Ted’s Monday after the Thanksgiving weekend was not a happy one. It was one of those days when everything went wrong. The water had been turned off in his building for an emergency repair, so he couldn’t take a shower when he got up. His roommates had finished the coffee and not replaced it. He missed two buses and then a subway, when he tried that to get to school, and was late to class. And when the assistant professor handed back their papers on a quiz from the week before, he had gotten several answers wrong and got a miserable grade. The guy sitting next to him had BO, and by the time class was over, he was in a rotten mood, from the lousy grade on the quiz he had actually studied for, and the unpleasant seat.
He was leaving the class with a glum expression, when the teacher signaled him. The professor who normally taught the class was on sabbatical, writing a book, and she had taken over his duties for a year. Her name was Pattie Sears. She was an attractive woman with long curly hair who wore jeans and Birkenstocks with socks and T-shirts that showed off her breasts. He had noticed it when he was bored in class. She looked to be in her early thirties and was sexy in a wholesome, natural way.
“I’m sorry about the grade on the quiz,” she said sympathetically. “Contracts are a bitch.” Ted smiled at what she said. “I flunked them the first time I took the class myself. Some of the rules just don’t make sense.”
“I guess not. I studied for it. I have to read those chapters again,” Ted said diligently. Throughout his entire school and college career, he had always had good grades. And other than the recent quiz, he was doing well. He was in his second year at NYU Law School.
“Would you like some help? Sometimes if you prepare it with someone to give you some guidance, it helps. I don’t mind.” She had warned them of a quiz the following week, and he didn’t want another bad grade.
“I don’t want to bother you,” he said, looking embarrassed. She had put on a heavy jacket and a woolen hat. There was something homespun and friendly about her. He could easily imagine her chopping wood and building a fire in Vermont, or making soup from scratch. “I’ll read the chapters, and if I feel like I’m not getting it, I’ll ask you after the next class.”
“Why don’t you come by tonight?” she said, and her eyes were warm and kind. Ted hesitated, and now he felt even ruder turning her down. She was offering her help, and he didn’t want her to feel that he didn’t appreciate the gesture, but it seemed strange to go to her house. They had never spoken to each other outside of class. “My kids are asleep by eight. Why don’t you come by at nine? We can knock out the prep for the quiz in an hour. I’ll give you some pointers about contracts, and show you some things that are key.”
“All right,” he said hesitantly, not wanting to intrude on her private life. She had already jotted down her address on a piece of paper and handed it to him. He saw that she lived in the East Village, not far from the university, in a run-down neighborhood. “You’re sure you don’t mind?” he asked, feeling like a kid. She seemed so motherly to him, although she probably wasn’t that much older than he was. “I won’t stay long.”
“Don’t be silly. Once the kids are in bed, I’ll have plenty of time.” He nodded and thanked her again, and his day went better after that. He was relieved that she had offered to help him, he knew he needed it in this one class. He had another class afterward, then went to the library to do some studying, and stopped to eat dinner in a diner, before his appointment at the assistant professor’s house at nine. He arrived at her building five minutes early, and it was freezing outside so he went in. The building smelled of urine and cabbage and cats, and he rang the bell and took the stairs to the third floor two at a time. Seeing the building made him realize how little money she must make at her job, and he wondered if he should be offering her some kind of tutoring fee for helping him, but he didn’t want to insult her. He rang the doorbell, and he could hear children laughing inside. Apparently they hadn’t gone to bed on time, and Pattie looked flustered when she opened the door to him. She was wearing a pink V-neck sweater, jeans, and bare feet, and her long curly blond hair made her look younger than she was. And the little girl standing just behind her looked like a miniature of her, with ringlets and big blue eyes.
“This is Jessica,” Pattie said formally as she smiled at him. “And she doesn’t want to go to bed. She had cupcakes after dinner, and she’s on a sugar high.” She was seven and the cutest kid Ted had ever seen, and as he talked to her for a few minutes, her brother Justin whizzed past them, “faster than the speed of sound,” he said as he flew by. He had on a Superman cape over his pajamas, and Jessica was wearing a pink flannel nightgown that looked well worn.
“It’s my favorite,” the little girl explained, and then followed her mother and Ted into the living room, where Justin flew over the couch and landed on the floor with a loud thud.
“Okay, you two, that’s it. Ted and I have to do some studying, and I don’t care how many cupcakes you had, it’s time to go to bed.” It was already an hour past their bedtime, and the living room looked a shambles, with toys all over the place. The apartment was small. There were two bedrooms, the living room, and a kitchen, and Pattie said it was rent-controlled. The university housing office had found it for her, and she was grateful to have it. She said the babysitter she used lived downstairs, and since the divorce it was a perfect arrangement. She promised to return in five minutes after she put the kids to bed. And in the end it took half an hour, while Ted read his contracts book and made a list of questions for her.
By the time he finished his list, Pattie had reappeared. Her hair fell around her face in soft curls, and her cheeks were flushed from playing with the kids. “Sometimes they just don’t want to go to bed,” she explained. “They were with their father for Thanksgiving. We have joint custody, and there are no rules at his house, so when they get back here, it’s always a little nuts. By the time they calm down and shape up and get sane again, they go back to him. Divorce is tough on kids,” she said, as she sat down next to Ted and looked at his list. The questions were intelligent and made sense, and she had a clear answer for all of them. She showed him examples and flipped through the book to point out what he needed to study and learn by rote. She clarified some important points for him and an hour later Ted sat back on the couch, looking immensely relieved.
