Caleb 34 - An Ex

Carys came onto the mat. She bowed to me, and I to her.

"Not bad," she said. "A little stiff to start, but you got into it."

"Are you sure?" I said. "I don't feel that I covered very much."

"People all learn at different rates," she said. "You'll figure out who your quick learners are soon enough. What you do, then, is get them to help you with the slower learners. Keeps them interested and also gives you extra eyes on the mat.

"I suspect your girls are going to be the quickest learners," she said with a grin, "but I guess you are giving some private lessons?" Her double entendre was obvious.

I shook my head at her.

"You could always join us for some private lessons if you want," said Amanda, who had come to the edge of the mat after having changed.

Carys went scarlet. "I need to get changed," she said, and darted off to the changing room.

I noticed that Kevin was watching us from across the dojo. "I'll see you guys at home," I said.

Carys emerged from the changing room, and I took my turn.

The girls were all home by the time I got there.

"She's interested," Amanda said to me as I walked through the door.

I smiled at her. "I know," I said. "I saw it in her aura when she saw me with my gi undone. I'm not sure it's a good idea, though. I don't want to spoil my relationship with her father."

Amanda pouted. "Shame. I'll bet she's really fiery in bed."

There had apparently been another delivery for Louise while we'd been out, and once again Louise had turned it away, telling the delivery driver that there was nobody by that name at the address. Louise had turned her phone off, and not turned it on again. That was causing her some inconvenience.

"Why not just block you parents' numbers?" asked Jules.

"Because that would be too obvious," said Louise. "If my phone is off, then I can claim it is broken. I'm trying to put off the arguments. I don't want to have a showdown until I can no longer avoid it."

I left them to their discussions, showered, and took myself to bed.

Wednesday at lunchtime, my phone rang. It was from an unknown number.

"Is this Caleb Stott?" a man's voice asked.

"Speaking," I said.

"My name is Donald Brown," said the man. "I believe my daughter Louise is a housemate of yours."

I was sorely tempted to squint and pinch my brow. It was starting - and in an even stranger fashion than I'd imagined it would.

"How can I help you, Mr. Brown?" I asked.

"I've been trying to get hold of my daughter," he said, "but her phone seems to be off all the time."

"Yes," I said. "She did mention something about it being broken."

"Can you possibly ask her to call me?" he asked. "Urgently?"

"I'm not sure when I'll see her again," I temporized, "but I'll pass that on when I do."

"Thank you," he said. "Can I also check your address, please? A number of things sent to her have been returned as 'Not at this address.'" He read off our address. I had no choice but to confirm it for him.

"Strange," he said. "That was the address on the delivery. Why would they be returned as not known?"

"Perhaps you should take that up with the company," I said. "I certainly haven't returned any packages."

"Thanks," he said. "I will. Don't forget to tell Louise to call."

"I won't," I said. "Bye now." I hung up.

"Damn!" Louise said when I told her about the call that night. "Sorry, Caleb. I gave them your number as an emergency contact. He isn't going to give up. I guess I'd best call my parents."

"Remember your parachute," I prompted her.

She looked at me gratefully, then pulled me into a hug. "Thanks, Caleb."

She went to their room to make the call while I made dinner. She came back a few minutes later looking angry.

"They are demanding that I call Keenan," she said.

"And what did you say?" I asked.

"No!" she replied. "Even if I wasn't with Josh, there is no way I would allow them to 'arrange' my love life. Keenen and I were together for about eight months before I came to PSU. I broke it off because there was nothing there for me. What was really sad was that I really liked his grandmother. She was a lovely lady, and we got along like a house on fire. But he was boring. All he wanted to do was go out and show me off like some kind of Barbie doll. We never had a conversation. When we were alone all he wanted to do was fuck - and despite his nine inches, he was shit at that. I don't think he gave me a single orgasm in all the time we were together."

I was shocked at that. My experience with Louise had been quite different, to put it mildly. It had been so different that I'd assumed she was simply hyper orgasmic by nature.

"So, what do you think..." I began but was interrupted by the doorbell.

"I'll get it," I said, getting up and going to the door.

