Teacher's Crossroad

He put another log into the heater then rejoined Christy under the quilt. He felt... lighter. More at peace. He was ready to talk.

And Christy listened.

Part 2

Chapter 5

Tyson Kane felt like a new man.

Actually, that felt like an exaggeration. He felt like a man with a new knee that was finally beginning to work without the constant ache. Without the reminder of his knee replacement operation, he had the impression of being a new man.

It also didn't hurt this illusion that he had a gorgeous young thing as his companion and bed warmer a few times a week.

Christy Taylor had a full schedule with her courses and her new part-time job. When she had free time, she'd come to visit him at his cottage on the lake. She'd spent a good deal of time with him since that day the previous year when she'd surprised him in his backyard. In that one day, she'd gone from stranger to student, to lover, and finally confidante.

For someone so young, she'd proven to be a force of nature. She made it possible for him to disclose what he'd been keeping to himself. The fact that he occasionally saw his dead wife at night.

Since that initial confession, he'd had fewer visits from Imani... but they hadn't stopped.

Christy put his mind at ease about talking to her about it when she said she believed it might mean he had some unresolved issues regarding his wife. Their parting had been so sudden, and they'd been mid-argument. This was a rational evaluation he could accept. If she'd mentioned a séance or anything occult, he would have sent her packing.

Tyson snorted at himself. Sure, he'd kick-to-the-curb a beautiful, sexy woman who rocked his world in bed a few times a week. As if an old guy like him had so many opportunities like this. She'd taught him some new tricks and positions, but for some reason, her favorite was being pounded on the bathroom counter.

He felt himself stiffening in his shorts, so he mentally wrestled his mind back to more innocent thoughts.

He turned in his driveway from walking the lakefront road, made his way directly to his backyard, and stopped at the lake's edge.

Truthfully, he'd come to crave Christy's company. He recognized that he'd become a recluse during the five years after the accident. While a fifty-nine-year-old man had little in common socially with a twenty-two-year-old woman, they found comfort in sharing their perspectives on current events, though their viewpoints were often significantly different. He was learning to actually listen to what she was saying, not what he thought she was saying, and she seemed to be learning the same for him.

They'd also discuss their daily activities. Or rather, she talked about hers as his remained rigidly the same, day-to-day.

The previous year, Christy had begun working on improving his living conditions, with small changes he could accept.

Over about a month, he discovered that she'd been inserting photos she'd taken of them into some of the frames scattered around his home. The original pictures showed him and Imani, or just Imani. Christy didn't replace all of them. Some of his favorite shots of Imani were still there, but not necessarily in the same places. There were also some with just Christy's smiling face. These were put in more prominent positions.

She also managed to get him to agree to a major change: knee surgery. She got him to the hospital, heavily tranquilized, and a few days later, they shipped him home, equally tranquilized.

Christy conspired with his neighbor, Barbara Willowby, to frequently check in on him during the initial weeks after the surgery.

Later, Tyson found photos of Barbara in some of the frames. He wasn't sure who swapped them out.

The recovery period for his knee was long, but pain was an old friend, so he pushed forward until he reached this day's result: six miles at a fast walking pace with negligible pain in his knee.

He'd asked his doctor when he could begin jogging again. The man asked him to sit still so he could strike his knee with a hammer and just get it over with. So jogging wasn't recommended by his doctor. The fast walk would have to do for now, but he needed something better.

The waves looked peaceful this morning. He'd already been in the lake earlier. It was still part of his daily routine to swim out and back once, except now, he didn't wait for the first signs of exhaustion before heading back.

Imani told him the lake didn't want him. Her words had frightened and shamed him, so he no longer tested his physical limits in the cold waters. These days, he'd reach the shore again just as the drag of exhaustion began.

He was no longer offering his life to the lake.

He sighed and turned his back on the beautiful blue waters, heading inside for his shower and breakfast.

After that, he'd do the other new thing Christy had introduced him to, checking in with his math nerd buddies on an Internet community discussion board. It had taken a couple of weeks to get past all the messages of surprise at his being alive, then condolences for the loss of his wife before anyone would just fucking talk about math! Now he had a few regulars with whom he kept in touch. It wasn't everyone else's dream of scintillating conversation, but he enjoyed it. He'd actually picked up some promising ideas he was rolling around in the back of his mind.

