I knew that my feelings were silly and unfounded. But my emotions rarely operated on the rational level.
So, I decided to suck it up, judgment from Dr. Miller or not, and lay all my cards on the table.
“Well, the instructor, my neighbor, her name is Emma, and we've been intimate,” I said.
My doctor raised an eyebrow, looking surprisingly even more pleased with things. “That's good,” he said. “I know you've struggled with the idea of being intimate with women in the past, so this is a good sign. It's a sign of forward movement. Progress. It tells me that you're starting to get yourself unstuck from the past.”
He looked at me and I felt like a bug pinned to a board beneath his scrutiny. I couldn't meet his gaze and I felt the heat and color rushing into my face.
“What is it, Marcus?” he asked. “You seem to be struggling with something.”
“I just, well, I can't help but feel bad about it,” I said. “A little guilty, to be honest.”
“Because of your wife, you mean?”
“No, well, that's part of it,” I said with a laugh. “But mostly it's because she's my neighbor. She's younger than me, and – ”
“How much younger?”
I sighed and leaned back in my seat. This was where the rubber met the road and I was suddenly terrified of admitting the truth of it all. I'd come this far, too far to turn back I told myself. I cleared my throat and forced myself to meet Dr. Miller's steady gaze.
“She's twenty-one,” I said. “She's been babysitting my kids for years now, and it just feels so weird. I feel so conflicted about it all because I'm so much older than she is. On one hand, she's this incredible young woman. On the other hand, she's so young, and my babysitter. How much of a damn cliché am I, Dr. Miller?”
A small smile played at the corners of his mouth, but I didn't see the faintest trace of judgment in his eyes, which surprised me, quite frankly.
“Does she make you happy, Marcus?” he asked me simply.
It seemed like such an odd question considering what I was dealing with, but I answered honestly, “Yes, she does actually,” I said. “The kids love her and she's great with them, she always has been. And for a while now, I’ve found myself thinking, ‘if only I could find someone like her’.”
“Why not her?” Dr. Miller asked me.
“What?”
“You said you'd like to find someone like her,” he said, his tone neutral. “Why not be with her instead of finding someone like her? It seems to me that the genuine article is always better.”
“Because of her age, for one thing,” I said. “I'm almost middle-aged, Dr. Miller. I've been married before, have two kids; she's just starting out in life. She doesn't need my baggage. I feel like I'd be holding her back, keeping her from really experiencing life at that age.”
“Isn't that up to her to decide?” he asked. “Why is it your place to decide what she wants and doesn't want? Shouldn't she have some say in the matter?”
“She should, yes,” I said. “I just don’t know if it should progress any farther than it has.”
“Would you like it to progress?” he asked. “Would you like to have more than just physical intimacy with her?”
I thought about it for only a second before answering, “Yes, I would,” I said softly. “I'd like to continue being with her.”
“Do you have feelings for Emma?” he asked. “Genuine feelings aside from the physical nature of your relationship?”
This time, I had to stop and think. How in the hell did I feel about her? I'd kept shutting down any and all thoughts about dating her, about allowing myself to get emotionally involved with or attached to her. I'd never let myself go there because I knew it was a bad idea from the start. But as I sat in that chair across from Dr. Miller, I allowed myself to explore that possibility in my mind and in my heart really, for the first time. And the answer came to me quite simply.
“Yes, I think so,” I said. “I could see myself falling in love with her. She's an incredible and amazing woman.”
That last part was hard as hell to admit. Scary too. I wasn't ready for love, was I? I stared back at Dr. Miller and he seemed to read my mind.
“Marcus, perhaps it's time you opened yourself up to the possibility of falling in love with Emma,” he said. “If you're both happy and consenting, why not? She's already good with your kids, and she's the first woman you've spoken of in a positive way since Gina passed away. I think, maybe, it's time that you at least begin to allow for the possibility of finding your way back to love and a healthy relationship. And I think this Emma might actually be good for you.”
As I listened to him, I wanted to believe what he was saying. The one question that kept recurring in my head was stark and brutally honest – was I good for Emma?
It was a question I didn't have an answer for.
ooo000ooo
My shrink really had me thinking after I'd left my session with him. Could I fall in love with Emma? Would a relationship with her be okay? Would that just be a bad idea all around? Some women preferred to date older men, that wasn't completely out there or strange. But for some reason, dating someone who grew up next door, somebody who'd babysat for my kids felt wrong and a little bit dirty..
I picked up the kids from my mom's house, and when we pulled in the driveway, they were already asking for Emma. They were buzzing and excited about seeing her and getting her to play another board game with them.