“You make it seem so simple,” he said with admiration. She was a good teacher, and he liked her style. She was an easy, warm person, a bright woman, and obviously a good mother from what he had seen. She was like Mother Earth as she tucked her feet under her, and smiled at him. She had a lush body and seemed limber and graceful and explained to him that she had done yoga for years. She taught it privately sometimes and said that she did everything she had to to make ends meet. Her ex-husband was an artist and couldn’t even pay child support. She was carrying it all herself. Ted admired her for her openness and courage. She didn’t say anything nasty about her ex-husband, and she seemed to accept her life as it was, and it had been kind of her to help him. He felt like he should pay her something for the tutoring help but didn’t know what, and he didn’t want to insult her.
He was about to get up to leave, so as not to impose on her further, when she offered him a glass of wine. He hesitated for a moment, not sure what he should do. She somehow made him feel boyish and inept, and next to her he felt awkward. And so as not to offend her, he accepted the glass of wine. She poured him some inexpensive Spanish red wine and poured another glass for herself.
“It’s pretty good for cheap wine,” she commented, and he nodded. It was good, and it was pleasant sitting there with her. He stretched his long legs out under the coffee table, and she brushed against him as she set down her glass on the table and turned to smile at him. “You’re young to be in law school,” she said warmly. “Did you come right in after college?” They both knew that that was rare—most law students worked for a few years before entering law school.
“I’m not that young. I’m twenty-four. I worked as a paralegal for two years. I had a great time and it convinced me I wanted to go to law school.”
“I clerked for a family law judge during law school. It convinced me I wanted to teach. I’d never want that kind of responsibility, screwing up people’s lives and making decisions for them.”
“I’d like to be a federal prosecutor when I grow up,” Ted said, half teasing, and half serious.
“That’s pretty tough stuff. I’m thirty-six, and all I want to be when I grow up is happy and able to stop worrying about how to pay my rent. That would be great,” she said, and took another sip of wine. Their eyes met over the glass, and there was something smoldering in hers. He didn’t know what it was, but it was mesmerizing, as though she had the secret of the ages in her possession and wanted to share it with him. As he looked at her, the difference in their ages disappeared like mist.
They didn’t say anything for a long moment and Ted was about to thank her again for her help with the contracts class, when without a word she leaned toward him, put an arm around his neck, and pulled him close to her. She kissed him then, and as she did, he felt as though his lips and soul and loins were on fire. He had never felt anything like it before. He started to pull away and then found he couldn’t stop. It was as though he had been drugged. She was the drug, and he wanted more. When they finally drifted away from each other, all he wanted was to go back, and he slipped a hand under her sweater and touched her breasts. She didn’t seem to mind at all, and her hand was resting lightly on his crotch, which bulged at her touch. He felt as though he had suddenly gone insane. Pattie was smiling at him, as she pressed closer to him and kissed him again.
“What about your kids?” he asked as he reached hungrily into her jeans and devoured her mouth. Worrying about her children was the last sane thought he had.
“They’re asleep,” she whispered, and he was aware of silence from the second bedroom. They had finally worn themselves out. But Pattie and Ted had come alive, as though they were being held together by an electric current that was drawing them to each other. He couldn’t keep his hands off her, and she unzipped his pants and was cradling him in her hands. “Let’s go to bed,” she whispered, and without hesitating, he followed her to her bedroom. It was the only place he wanted to be, as Pattie locked the door and literally tore his clothes off him, as he peeled off hers. All he wanted now was to be inside her, and he couldn’t get there fast enough as they fell onto her bed, and she teased and taunted him unbearably until she let him get there, and then suddenly she turned around and swallowed him whole, letting him pleasure her, and then she turned again and took him into her, and Ted felt as though he had been sucked into another world and turned inside out. He had never known sex like that in his life. He was dizzy and light-headed when they finished and lay panting on the floor, where they had wound up.
“Oh my God … ,” Ted said. He had been so excited that he almost felt sick, and all he wanted was more. She was a drug. “What happened?” He sounded as dazed as he felt as he squinted at her in the dark, and they climbed back into her bed. His long athletic body was glistening with sweat, and so was hers. Hers was full and lush, and every inch of her was like a heady, warm embrace, like some kind of magic elixir that he could no longer live without.
“I think they call that love,” Pattie said softly in the dark. They had tried not to make too much noise so as not to wake her kids, and they were whispering now. He wasn’t sure he agreed with her word choice. He didn’t know her well enough to love her, he didn’t know her at all, but it was the wildest sex he could ever have imagined and an experience he knew he would never forget.
“I’m not sure that’s love,” he said honestly, “but it’s the best sex I’ve ever had.” He ran a hand down her stomach and between her legs and touched the place that had just welcomed him so warmly and given him so much joy.
“Is that all it was for you? Just sex?” She sounded disappointed, and he laughed softly in the dark.
“It was some kind of world-class explosion,” he tried to describe it. “The Hiroshima of lovemaking, or Mount Vesuvius or something.” It had never happened to him like that before. He could only imagine that it must be how people felt on psychedelic drugs, which he had never tried.
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