The Lighthouse Ch. 03

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Chapter 3

The street hummed along under the coasting tires. Ethan cautiously navigated his way through traffic, missing four potholes – to his count – and keeping adequate space between himself and the other jackasses on the road. Usually patient, it was often shocking for passengers to see the rageaholic he morphed into while amidst--in his words--"Moronic assholes."

Tiffany, still grinning after his latest out-burst, asked, "What do you do for fun, Ethan? And I don't mean, giddy-laughing fun, but relaxing-unwinding fun." Apparently it was her attempt to take his mind off the driver that had just cut him off.

Ethan kept a hand on the steering wheel and peered out the side window, checking the mirror. "I like to get alone in a quiet, secluded place and fish usually," he said. "But this time of year, it's hard to find moments like that for myself, so I don't relax much." He turned on his signal and moved over to the slower lane. "I have a lot that demands my attention: The way my team is playing, what team we're up against next and how well prepared we are for them, who, if any, are injured and what positions need replaced . . . the stress of my wife with her job and the million things screaming for her attention--which somehow gets brought to my attention too." He paused momentarily thinking about that. "As if I could do anything about it. But then again, I guess that is the role of a good husband, huh? Keeping up with the goings-on of your spouse and being her shoulder to lean on or cry on . . . sometimes scream in frustration at."

"You are a good man, Ethan. And no doubt a good husband." She reached over and grabbed his shoulder. "But you do need to make time for yourself, too." She squeezed him. "Do somethingyouwant to do. Find something that relaxes you, that allows you to just breath for a few minutes. It doesn't have to be anything grand or require a lot of time. Just something that reinvigorates you. You need it." Then whispering, "You deserve it."

The warmth of her hand felt like it was branding itself through his shirt and into his skin. He stole a quick look at her bright eyes, her sincere smile, and knew she meant every word. She was truly concerned for him.

Wow! It's amazing how a person can change from a stranger to friend.

"You're right. I do let too much build up on me--in me--and I probably should do a little more and think a little more for myself."

"Yes, you should." She nodded. Her hand still softly squeezing him.

No one said anything for a moment and the car filled with silence.

When it seemed to reach its peak, she awkwardly withdrew her hand and set it in her lap. Rubbing it as if she had been stung. She turned her head and faced out the window.

The flurry of emotion battering Ethan's gut left him incapable of deciphering anything. Body language, thought, expression, nothing. He was able to make out the absence of her hand's warmth, however, and the seemingly palpable mark it left on his shoulder.

He found himself wanting to have it back. To have her hand placed right where it was before she removed it. He wanted to feel her mass against his. Against the shoulder that now felt hollow, as if the joint had been removed. He recalled the way every finger of hers molded into him. The slow motion of her hand caressing his muscle. Her unbidden proximity.

Careful buddy. That's a slippery slope.

He kept his eyes forward and watched the road ahead as he tried to garner the substance and cause of his response, or lack thereof.

Should he be upset? Was it inappropriate?

No. That's nonsense. What is there to be upset about? What was so inappropriate about her grabbing my shoulder?

Should he tell her not to touch him anymore? That his wife would never allow another woman in the world to ever feel him, in any manner--physically or otherwise. That he was incapable of having another female's body, in any way, pressed against his own without him losing sense of all his inhibitions and fumbling into a lust-ridden state of carnality.

What are we, nine-year-old children? So what? She touched me. It was innocent. There was nothing to it and nothing meant by it.

He sparred back with himself.

Then why is it bothering you? Why are you having this conversation with yourself if you really believe there was nothing to it?

He wasn't sure.

Why did she linger?

But he was afraid to contemplate that one too long.

He knew. He knew deep down and he kept it shoved, deep down. He was brave enough to realize the truth and reality of his lust, but wasn't ready to take on the possibility of having her reciprocate it.

He cleared his throat, if for nothing more than to fill the air between them with some other noise than the spinning of the car's tires on pavement. He took a peek at Tiffany from the corners of his eyes, hoping she wasn't looking back. She wasn't. She was in a world to herself watching, most likely nothing, out the window. He tried to find something to say. Something to draw her attention back into the vehicle and let her know that everything was copacetic. He came up with nothing.

He pulled into their parking space and turned off the engine. He turned towards her, but before he could tell her to"Have a good day",she had opened the door and left. Leaving him alone with his thoughts.

Julianne's door was always open. The constant barrage of people passing in and out of her office, never ending it seemed. It was annoying at times, but most of the time she didn't mind. She walked in just as Regina was stuffing papers into her desk drawer.

"Hey, Julianne." Regina closed the drawer. "Got the files you asked for. I put 'em here." Bumping the drawer with her hip. "You okay? You don't look so good."

She walked around to the front of Julianne's desk and took a seat in one of the two chairs stationed there. She folded her hands into her lap, her face scrunched in an expression of concern.