“She has to work, you guys,” I said, helping them out of the car. “Maybe she'll stop by later. We'll just have to wait and see.”
I glanced over at her house and saw her father out front. He was standing on the porch, staring at me, arms crossed in front of him, a very stern and disapproving look on his face. Immediately, I began to wonder if he knew, or if he was still just trying to intimidate me, trying to keep me away from Emma. I waved, but he didn't wave back. The look on his face and the set of his body made me nervous, but there was nothing to be done about it at that moment. It was a bridge I'd have to cross eventually.
“Come on,” I said. “Let's get inside.”
The way Dan Taylor stared at me, with a look full of dark rage and possibly even hate, had me concerned that he might try to start something. I tried to put myself in his shoes, to see the man who'd watched your daughter grow up start sleeping with her. I tried to feel what he might be feeling and just couldn't. I imagine there would be a lot of anger there, possibly even enough to pick a fight. Dan had never seemed like the type to lose his temper easily, let alone start a brawl in the street. Still, you could never be too sure when it came to a man's daughter, so I got my kids moving, getting them to the house as quickly as possible. Better safe than sorry. As we headed toward the front door, I also found it hard to look at him, knowing what I'd done with his daughter the night before.
Ushering the kids inside, I was relieved once we were out of his sight. I didn't want any trouble, not with him, not with anyone. I just wanted to be happy. And why should it be so wrong that Emma was the one who made me happy? I struggled with her age more than anybody, even Dan, would ever know. Dr. Miller had raised some good points though and had made me see some things differently.
I felt myself slowly beginning to open up to the possibility of having something more with Emma. My biggest fear was that it would ignite a war with her family, and as tough as that would be for me, it would be a hundred times tougher on her.
ooo000ooo
The kids were in bed when Emma softly knocked on my door. She wasn't dressed up this time, but she still looked beautiful. She was wearing her usual sundress and flipflops, very little makeup, and had her hair back in a ponytail. She was casual, but she was still stunning nonetheless.
“We need to talk,” she said, stepping inside as soon as I opened the door. “My dad knows about us.”
As soon as she said those words, my heart dropped into the pit of my stomach. That explained the look of sheer hate and hostility on his face earlier. My worst fears were starting to come true and I was suddenly overwhelmed by the stress and anxiety of it all.
“What? How?” I asked.
“Okay, he doesn't actually know anything. Not the specifics, anyway,” she said, flopping down on my couch. “But he suspects it. He's pretty sure something happened between us, and he's pissed.”
I groaned and ran a hand through my hair. It was just what I'd been worried was going to happen if Emma and I slept together. But as I stared over at her, saw the look on her face, I still didn't regret it. Not one little bit. She was worried, obviously, but I also saw a light of defiance in her eyes. She held her head up and was calm. She had a strength that belied her years, a strength that said she would deal with the fallout and that nobody was going to tell her what she could and could not do with her life.
“Okay, so what are we going to do?” I asked.
“What can we do?” she said, shrugging. “He won't listen to me. I can sit there and tell him that I'm adult and can make my own choices until I'm blue in the face and it won't matter to him. I'm just tired of it. It's not like we're fucking under his roof or anything.”
Yeah, just right next door. I sat down next to her, placing my hand on her thigh instinctively, protectively. She put her hand over mine and gave it a gentle squeeze.
She looked up at me, sadness in her pretty blue eyes, “I understand if you want to stop, Marcus,” she said. “I don't want to make things difficult for you. But just know that I'm not going to let my father or anybody else dictate what I do or who I choose to spend my time with.”
“I don't want things to be difficult for you, Emma,” I said. “That's what this is all about. My hesitation, my doubt, it's about protecting you, making sure you're not at war with your parents since you have to live under their roof.”
“I appreciate that, Marcus, I do. But I don't want to stop,” she said, leaning into my hand. “I don't want to stop seeing you. I care for you and nobody is going to make me regret the time we've shared. And they certainly aren't going to keep me from seeing you any damn time I want. ”
“I’m glad to hear that,” I admitted.
“Really?” she asked, a twinkle in her eye. “You mean that?”
“I do,” I said. I kissed her on the forehead and held her close.
“So, we can keep seeing each other? Even if my dad's a dick about it?”
With a sigh, I nodded and said, “Of course. As long as you want to, that is,” I said. “But the minute this gets to be too intense or too much for you, you have to tell me, Emma. I don't want you shouldering that burden alone. If it starts to weigh on you, tell me. We'll decide what to do at that point together.”
“I do want it. You make me so happy, I love being with you. And I promise to tell you if things start getting to be too much.”
And I loved being with her too. Both in the bedroom and out.