"Delivery for Miss Louise Brown." It was the same flower shop delivery guy that had tried to deliver the first time - the one Louise had told she didn't live here. I noticed he had his phone in his hand, and there was a call active.

"Take them away," I said. "They are not wanted."

"What?" he asked.

"I am refusing delivery," I said.

"You can't do that," said the driver. "They are not for you."

"This is my house," I said. "I can absolutely refuse any delivery. Now take them away."

He looked at me, then at his phone. He half proffered his phone as if he wanted me to speak to whoever was on the other end. I shook my head. He sighed and walked away, talking into the phone.

I heard Louise's phone ring as I closed the door. I'd expected it to be her parents, but it wasn't; it was Keenan. As soon as he identified himself, she hung up the phone and blocked the number.

"I do not want to speak to him," she said.

We finished our dinner uninterrupted. It was after dinner that Louise's phone rang again. It was her father.

"They're coming up to see me on Saturday," she said glumly. "It's a three-hour drive, so they are going to stay over. If they can't stay here, they said they'll find a hotel."

"That's up to you," I said. "There is always the spare room - although we only have one spare, so it will have to be just them."

"They better not bring him!" she said vehemently.

"Why is he suddenly interested in you again after all this time?" I asked. "You haven't seen him for nearly two years and then suddenly he's all over you. It doesn't make sense. What's he after?"

"I have no idea," she said. "He can't just have suddenly realised an unrequited love. Mom and Dad aren't exactly poor, but his family is much richer, and he's not the type to alienate his parents and get cut off. I honestly don't understand it.

"Mom really liked him. He was always so smooth around her. Sometimes he made me want to puke. She was really mad at me for breaking up with him, and now that he's back she wants us to get back together."

"So, what do you think this weekend is going to be all about?" I asked.

"Persuasion, coercion, and bullying," she said.

"Well," I said, "decide what you want, and we will support you. If they get to be too much, then I'll ask them to leave."

The next night the delivery guy didn't even bother to bring the flowers with him when he knocked on the door. I answered and he looked at me. I just shook my head and he sighed.

"Hey," I said as he was about to turn and walk back to his truck. He stopped.

I gave him a twenty. "I'm sorry you're in the middle of this," I said. "If I were you, I wouldn't accept any more orders for Louise at this address. There is no way that they will be accepted. They're from an ex who's harassing her but, since he lives far away and he's not violent, it's going to be hell for her to get a restraining order."

He half smiled. "Thanks," he said. "I'm just the delivery guy. I don't take the orders, but I'll tell the boss what you said." He went back to his truck, looking a little happier.

I was just closing the door when Alan from next door walked over. He was holding a cable box in his hands.

"Hey Caleb," he said as he approached.

"Hi Alan," I said. "How's Anna?"

"She's fine," he said. "We really enjoyed lunch on Sunday. Thanks for the invite."

"Well, we alternative lifestyle neighbours need to stick together," I said.

His gaze sharpened. "'Alternative lifestyle?'" His knuckles had gone white where he clutched his cable box.

"Yeah," I said, "us non-HOA members. We're the only ones on the street."

I saw the tension leave his shoulders and he laughed nervously. "Yeah, right. Here's our cable box. Jules said she would take a look at it for us?"

"No worries," I said, taking it from him. "I'll give it to her. She'll bring it over once she's taken a look. If she can fix it, she will."

"Sometimes it lasts all night," he said. "Other times it craps out after about half an hour. It's really frustrating."

"Okay," I said. "I'll tell her."

He left me on the porch, and I went back into the house. I handed the box to Jules as she came out of the living room. She looked excited again.

"I can finally try out my microscope," she said. "I hope it's something good and not just a faulty fan."

I smiled at her. "I hope so too," I said as she hustled off to her workshop. She was still in there when I went to bed.

There was an email from the dean in my inbox the next morning when I looked. He asked if I might drop in and see him before classes.

"Good morning Mr. Stott," he said when I entered his office the next morning.

"Morning, Dean," I replied. "How's Rachel?"

"She's doing well," he said. "She asked me to give you her regards."

"I'm glad to hear it," I said. "How can I help?"

"I'm sorry to say," he said, "that there have been some complaints from campus security about people coming on campus to 'consult' with you. I'm sorry, but we can't have just anyone wandering on and off campus like this. I thought, when I allowed you the use of that room, that it would be just students."

