A Hard Lesson in Responsibility

Steve Albertson is sitting at his computer idly surfing news sites now that his work for the day is done. He's killing time waiting for the little hand to be on the five and the big hand to finish creeping up to the twelve. The big boss laid down the law last week about staff taking off before 5:00, leaving phones unattended.

"Shit. Twenty years until retirement," he mumbles to himself.

His personal cellphone beeps and buzzes. The text alert tone is generic and not one he's customized for his regular contacts. These days it's mostly spam, but out of curiosity he retrieves the phone from his back pocket anyway. Turns out it's an acquaintance he keeps in his call list, Samantha Banner. Given their separate lives and age difference they really don't chat a lot, although she leans on his shoulder from time to time for "fatherly" advice she can't discuss with her parents or sister.

Steve takes a deep breath and opens the message app.

"Steve? Chris is gone."

Oh, this doesn't sound good. Samantha and Chris have been dating off and on for almost eight years. She quit college her junior year to return home to be with him, but the pattern didn't change. Steve has told her several times that they needed to "Shit or get off the pot!"

He texts back, "Oh no! You need to talk?"

"Yeah. Meet you at Tequila by the tracks?"

"Okay. I'm off in 10. CU there."

Steve and Samantha know each other from his side gig as a music teacher; he gave her bassoon lessons during her last two years in high school. Bassoon was an odd instrument if she wanted to go anywhere with it, but they both knew that any ability on double reeds was a free ticket to a respectable scholarship at a good college.

Now Samantha was and is an adorable cutie, with a great figure, slender but very nicely proportioned. He saw her once at the city swimming pool in her lifeguard uniform at the time. She was finished with high school and had taken the summer job to earn pocket money for college. The uniform, a navy blue tank swimsuit, flattered her so well that he had to slap his face to remind himself there was a fifteen-year difference between them, never mind the ethics of the teacher/student situation. Let's not mention that he had earned the trust of her parents, as well, and violating that trust had consequences since they were visible influencers in the community.

Steve does not know how Samantha connected with Chris, but she did, and, in Steve's opinion, it was to her detriment. He had drug issues and was in recovery, but that isn't the problem relative to Samantha, his temper and threats of physical abuse were.

Anyway, Samantha has just stepped through the vestibule at the restaurant and is searching for Steve. She finds him in the back, back corner, his usual spot when conversation needs to be away from prying ears.

"I didn't order you anything to drink, Sam, since you were changing it up last time we talked like this. Go ahead," as Steve makes eye contact with their server, who approaches the table.

"Sweet tea," she requests.

"Going for the big guns!" Steve jokes. "Okay, what happened?"

"I heard that tone, Steve. 'What happened this time.' Welllll... it's kinda my fault."

Steve sighs, "Okay. Yeah. You stepped out on 'im again, didn't you?"

"Uh huh."

"We've talked about that before. You're a big girl, you're not married, and that's your prerogative."

"It's different this time."

"Why? Who is it?"

"Jason Hester. And Jody Copple."

"Don't know 'em. What's so different?"

"I'm pregnant."

"Holy fucking shit, Sam! Did you intend that?"

"Sorta kinda."

"You know my next question."

"Yeah. I don't know. Could be any of the four."

"Four? I count three."

"Jerry."

"Jerry who, Sam!"

"Uh... uh..."

"NO!"

"Yeah," as she squeezes herself into the corner, more or less trying to hide.

"Okay, that changes everything. Are you planning to keep it?"

"I don't know, Steve. That's why I needed to talk to you."

"You know what my kneejerk response is."

"Yes. Abortion."

"No kidding. That there is a one in four chance it is your father, Sam, that's really, really bad."

"Why?"

"It will be discovered if you choose to go to term with it. Chris and probably the others will insist on paternity testing. Either way, either to be excluded or to assert their parental rights. Think about it!"

"I have. I..."