He smiled as he stepped inside. He had a morning routine to continue.

Chapter 6

Christy Taylor was having another of those moments of enlightenment. She was sitting in her Mercedes Benz C-Class Coupe in the coffee shop parking lot, letting the thoughts filter through her mind. She'd learned to give her brain time to absorb new ideas and viewpoints. It was another lesson from Tyson.

This morning she was grateful for so much, but not things. That was something else Tyson insisted upon for himself. No emotions related to people should be applied to inanimate objects. It diminished the significance of the sentiment.

He hadn't forced any of his personal philosophies on her. It was just how he decided to live his life, and these rules made sense to her as well.

She wasn't looking forward to telling Tyson she wouldn't be able to see him anymore because she was leaving town. She had an opportunity waiting for her in New York City. She'd be finishing her education there as well as starting her career at the headquarters of a prestigious fashion retailer. It was a step in the right direction.

She knew Tyson would be thrilled for her and very supportive. He'd try to hide how sad he'd be to see her go. She was still worried about him. He wasn't ready to be alone. He continued to be a prisoner to his mental blocks. He couldn't ride in a car and hadn't been able to even sit in hers in his driveway with the door open for more than a few minutes.

She sighed. She needed to find a new companion for him. Then she could leave with some peace of mind. She knew he could take Barbara in small doses, as he felt the woman was too controlling, and honestly, he was right. Barbara's maternal instinct was way too strong. Perhaps that was why her own kids visited so infrequently.

Christy went through her list of friends and tried to think of one who might be available to spend some time with Tyson to help him break free of his fears. Unfortunately, most had long-term boyfriends who weren't secure enough to let their girlfriends spend time with someone as hunky as Tyson. She squirmed a little in her seat as she recalled their last date night. Fuck, she was going to have a difficult time finding a new boyfriend who could fuck half as good as Tyson.

She pulled her mind from that and went back to her friends. There was Rachel who just broke up with Chris... after just getting back together with him for the great make-up sex. Yeah, that girl was trouble, and Tyson didn't need that. Neither did Chris, but if he took her back again, they deserved each other.

Jillian! She wasn't seeing anyone at the moment! She thought about their conversation about her last boyfriend and recalled Jillian had real daddy issues. Perhaps dating someone who could be her daddy would be tempting fate. Certainly, Jillian would enjoy it, but she knew Tyson would definitely have problems if she suddenly started calling him that in the throes of passion.

So Jillian was out.

Miranda was seeing Vince, but that was new, and Christy had a bad feeling about the boy. He was friends with Blake, and after having her eyes opened by Tyson, she now saw her ex-fiancé for the entitled little shit that he was. Vince wouldn't be much better.

She thought Miranda might actually be a good match for Tyson as her outgoing personality and her driven positivity might help push Tyson out of his shell. Christy's other friends found Miranda to be a little obnoxious and reckless. The truth was, she just suffered from a little social awkwardness. Nothing Tyson's patient nature couldn't deal with. He might even help her gain some confidence.

The woman was a second-generation American with Mexican heritage. She was a few inches shorter than Christy with lovely caramel skin, soulful brown eyes, lush, full lips, and long brown hair to just above her ass.

Miranda complained vehemently about her ass as it rounder than any of her white friends. It wasn't all fat either, as she had strong muscles in there from her dedication to her favorite sport, road cycling.

Compensating for her extra bodacious ass, her breasts easily fit under a man's hand. She was always lamenting Christy must have received Miranda's share as well as her own from the booby fairy.

This kind of outburst and how she clung to Christy's chest when she said it was just the kind of thing that made Christy's other friends uncomfortable. Christy just thought it was funny.

Just what Tyson needed.

She started her car and drove back toward her neighborhood but turned onto a side street just a block short of her own. Miranda Moreno lived with her parents in a lovely five-bedroom home a block away from Christy's parents' mansion. Miranda was the oldest child, but she had an eighteen-year-old brother, Raúl Jr., and a sixteen-year-old sister, Natalie. As a single child herself, Christy envied her friend having siblings, not that she'd told her own parents this.

