Caitlin shuddered, walking past Craig's room to get to Joey's. His door was half open and she could see him sleeping, could see his hair sticking to his forehead, one hand across his chest. The bottom of his feet, soft and vulnerable looking. She had the completely unexpected thought that maybe he was sexy, and what would it be like…and then she shuddered, rushed past, and into the warm dim glow of Joey's room.
"Hey, sexy," he said in his half joking Joey way, and Caitlin kicked off her high heels, her arches aching.
"Hey," she said, looking at the candle light reflected in his smooth head, but his dark eyes were just the same.
She climbed into his bed, shedding clothes as she went until she was down to her silk slip and lace bra. Joey ran a hand along her arm, and she closed her eyes and smiled. She wouldn't think about Craig, a child for God's sake, a 15 year old boy. Dirty old woman, she laughed at herself, and fell into Joey's embrace, tilted her head up for a deep and passionate kiss.
Next morning the thought the same, and she could barely look at Craig as he moved around the kitchen, dressed in flannel pajama pants, his smooth bare skin driving her a little mad. She could see the faint outline of his ribs, his shoulder blades, broad shoulders. He was already taller than Joey. His hair messy curly from sleep, obscuring his eyes. She observed him from the corner of her eye, and Joey's back was turned as he made a pot of coffee.
Saturday. The whole day stretching before them, although whatever she and Joey did would probably include Angela and exclude Craig. That was fine. She didn't know how much more of Craig she could take.
"What are your plans today?" Joey said, talking to Craig. Craig hunched over a bowl of cereal, shrugged, swallowed the bite.
"I don't know. Maybe go over Marco's,"
Caitlin smiled a little, remembering the vague mentions of going to friends' houses to cover for whatever it was that everyone was really doing. The secrets of being a teenager. And looking at him, his sleepy eyes, full pouty lips, she wondered what it was he thought of her.
"Okay," Joey said, easy going, and she thought Joey was sexy, too. She had for years. But this latest version, bald, lines around his mouth and eyes, this version was laid so lightly over all the other versions she had known, all the way back to seventh grade. Skinny dark haired boy, always laughing, joking, making her smile, making her feel like she wanted things.
They decided to take Angela to a matinee, and Joey bought big tubs of buttery popcorn and fat paper cups of soda and bags of gummi bears, Caitlin's absolute favorite movie snack. She only had a few of the white ones, pineapple, her favorite. Her hand touched Joey's in the popcorn tub and they laughed, kissed, and watched the movie. Out in the lobby, Angela had successfully nagged Joey to get a roll of quarters for the games and she played happily, shooting various monsters and machines with the cyber gun. The smell of the lobby, popcorn and slow cooking hotdogs and something else, the rug or the heater always reminded her of when she came to the movies every weekend. Closed her eyes and she was 12, exactly. No time had passed.
At Joey's late that night, cuddled up on the couch watching T.V., Angela in bed. Only the T.V. was on and they were in its fuzzy glow when the door burst open, letting in the cold, Craig stamping the snow off his boots.
"Hey," he said, his cheeks red from the cold, and he unwrapped the scarf, shrugged out of the jacket, and Caitlin caught her breath.
Friday, and Joey called her at her office.
"Caitlin, I'm kinda stuck. I have to go to this overnight business convention in Montreal and my mom's out of town, I need a sitter for Angela. Craig has plans,"
"Sure, I can do it," She tapped her pen on her desk, thinking she didn't mind, not at all, and it would be best that Craig wasn't there.
"Really? You're a lifesaver. Thanks. You know I love you,"
"I love you, too," She said, and then the dark thought crossed her mind. He didn't say that Craig wouldn't be there at all, just that he had plans.
Arriving after work, Joey packed and ready to go. Angela bounding toward her, her curly hair in pigtails.
"Auntie Caitlin!" And she smiled as Angela barreled into her arms. She was not Auntie Caitlin for Craig, she had never met him until he moved in with Joey.
Joey drove away and she watched him go, watched the car grow smaller in the distance. Goodbye Joey. Ordered pizza with all the toppings, ate at the coffee table in front of the tube. Played games and did puzzles until almost nine, and she had to tell Angie it was time for bed.
"Noooooooo,"
"Your dad said you had to be in bed an hour ago, so c'mon,"
That done, toothpaste all washed out of the sink, Angela in feety pajamas, story read, she crept back downstairs to zone out to some late night reruns. Comfortable on the couch, all wrapped up in the afghan Joey's mom had made, the extra long one. Toasty and warm and sleepy, watching the numbers on the clock creep by.
She sat straight up when she heard something at the door. Joey wasn't due back tonight. Her heart racing, she thought of her babysitting days in high school when she'd grab the sharp knife when she heard strange noises. Maybe it was Craig. She got up, feeling the chill in the room as the afghan fell away and she shivered, tiptoed to the window next to the door and peeked out. It was Craig, fumbling with his key.
She opened the door and he looked up at her and she knew right away he was drunk. The eyes. The smell of alcohol, whatever sickly sweet liquor they had drank. The way his fingers couldn't work the key.
"Craig," she said, surprise in her voice.
"Caitlin, is, uh, is Joey here?" Slurred speech but still a little fear in his eyes.
"No, he's at a business convention. Come on, come in, it's freezing out here,"
She helped him in, he stumbled, almost fell. She caught him and staggered under his weight. Out of his jacket and scarf, sitting on the stairs to take off his boots. What she should do is let him go to bed, sleep it off. Upstairs, away from her.
"Want to watch some T.V. with me?" she said, feeling absurdly hopeful that he would say yes.
"Sure," He came over to the couch slowly, sunk into the cushions. Caitlin could smell the cologne he wore, the smell of smoke from some bonfire, the smell of alcohol. She sat up straight. She could seduce him. She knew how. Just one hand on his knee, moving slowly up his thigh. One hand tugging on the button to his jeans. Just one kiss, her head tilted up to his, and then maybe, maybe…
They watched one half hour show, his eyes heavy. Caitlin moved away from him an inch or two to assuage her guilt, tried to concentrate on the show.
"Where's Joey?" he said, and she told him again. He was that drunk that he couldn't remember what she told him ten minutes ago.
"Craig, you better go up to bed," she said gently, and he nodded, stood up and walked slowly toward the stairs. She wrapped herself up in the afghan again, trying to recapture that warm sleepy feeling she had before he came home.
She heard a crash and sat bolt upright, flew up the stairs and into Angie's room. She was asleep. Craig's room, and Craig was getting up, holding onto the wall.
"Are you alright?" she said, and he nodded.
"Yeah, I just fell,"
Still unsteady and she went over to him, grabbed him around the waist and helped him to the bed. She could hear him breathing like drunk people tend to do, through their mouths. He looked at her next to him on the bed and his stare was charged. She blinked, and before she could help it she leaned into him, turned her face to his and kissed his lips.