"No you haven't, Samantha! When... not if... it comes out that your father fathered this child, it's all over, for everybody! I'm not kidding!"

"But Steve..."

"No. Just no. You can't do this to the people you love and who love you."

Steve has to catch his breath, but he's glaring at Samantha the entire time, and she's shrinking back even more into the corner. She fucked-up big this go-round.

He softens his tone, "Does your mother suspect anything?"

"No. She was at some school board conference in Chicago."

"Your sister?"

"Claire is away at college now."

"How did you let this happen?"

"It just did. One morning I went up to their bedroom to ask him if he wanted me to fix coffee, and he had just gotten out of bed, standing there with this amazing morning wood. I was still in my nightgown when we surprised each other, and we made eye contact and smiled. Next thing you know, I was naked, too, and he was between my legs. Steve?"

"Sam?"

"It felt good. Really good. Question for you. Why are older men so much better at sex?"

"Experience. Less urgency. More likely to savor their partner. I remember when I was your age. Some of the guys were all about sticking it in a wet hole, getting off, and moving on. I... we... came too fast."

"Yeah. All the boys are like that. Dad was different. How about..."

"Me? No, Sam. Not me."

"Don't you find me attractive?"

"I do, for sure. Ever since I saw you in your lifeguard uniform. Beautiful."

"But..."

"No 'buts'. I am a mentor, friend and confidant. Strike that thought from your mind."

"But you told me that you and Cyan have an open relationship."

"We do. But it would hurt her. You are too close to home, in several respects. Anyway, most important is you need to get your mind right about whether you're going to go through with this child. To do so destroys multiple lives."

"What if I do? Will you still be my friend?"

"To be totally frank? It will be a challenge. My true feeling is your going through with it would be irresponsible and selfish. You've got some serious soul searching to do, evidently. Now what about Chris?"

"I still love him."

"But you continue to pursue other men. Why?"

"'Cause I like it, Steve."

"Selfish."

"Steven!"

"Well? You tell me."

She leans across the table to whisper.

"(Steve? Since near the end of my senior year in high school, right after I turned eighteen, I discovered that I loved to screw. Remember those last two lessons? When Mom had taken Claire to band practice?)"

"(Shit, Sam. Yeah. We were sitting on the piano bench and you were pressing into me, complaining about adjusting your seat strap, and messing with your bocal. It made me uncomfortable. You were a child to me. Gorgeous, but still a child.)"

"(I wanted to fuck you so bad.)"

"(Still not going to happen, Sam. Now about Chris.)"

"Yeah."

"You going to cut him loose this time for good? This back and forth is hardly fair to him. He obviously comes to his senses, leaves, and I know you, you beg him to come back. It plays havoc with his recovery, Sam. You know that."

"I do. But the bed feels so empty."

"Time to fish or cut bait, Samantha. Can't have it both ways. Gawd. You're... what?... twenty-nine now? Look for another guy. You have no problem attracting them, obviously."

"Yeah, but the smart ones have left town. Salem is a pit."

"Now you did that to yourself by going after Chris yet again! Had you finished school..."

"Yeah. I hear it all the time at home."

"No kidding. We never talked about girlfriends. You have any you hang with?"

"Not really. Most of them have left town, too."

"You remember Hannah Sands? She was in your class."

"Yeah, why? Wasn't in her clique. It was all the rich girls. We were 'band nerds' to them."

"She's back in town and has started a business. I might reintroduce you two. She's smart, just like you. And she goes through men like water, just like you. Between the two of you, you oughta be able to score husband material. Or at least somebody less bad to live with. Think about it."

"Okay. What do I do about this?" as she points to her stomach.

"That is your decision, kiddo. If you decide to go with my recommendation, I will absolutely be there for you to hold your hand and give you lots of hugs. Infinite supply of those. And, of course, nobody else needs to know, okay?"

"Thank you, Steven."

"You're welcome, Sam."

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