[Monday, June 14]

Eric and Tami tended to go to bed early so they could talk in privacy or make love quietly. Tonight they did both, the lovemaking first, with the ceiling fan cooling them from above, pumping its blades rapidly overhead while Eric pumped in and out of her.

Tami's legs were spread and her ankles hooked about his calves. He supported himself by the palms of his hands to keep the weight off of her. He watched her breasts move in the dim glow of the bedside lamp as she chased the pleasure with her own eager thrusts.

"Beautiful," he told her, his eyes dark with desire. "You're so beautiful, Tami. Damn, I love the feel of you."

As the wave mounted inside her, she closed her eyes and dug her fingers into his hips.

"That's right," he told her. "Cum for me, babe. Cum for me." The breathy urgency of his command told her that he was precariously close to the edge himself and he wanted her to climax before it was too late.

Fortunately, she was so near herself, that the deep, commanding tone of his voice was enough to send her over. Her back arched, her eyes opened, and she let out a loud cry of pleasure.

"Shhh!" Eric lowered his head, as if to silence her by covering her mouth with his own, but before he could, he was overwhelmed by his own release. His cry eclipsed hers before he could bury it in the pillow. He collapsed with a shudder atop her.

Breathing heavily, he rolled off of her. She turned on her side, kissed his cheek, slung a leg over both of his, and settled her chin on his shoulder. "You're so paranoid about being heard," she said. "These walls are pretty thick. We haven't heard them."

Eric licked his lips and swallowed. She could tell he was struggling to regain his composure, but surely he knew the drill by now. She always wanted to talk after sex.

He took another moment before his breathing mostly leveled. "Maybe because they aren't doing it," he said.

"What makes you think that?"

"They're so busy. And Andrew's only nine months. The first year after Julie...we didn't do it that much."

"Yes we did!"

"Once a week, maybe."

"Twice a week," Tami insisted, "at least." She raised her head and peered down at him. "Is this what you and your dad were talking about Saturday when you were talking about women? Were you telling him how sore deprived you were that year?"

"No," he insisted.

She didn't believe him. She lay her head back down and hrmphed.

"I didn't," Eric insisted. "You think I'm going to talk about my sex life to my dad? But he sort of casually asked what I thought was a normal amount for the year after a kid was born. And I got the impression he and Karen haven't been...you know...as active as he'd like."

"Well no amount is ever enough for you men," Tami complained. "I suppose you reassured him that you were starved too?"

"I just said it gets better." He changed the subject. "How was your day?"

Tami decided to let it slide. "Good. I took the kids to the park. Not for long, though. It was hot. We couldn't touch half of the stuff. But the sandbox is shaded."

"Hear from any of those schools you applied to?"

"No. I guess maybe they're waiting until July to interview, when school is out of session. How was your certification program today?"

"Awful," he told her. "They made us play this stupid game where we put a famous person's name on everyone's back and had to ask each other questions to guess who we were. I didn't even know who some of the famous people were. They didn't even have a single football player!"

She chuckled. "And what was the point of that exercise?"

"They were telling us how we could do ice breakers in our class the first week of school. But we're not going to be doing any stupid games in my classes. My students are all going to sit down, shut up, and learn."

"Sounds like you're going to be a fun teacher."

"I don't want to be a fun teacher," he said. "I want to be that teacher everybody hates, but then, five years later, when they're seniors in college, they say to themselves, I'm so glad I had that guy for American History. If it weren't for him, I never would have learned to sit down, shut up, and learn."

Tami kissed his cheek and smiled. "But learning can be fun, Eric. Good teachers make learning fun."

"I made learning Algebra II pretty damn fun for you, didn't I?" He winked.

"You better not be using that instructional method with those 11th grade girls."

He shot her a disgusted look.

She laughed. But then her face grew serious. "Honestly, though, hon, be careful. Some of those girls are going to be stopping by after class, asking you for extra help, flirting with you…Keep the door open anytime you're in the room alone with a girl."

"What are you implying?"

"Eric, you're good-looking. You're only going to be six years older than those girls. And some teenage girls can be aggressive. Trust me on this. Just be careful. I know. I was one of those girls who was happy to flirt with a cute, young teacher."

"What? Who?"

"Mr. Bell. He was twenty-one. Tenth grade English."

"Is he the one who got fired?"

She nodded.

"Because of you?"

She smacked him on the shoulder. "No! Not because of me. I had no intention to follow through. But I think he did cross the line with someone." She shook her head. "We all flirted with him. All of us girls. We had no idea how foolish we were being, how dangerous it was. And he did not nip that in the bud the way he should have."

"I hope you know I'm not a pervert like Mr. Bell."

"I don't think he was exactly a pervert, Eric. We weren't eleven. But I think he abused his authority. And yes, of course I know you would never do such a thing. That's not what I'm saying. I'm saying you have to be careful to protect yourself."

"Yeah, I know, they told us all that. That's one of the things we're learning about. All the cover-your-ass guidelines. Hundreds of them. Someday they're going to have to make teachers get law degrees just to teach."

They talked awhile longer, like two kids at a slumber party, both falling asleep somewhere in the midst of the conversation.

[Tuesday, June 15]

"Hi! This is Tami Taylor," Tami said cheerfully. "I'm a graduate of the psychology program at Baylor University, and I shot y'all over my resume a few weeks ago for the guidance counselor position, and I was just calling to see if you'd - "

" - We filled that position in-house already," the school secretary said curtly.

"Oh. How do you fill a counselor position in-house? You mean a teacher stepped into that job?"

"We hired a counselor from another school within Arlington ISD that needed fewer counselors next year. She has ten years of experience."

"Oh. Okay. Well thank you for your time."

Tami put down the kitchen phone and sighed. She crossed another school off her list.

"No luck?" Mr. Taylor asked as he screwed the cap on Andrew's sippy cup and set it on his tray. He also placed some cooked carrots before his son and then cleared his own lunch plate from the table.

"Not yet," Tami said. "But I'm sure things will turn around."

"They'd be fools not to hire you," Mr. Taylor assured her as he grabbed the tool belt he'd draped on the back of a kitchen chair and began to snap it on. He liked to try to make it home at Andrew's lunch time, but then he typically returned to the field, or retreated to his garage shop, or did administrative work in his study. "I've got to get back to the job site. Y'all have a good day."

"Bye, bye, grampa," Julie told him.

[Wednesday, June 16, 1992]

One night, as they lay drifting off to sleep, Eric and Tami were startled awake by sounds rising and falling from Karen and Garrett's bedroom, not the loud sex that had once reddened Eric, but something worse. An argument.

Much of the argument was muffled, but every now and then a raised voice would reach them. Mr. Taylor yelling, "You're never home for dinner!"

Karen yelling back, "You knew my goals when you married me!"

Mr. Taylor, responding with muffled words that concluded with a clear "What about Andrew?" More muffled words, followed by, "only going to get worse" (muffle, muffle) "start your residency!"

Then Karen, "Well," (muffle, muffle) "working much more than you said you would" (muffle, muffle) "repairs" (muffle, muffle) "invoices" (muffle, muffle) "plans" (muffle, muffle) "in the garage until midnight last Saturday!" (muffle, muffle) "double standard!" (muffle, muffle) "…is good for the gander!"

Mr. Taylor: "Really, Karen (muffle, muffle) you're supposed to (muffle, muffle), I mean, for God's sake, you're his mother!"

Karen, loudly: "How dare you!"

Eric put the pillow over his ears and winced.

A door slammed.

When silence followed, Eric eased his face out from under the pillow, peered at Tami, and said, "I hope they're okay. They've got a kid now."