Miranda's dad, Raúl Sr., was a very successful stockbroker, and her mom, Marie, had a thriving staging business. Christy heard from her friend that Raúl just got a new pickup truck for his eighteenth and was eager to ask Christy if she'd like to take a drive with him some night. Miranda hadn't been able to deliver that news without bursting into laughter at the look on Christy's face. Apparently, he considered himself to be a player.

She parked and walked up to the front door to ring the bell.

Moments later, Raúl Jr. was standing in the doorway with a delighted smile.

"Good morning, Christy! You look beautiful this morning," he said as smoothly as an eighteen-year-old could.

She gave him a knowing smile and a raised brow. "Good morning, Raúl. I think you should save that charm for your girlfriends."

"Christy! Ignore that fool and come on back to the kitchen!" Miranda's voice called out from the other room.

Raúl seemed to be lost in Christy's blue eyes and brilliant smile as he pondered the meaning of her comment. She could imagine him wondering if she thought he was hot enough to have multiple girlfriends.

She stepped around the muscular young man. He obviously spent time in the gym. Maybe that's where he picked up the toxic masculinity.

She walked into the kitchen, feeling his eyes on her ass the entire way.

"Junior, get your eyes off my friend's ass! Stop acting like such a stupid little shit!" Miranda snapped, and Christy's eyes went to her friend in concern.

"I'm not, and stop calling me Junior!" he barked back. When Christy looked at him, he tried to get his cool back. "Besides, ladies like it when a man shows appreciation for their bodies like that!"

Christy winced and shook her head to show him he was wrong, and he frowned in embarrassment. "I'll introduce you to a friend of mine who knows exactly how to treat a woman to make her feel special," she suggested.

Raúl's smile returned.

"Is this the mystery boyfriend you won't introduce your friends to? The perfect man?" Miranda said with a little more bite than intended.

Christy was immediately worried for her friend. She looked to Raúl. "Could we have the room?" she asked gently, and he began nodding as he could obviously see his big sister was distressed.

Miranda stood, grabbed Christy's hand, and looked to her brother. "Never mind, we'll go up to my room."

Christy followed her upstairs and into her femininely appointed room. Miranda closed the door, and her pretty brown eyes were suddenly filled with tears. Christy opened her arms, and Miranda crushed herself against her friend's chest as the tears began to fall.

"What happened?" Christy asked when the tears began to slow.

Miranda's sadness flared into anger. "Vince is a racist piece of shit!"

Christy wasn't surprised by the announcement, but she kept that from her face. "What did he do?"

"The day after we did it, he broke up with me in a text, then he posted a picture of us with the caption fucking a spic left me feeling greasy.

"What?" Christy gasped in outrage.

"The post was pulled eventually, but everyone had seen it by then. It was humiliating!" She burst into tears again.

Christy fumed silently as he held her friend. If she could get her hands on a screen capture of the page before the post had been removed, and she knew exactly which of her friends to ask for it, she'd see that the Dean got it and took steps. Getting Vince ejected from the university for this smear campaign would be a good start. She'd make it happen!

Miranda got her composure back and pulled back from her friend with a look of determination on her lovely face. "That's it! Until I graduate, no more dating. There are no worthy men in this university!"

Christy gave her a hopeful smile. "Does that mean you might be available to look in on a friend of mine from time to time?"

Miranda blotted her eyes with a tissue and looked at Christy in confusion. "A friend?"

"Tyson Kane."

Miranda's confusion grew. "Wait... I know that name."

Christy sighed. "The train terrorists."

"Yes! That's right! He stopped the train— oh! His wife died, and he was badly injured. You've been nursing him back to health?" Miranda gasped.

An image of Tyson sucking on her nipples flashed in her mind, and her cheeks flushed. "N-not exactly. He was mostly healed by the time I went to him for tutoring in math." She shook her head to get back on track. "He did lose his wife in the accident, which he barely survived, himself. He was also severely traumatized by the event and still has anxiety issues. I've been trying to get him to come into town, but he can't sit inside a car. He had to be heavily tranquilized for me to bring him in for knee replacement surgery."