I nodded. Mary had raised such a concern, but we had not found another venue from which to work outside of the PSU yet.

"I'm not going to ask you to stop immediately," he said. "I expect you must have clients mid-treatment, but I am going to ask that you don't take on any new clients from outside the university in that room. I'm sorry Mr. Stott, but the security of the facility has to take priority."

"I totally understand," I said, "and thank you for being so accommodating. I currently have four clients, who will be finished with their treatment in two weeks. After that, I will only see students here on campus."

"That's perfect," he said. "I'll let campus security know. One other thing. Some of your professors are saying that your attendance in their classes is, in some cases, almost non-existent. They say you are keeping up with the work, and handing everything in on time, but you are just not attending classes. Is there a problem that we might help you with?"

"Not unless you can give me more than twenty-four hours in a day," I said with a grimace. "I mean no disrespect to the professors. I just have too much going on in my life, and something has to give. I attend all the ethics lectures, barring emergency, but the rest of the lectures are mostly information dumps. I can get that just as easily from the textbooks. I promise that, come exam time, my performance will not suffer."

He smiled wryly. "To be honest, the professors are not complaining; it was just noted in conversation. You were always someone with one hundred percent attendance, and now you have almost zero in some subjects. Keep up your course work, and make sure you study for the exams. As you say, ethics is your only course with an attendance criterion, so as long as you keep those hours up, we can assume that, for your other subjects, you are 'distance learning,' as the online universities call it."

I left his office, annoyed by the new inconvenience, though not surprised. I wondered what I was going to do about it. I let Mary know not to book anyone from off campus, and gave her the memory of my conversation with the dean.

She replayed to me the memory of her warning me of that possibility. Telepathic 'I told you so's were no less irritating than verbal ones, and I informed her as much. I felt her amusement.

I was grumpy by the time I got to my ethics class, which made me argue counter to everyone in the room just for the hell of it. The professor, almost at the end of the lesson, challenged me on it.

"Mr. Stott," he said. "Your view has been counter to just about everyone in the room this morning. Care to explain?"

I decided to go for brutal honesty. "I was angry when I entered the class," I said. "I guess I'm acting out. I apologise."

"Oh no," he said, beaming. "Please don't apologise. You have illustrated a point that I would have made later on in the course regardless." He turned to the class. "Ethics are fluid, even in an individual. Your ethical arguments can change from moment to moment, depending on several factors. Your mood is a factor in that, as Mr. Stott has demonstrated so admirably this morning. Whether someone got stopped for speeding on their way to work, burned their toast, or," he paused and almost glanced in my direction, "didn't get laid last night."

The class laughed and I laughed along. Despite his refusing my apology, it was a not-so-subtle hint to leave my mood at the door in future.

"Hopefully all of you will take the lesson," he concluded. "Setting aside how useful all of these ethical arguments are in the real world, what does it tell us about how good they are - yes, even on their own merits - if our emotions can spur us to abandon them, take up with new ones, and defend our newfound positions even more vigorously? The ancient Persians debated every issue twice - once while sober, once while drunk - and only dubbed wisdom that which won out in both. Food for thought."

"So," said Dana Reed as we filed out of the class together. "Your girlfriends not putting out?"

I smiled at her. I didn't share any other classes with Dana. She was the girl who had argued so well in the class where we had discussed my fight with Jasper. She stood about five-nine, skinny, with no appreciable breasts. She had a round, elfin face, a pointed chin, and an incredibly cheeky grin. Her dark hair was shoulder length. All in all, she was very cute.

"My fiancées," I corrected her.

"Oooh okay," she said, flashing a set of perfect white teeth at me. "Fiancées, then."

"It had nothing to do with that," I said.

"So, it wasn't sexual frustration that made you argue black was white then?" she pushed.

I laughed. "No," I said. "It wasn't." Despite her flirtatious tone, I saw a nervousness - almost a fear - in her aura as we spoke. She was hiding something. What that something was was none of my business. I didn't pry, and I was relieved she wasn't broadcasting it.

