The Education of Sebastian & the Education of Caroline(292)
I trudged down the stairs and back out to the garage. Then she looked up and smiled, and I remembered why I was here.
“So, how’s school? Not too long until you graduate now.”
“Nope, I can’t wait.”
“Do you have plans for the summer?”
“Yeah. Surf. A lot.”
She laughed. “Of course! Your endless summer. Anything else, or is that a 24-hour a day surf?”
“Yeah, something like that! Nah, I’ll have to get a job. The less time I’m at home, the better.”
She frowned, then nodded. “Well, that sounds like a plan. Maybe you could get a job in a surf shop?”
God, she was great. She totally understood me.
We chatted easily for hours, and I couldn’t remember why I’d been nervous to come over here.
“Oh crap! It’s nearly lunchtime,” she said, staring at her watch.
She looked kind of annoyed, and I wondered if she was late for something.
“Did you have to be somewhere?”
“No, no, I’m worried about you. Your parents … your studying.”
Fuck that.
“No sweat.”
“Look, I’m not going to be responsible for you flunking out. I’ll fix you some lunch, and then you must go study. Deal?”
Food and Caroline. I was one happy fucker.
“Okay, deal!”
She showed me where I could wash up and when I walked into the kitchen, she was reaching up to get some glasses. I realized how darn little she was. Just so fucking perfect. Just the right size for me to … And, I was hard again. Little fucker wouldn’t stay down.
I reached up to get the glasses for her.
“I’ll get those for you.”
I don’t think she’d realized I was there, because she jumped when she heard my voice. But having her so near to me, it was like her whole body was a magnet pulling me in. I stood there like a scary fucking moron with those damn glasses in my hand, just staring at her.
She took them from me without comment. But two seconds later she was leaning into the fridge, her fucking perfect ass waving at me. It took every ounce of control not to leap on her. And then she started talking about lemon pressé. She could have offered me bong water and I’d have fucking drunk it without noticing.
“Yeah, I’ll try that, please, Mrs. Wilson.”
“Sebastian, you can call me Caroline. Mrs. Wilson is so formal … and it makes me feel ancient.”
Well, shit!
“Okay, Caroline.”
I couldn’t help grinning like a loon. Caroline. I loved the way it sounded when I said her voice out loud.
“Now, I can make you a chicken salad sub or … tricolored salad.”
Oh, yeah. Time to do suave.
“Insalata tricolore, per favore.”
She looked so fucking surprised, I nearly laughed out loud.
“I’ve been learning Italian. A correspondence course. My high school only offered Spanish.” For you. Caroline.
“Really? Molto bene!”
“And I’ve been listening to opera, too. I like Verdi.”
Liar: it sounded like cats fighting.
“The fallen woman.”
What the fuck? What did she mean? What was she trying to say to me?
“Excuse me?”
“La Traviata: I presume that’s what you mean when you say you like Verdi. Or maybe Aïda? Rigoletto?”
Oh.
“Yeah, all of those.”
“I thought teenage boys only listened to heavy rock music.”
Shit. She knew I was being a pretentious fucker.
“I’m glad you like opera,” she said, softly. “My father loved it.”
Yeah, I remembered him. I was so fucking jealous that she had a great dad like that.
“I remember you and him singing opera in your kitchen.”
“Really, you remember that?”
“I remember everything.” Everything about you, Caroline.
“That was a great visit when Papa came to stay.”
“Yeah, he was fun. We blew up a lot of things.”
“Yes, David wasn’t very happy about it.”
That fucker. Change of fucking subject coming right up.
“How is your dad?”
“He passed away: two years ago.”
Oh shit.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
Fucking moron! You’ve made her cry! Shit, I’m sorry, Caroline!
I could have kicked myself, because then the shutters came down, and she became all formal again.
“Thank you for your help this morning, Sebastian. It was really very thoughtful of you, but I’m going to have to insist that you go and do some studying as soon as we’ve eaten. I don’t want to get you into any more trouble.”
Yeah, I deserved that. She wanted me the fuck out, and I couldn’t blame her. Fucking idiot.
She made me a really amazing meal. I hadn’t had anything to eat since the barbecue, and I was so hungry, my stomach was yelling at me to get the food in as quickly as possible without stopping. Everything she made was wonderful. I could have kissed her. And I really fucking wanted to.