Miranda stared at her in surprise. This was an entirely different side to her friend she hadn't seen. A huge smile burst onto her face.

"What?" Christy asked cautiously.

"You continue to surprise me, Ms. Taylor!" she giggled happily.

Christy shook her head in confusion.

"Your selflessness is such an inspir—"

"Whoa! Don't be strapping angel wings on my back! I went there to get him to help me with my math class. He is a phenomenal teacher! In just one day, he resolved all the issues I had. Of course, I was grateful! I wanted to help him in return. He's... he's a really great man!"

Miranda just smiled and nodded with a smug little smile on her face.

Christy cleared her throat and gave her friend a hopeful look. "You know I'm going to be leaving soon. I would feel so much better knowing someone was checking in on him a few times a week."

"Get him out on his feet, walking around?" Miranda suggested.

Christy nodded. "He swims in the lake in the morning and goes for a six-mile walk after that. He also works out in his home gym."

Miranda gave him an impressed look. "So, he understands the importance of physical therapy."

Christy smiled. "Oh, yes."

"Sure, I can do that. Where is he?" Miranda said, and Christy pulled her into a hug as she cheered.

"Give me your cell, and I'll add his details," Christy said. Miranda handed it over as Christy pulled up the information on her cell.

"He lives on the lakefront road? Lucky man! Who'd he kill to get that house?" Miranda asked with a grin.

Christy gave her a weary look. "The leases on the homes there are handed down through the family, so he inherited it from his parents when they passed on." She finished adding Tyson's information into Miranda's cell.

Miranda looked suitably apologetic for the crass question.

Christy's cell pinged from a text she quickly read. "Ah! It's my mom! I was supposed to join her and my aunt at the club. I have to go." She hammered out a quick reply saying she was almost there. Then she grabbed Miranda's arms and looked into her eyes. "Listen, I'm sorry about Vince. He's an idiot, and there will be consequences for him. Also, I really appreciate you checking in with Tyson. You won't regret it. He's amazing!"

She leaped to her feet and rushed downstairs as she had to make it across town in five minutes.

That was easy peasy when you drive a rocket.

-=-

Miranda looked at her fleeing friend in surprise. She wondered what amazing things were happening in her life now.

She wasn't jealous of her friend. Well, not too much, at least.

She looked at the address on her cell and decided she'd ride her bicycle on the new trail to visit him tomorrow.

Miranda had heard the story of the two students who decided to burn down the town and how they met their end at a train crossing when their stolen engine hit Tyson Kane's car, killing his wife.

Curious, she grabbed her tablet and pulled up the story of the night. She followed some links and was eventually reading about the man himself.

"Shit! He's a big one," she muttered when she looked at the photo of the thick professor at some university event. His arm was around a slim woman, making him look even larger. The woman was a real beauty whose skin was similarly toned as hers. Tyson appeared very happy. Losing this woman must have been hard for the math nerd.

If Christy thought he was a nice man, Miranda was looking forward to meeting him. She giggled happily as he looked like a big teddy bear.

She could use a hug after the shit Vince put her through.

Chapter 7

The lake water felt warmer than usual as Tyson cut through the small ripples with a steady stroke. His endurance kept improving, and he thought he was getting a little farther across the lake each time before he turned back. He was cautious not to overindulge the idea of continuing. He had so little body fat, so he had to keep moving, or he'd sink.

He glanced upwards and saw beautiful blue skies, so they were in for a lovely day. He decided he'd get in a little sunbathing.

Turning back, he spotted Barbara's home with its rooftop deck and caught the glint of sun on the lenses of her binoculars. Ever the protective momma bear, Barbara had been keeping an eye on him for years. Watching him struggle to make it back to shore in the years before Imani told him to stop.

NO! It was Christy's presence that made him realize he had something to live for.

Imani is dead. Hallucinations aside, she no longer existed.

It was Christy that brought to his attention to the fact that Barbara had taken on the role of sentinel and silent support. The young woman told him about hearing his neighbor's quiet words of encouragement the morning she first saw him stagger out of the water.

So, his neighbor had a clear view into his backyard from her roof platform and had a pair of binoculars. He continued to cut through the water strongly as he thought about that. He sighed internally.