Julianne sat her purse and briefcase down in the far corner, then took a seat behind her desk. She placed her arms on the chair's rests and leaned back, causing the old chair to squeak.

"Honestly, I feel like shit," she said.

"Is it the flu? If you need to go home, I can cover for you. It's not a problem."

Julianne shook her head. "No. It's more like a mental flu. I've got so much going on up here," she pointed to her head, "I feel like I can't keep up. I'm a mess and apparently it's showing."

She hated gushing out on anyone like that, especially at work, but Regina kept to herself and was never a gossip. Though Julianne was certain she received a lot of it due to her ability to keep quiet. She briefly thought of anyone else she could talk to. She needed to vent. To let out her concerns and frustrations and have someone tell her, audibly, that it was going to be okay. That it would all work out. She wanted to tell Ethan but knew that would go over about as well as a walrus trying to fly.

I wonder if he even realizes how bad things have become between us?

She leaned forward and grabbed a pen that was laying out of place on her desk. She put it back where it belonged. "She likes everything he likes." Then mocking Ethan, she added, "'We have so much in common!'" Her hands flew up, throwing off the characterization. "Of course she likes everything you like Ethan! She likes you! She's gonna tell you whatever the fuck you want to hear!"

Her arms came crashing back down onto the armrests as she sighed. "How can he be so oblivious?" She looked at Regina, a tinge of sadness and pain visible in her eyes "Men really are idiots sometimes."

The realization of Julianne's trouble became apparent and Regina could only frown. "I'm so sorry, Julianne." She looked down at the desk, unable to hold Julianne's stare any longer.

"It's okay. I'll be okay. I shouldn't be dumping this out on you anyway. I'm sure you have your own shit to deal with. You don't need mine too," Julianne said.

Regina quickly quipped back in a forceful tone, "Tell him to cut the shit! Quit talking about . . . whoever she is, like she's Athena and to open his damn eyes to see what he has right in front of him." She motioned her hand out in Julianne's direction. "And tell him to quit being the dumb, blind, asshole that he is!" She then sat back, folding her arms.

Julianne looked at her. She was both shocked and oddly amused. The echo of Regina's words seemed to resonate within the four walls of her office and she began to chuckle. At first she tried to keep it to herself, not wanting to offend Regina, but then it grew and she couldn't hold it in. Her laugh got louder and the more she heard her own voice, the more she laughed.

Regina looked startled. The sudden eruption from Julianne had to be the last thing she expected, but the more Julianne laughed, the more contagious it became. Regina then began smiling, watching Julianne hold her side, eyes squinted as her cheeks puffed up into her lower eye lids. Then she couldn't help it. She joined her. It was a small laugh at first, but quickly grew into the side-splitting sort as she reached over and took Julianne's hands into her own. The two looked at each other--red-faced, tussled hair, mouths agape--and in that moment created a bond of friendship while laughing over, who knows what and what for.

Finally, after a few appreciated minutes, their laughter subsided and they calmed down. Julianne pulled a couple tissues from her desk drawer, giving one to Regina. They dabbed the corners of their eyes and checked each others' make-up. Tear smears were nothing new to Julianne, but at least this time they were tears of laughter.

"I don't know about you, but I sure needed that," Julianne said.

"Better laugh than cry, right? Or at the least cry from laughter." Regina said smiling, as she held up the tissue. "I wish I were more help Julianne, really I do, but I've to nothing to offer. This is why I'm not married." She shrugged. "So, what are you going to do?"

Julianne took a deep breath. "Nothing. I'm going to do nothing. I'm going to be there for him like I always have, I'm going to love him like only I can, and I'm going to trust that somehow, someway, he'll remember me."

Ethan seemed more absent lately than Julianne could ever remember, but she was determined to hold her ground and wait on him. She wasn't ready to give up the last sliver of hope she had. If she did, she knew all would be lost. It seemed like the easier choice to just let him go, to set him free to choose and pursue his own path. But her heart wouldn't allow it.

The guys ran through the offense, broken up into two teams, as Ethan wandered about the confines of his own head, trying to make sense of the morning's events. He struggled there most of the day. Getting no where and coming up with more questions than answers. He had mulled it over from every angle he could conjure up and still with no definitive explanation. Moreover, he wasn't sure how he felt about it--or how he should feel.

Part of him, a large part if he was honest, enjoyed it. The attention of an attractive woman was enough to swell any man's pride and he wasn't an exception. But there was more to her than that. It wasn't just her looks and beauty. It was the way she made him feel. Actuallyfeel. He hadn't felt like that in--he wasn't sure the last time. Hearing her name or seeing her face got an instant smile from him and he was aware of it. He wasn't trying to fight the emotions going through him, however, he did want to understand them. Where were they coming from? Why now? What was it about her that drawled them out? He couldn't deny it, she was alluring.