"Shame," she said, flashing me a smile as she walked off. She had a nice, pert butt, but my attraction to her was more intellectual than physical. I loved the way she spoke in ethics, and nearly always agreed with her views - including the time when she'd argued against me.

"Invite her over," said Amanda in my ear. She had snuck up on me while I'd been preoccupied watching Dana's ass grow smaller in the distance.

"Maybe," I said. "Sometime. She seems interested, and she's certainly interesting, but I have too much on my plate right now."

"There's always time for sharing," said Amanda. "If there isn't, you should make time."

"Speaking of making time," I said, "I was thinking of going to the range tonight. I looked online and Thursday nights are... I won't say 'quiet,' but less busy. There are a couple of lanes free."

"Sure," she said. "Make sure you book the time with your secretary." She grinned, kissed my cheek, and flounced off. I watched her ass as she walked away.

"If she wasn't already in a relationship with you," said my ethics professor from behind me, "you could get written up for sexual harassment for doing that."

I looked at him, and he was smiling, clearly joking. "Come on, professor," I said indicating the retreating butt, "who among us wouldn't stare at that?"

"I am taking the fifth on that," he said, "since I am not in a relationship with that young lady."

I grinned. "I promise," I said, "she would be flattered."

He just chuckled and walked away.

That night at the range, Jules and I shared a lane. We had been lucky, and Clive had had some time, so he had taken Amanda and Mary onto the other lane and was giving them a lesson with the smaller weapon.

As we were finishing up, Hoss came over to watch us.

"You really need your own weapon," he said. "Let you get used to it. Shooting with a different gun every time isn't bad, but it isn't great. Besides, gun ownership isn't all about shooting. You need to learn to maintain it too."

"I'm too young to buy one," I said.

"Yes and no," he said. "I have three brand-new Glock 23 Gen 5's, thirteen shot, that I bought for the range. You could buy one of those from me. Keep it in your locker and it will stay in the range and registered to us until you are twenty-one. Once you get your CCP, you can take it home. It will also mean you'll save on rental fees."

It made sense.

"Can I take a look at them?" I asked, "maybe try them out?"

He placed a gun box on the bench. "I thought you would want to do that. All three in the box along with a few magazines. Here is a box of ammunition. Let me know what you think. Oh, and you're cleaning them all when you're done, and you owe me for the ammo." He grinned at me.

I pulled all three weapons out of the box and placed them on the table. I loaded the first, shot off one magazine, and let Jules shoot the other. We did that with all three guns, and between us decided that the second one we had tried would be the one for us. I took the box containing the three guns back out to him at the desk.

"That one," I said, indicating the weapon of choice.

"Four fifty," he said, "and I'll throw in a cleaning kit."

I used the club's cleaning kit to clean all three guns, plus the one we had used for practice. I paid Hoss, and we placed our new gun into the inner lockbox of our locker. Hoss filled out a purchase form with the serial number, which I signed, and filed it.

"You can't take the weapon out of the range until you have a permit," he said. "We'll sign it over to you once you do. One last thing: I have a friend who is struggling with losing weight. He tried to get on your waiting list, but it seems so long. He got an email today to say he's been put on hold."

I grimaced.

"I was seeing people on the university campus," I explained. "The dean told me I can't do that anymore. Since I don't have a place to see people, I'm going to have to defer them until I do."

He looked thoughtful for a minute.

"Come with me," he said, walking across the reception area, and then to a door I had never seen opened. He opened it. Inside was a small room, almost identical to the room I had at PSU, or at least identical to the room as it was before I emptied the junk.

I almost groaned to myself, as I dreaded his next statement. Fortunately, what I thought he was going to say wasn't what he said.

"If we empty this out, and maybe put a few chairs in, would this work for you?" he asked.

"I'd need three chairs," I said, "and a small desk or a table."

He nodded. "How much you charge for a session?" he asked.

"One hundred," said Mary from behind me.

"Thirty a session," he said. "You only pay when you use it. I was going to clean it out in any case, and we can use it for other stuff when you're not using it. You'll need to book it with me, though."

I looked at Mary.

"Is that a flat thirty dollars," she asked, "or a percentage of the fee?"

"Flat thirty dollars," said Hoss. "If you want to up your fees to cover it, that's your business."