What is it about her?He smiled in thought to himself.

"Coach?" The guard running the offense spoke, waving his hand at Ethan. "Hey Coach. Are we playing high-press-pick or low this week?"

"Huh? Oh, we're playing high. I want at least two picks set before the ball is dropped near the basket."

Ethan made sure they were getting the flow of the offense right while he watched them run through the drill again.

The point guard slapped the ball and made a quick cut to the right. The bottom two posts came up, setting two high screens for the forwards, who moved around them to the lower blocks nearest the goal. The guard passed the ball in to the near forward, who passed it back to him after leaning into his defender and taking two dribbles. The forwards cut back up to the free-throw line and set picks for the posts. The guard crossed over, dribbling back to the top of the key and zipped the ball straight down the center towards the high post streaking straight for the basket off the forwards' picks. He turned and easily laid the ball off the glass for two points.

"Nice job guys." Ethan said, clapping. "If we execute just like that, we should finally get our first win this Thursday night."

He blew the whistle. "Baseline. Let's go."

The guys moaned. "Come on Coach, we ran a good practice. Can't we skip the conditioning today?"

"I'll let you skip the conditioning as soon as you guys win four straight instead of losing four straight. Preparation is the key to victory, boys. Prepare today for the battle tomorrow. Prepare physically," then tapping his head, "and mentally. And right now, you all have the mental equivalency of a two year old." He smiled. "And until you can envision your success, you're gonna have none. Now, let's go."

The guys lined up. Ethan blew the whistle and they fired out of their stances, racing for the opposite wall.

Julianne pulled open the gymnasium door and went inside. The stench of sweating teenagers immediately slamming into her face upon entering. She grimaced.

Gross.

She scanned the gym and spotted Ethan. A smile broke the grimaced cast upon her face as she approached him, the stench saturating the air suddenly becoming a figment of another time.

"Hiya stud. You're looking good today."

His peered over his shoulder and grinned with the whistle still in his mouth. He pulled it out. "Hey yourself. What brings you down here?" He put his arm around her side and gave her a quick squeeze.

"I wanted to check on you. See if you needed anything." She held her hands behind her back and faced him, wanting so badly to grab his cock and squeeze it. To know that it was in her hands, that it was hers. But after taking a quick glance around the gym, there were just far too many witnesses for that.

Ethan caught the twinkle in her eye and she knew he was aware of her impure thoughts but didn't say anything.

"No, nothing that I can think of . . . for now." He replied and winked.

It felt like a warm blanket on a cold day to her soul. She wanted to melt. She lingered, needing him. "How's practice going? Think you'll get a win Thursday night?"

"It's going well. I think the guys are finally connecting the dots, or, at least I hope they are--they seem to be."

His vision was cast down court and she supposed he was watching the guys as they sprinted from one end of the court to the next, making sure no one was slacking. But then his face changed. He seemed in a good mood, but now it took on a whole new light. Something caught his attention. Something evoking a glow from him.

She followed his gaze and noticed it wasn't the guys he was watching, but something on the other side of them. On the far side of the gym. Near the door perhaps. She looked. She spotted nothing--a shadow just outside the glass of the gym door. Then it moved. There was someone behind the glass, but the light gleaming off it from her angle made it nearly impossible to make out who it was. Then it moved, the shadow moved again, just right. It was Tiffany.

Julianne's blanket was stripped from her and the icy cold wind blew across her naked body. "I was thinking about ordering some take out tonight. What do you think?" She kept her eyes locked on the glass, watching, as she tried to get his attention back onto her. She needed it and it was all she needed.

"Huh? Oh, sure. That sounds good." He replied. Slowly, he turned back to her. and his face fell flat in recognition of being noticed.

A sinister mask of scorn covered her once smiling face, her eyes dark and narrow. She was fighting to put her emotions under control and to keep the tears from coming. It felt like a living nightmare. How could she be so sweetly enraptured one moment only to be kicked from off the precipice to fall into a thousand abysses the next so cruelly?

Julianne, calm down. You're in public. There are witnesses. You are the school's principal. Act like it.

She lifted her chin and waved, giving Tiffany the only smile she had left.

Ethan cleared his throat, sounding as if he was about to choke. His face red. Either from shame or embarrassment or perhaps both. It should be both, she thought.

Tiffany waved back at Julianne, while smiling at Ethan.

Ethan nodded in acknowledgment, then slightly dropped his head.

The dark circles around Julianne's eyes and the corners of her upturned lips conveyed one message to all who knew her and knew her well. A message of enmity.

"Uh, take out sounds great. I've been in the mood for some Chinese for a while actually." Ethan said. Getting back on point.

Julianne turned and looked at Ethan. The twinkle now gone from her eye. The last, small smile on her face endured one more second, then vanished. Revealing the smoldering look of a murderous devil in its place.

Julianne left.