January 2021
"I should really get home," I say as raise myself up from the bed I was lying on. I reach for my bra that was on the ground beside the bed.
"Stay," he says to me. "I can buy you breakfast in the morning." His hand ran over my side. "God, you are beautiful." Another kiss on the shoulder and a part of me misses this sort of thing. To feel wanted and beautiful even if it was just for an evening,
I'm old enough to know that this isn't love. This was just the opposite and I had no expectations beyond an orgasm, which definitely happened.
"Thank you, but I have class in the morning," I tell him reaching behind and doing up the clasp and grabbing my underwear and wiggling them on. "I really do have to go home," I say grabbing my phone and checking my messages.
"Is that your niece?" He asks looking over my shoulder, kissing it.
I frown for a moment. "Something like that," I say lying. This wasn't a relationship this was a one-night thing. A part of me is a touch ashamed of just how I ended up in his hotel room. But after spending the evening flirting while I worked at the coffee shop, I just said fuck it when he suggested that I come back to his hotel with him when I was finishing up my shift.
I twist my body around and give him one last kiss before getting up and pulling on the jeans and tee-shirt I had worn to work.
I use the washroom, cleaning myself up and clipping my curls back from my face. I don't leave him my number, I don't even give him my last name. I leave the hotel through the side door, my car still in its parking spot and make the drive home, the light was still on when I got home.
It's nice to be able to drive myself places again, and I had gotten a car seat that was bright pink for Owen which was ecstatic about as well. Though driving with her the first time was an experience, even though it wasn't snowing and bright and sunny out for a change, I had to stop and pull over multiple times to show her that we were fine and that we wouldn't have another accident.
It took a few times before she got used to me driving her around on
ce more, which was nice because every time she panicked the accident came flooding back to me. The knock-on my head, and the various things I swore to myself that came into my mind like a dream when I hit my head hard enough to knock myself out for a moment.
I unlock the front door to see my father still up reading.
"You know I'm 19, that you don't have to wait up for me?" I tease my father who looks me over. "I told you I was going to meet up with friends."
Okay, I'm still not adult enough to not lie to my parents about what I was up to, but really did they need to know the gritty details?
"I wasn't waiting up, I was just reading this new journal without bothering your mother," Dad tells me. "How were the girls?"
"They were good, we just gossiped," I lie to him. "I'm gonna head up to the bed, love you," I tell him before scurrying up the stairs. Before he could smell any sort of sex or cologne on me that may have stuck around.
I go into my medicine box and pop the last pill out of my pack. Glad to know, that it was my period week if anything. I mean I'm not an idiot and I made sure that we had used a condom and all that.
I take a quick shower, washing everything off me before I pulled on an old tee shirt and pair of shorts for bed. I don't think of him, as I curl up on my bed and pull out my journal. I look through my day tomorrow, while I pencil in out of habit what I had eaten that day. Old habits die hard, and while don't record the calories these days. They are still there floating around in my head.
I toss it aside and hit the switch on my lamp before pulling the blankets fully over me. Trying to will myself to sleep which comes eventually, but not clearly enough as my alarm goes off. I pull my hair into a ballet bun and grab my dance bag and some clothes to later go to school in.
I make myself breakfast quietly and pour myself some coffee before heading out the door. I open up the studio drinking my coffee and breakfast as I warm up for the silver swans class.
"Is that a new leotard?" One of the ladies always asks whenever I wear something she hasn't seen before.
I shake my head. "It's actually rather old, I'm surprised that it fits me," I tell her. Granted I threw this one on because it had a high neck and would cover up the rash from last night's beard rash and hickie.
"You are skinny as a rig, my granddaughter probably couldn't even fit into my wedding dress being ten years old." She says.
"Well, I am sure that she is happy and healthy," I say politely. God have women not yet learned how horrible it was to hear such things from people who should love them." My toddler is barely three but I have to buy her a size four or five because she's tall like her father."
"Well tall is nothing, as long as she isn't chubby. Once they go chubby it's so hard for them to thin out again."
"I was a chubby child," I tell her blankly, biting my tongue. "The only thing I ever want for my child is to be happy and healthy and confident in who she is. If she doesn't fit into my prom dress or if I do get married my wedding dress when she's ten. Does it really matter?"
I find myself nursing a headache as I finish up the class. I toss on a pair of jeans over the leotard that I had barely sweated in, after finding out that the shirt I had brought had a strange stain on it. I knew I had another shirt at school I could wear later on if I wanted. Though it wouldn't be the first time I had worn leotards to school with jeans.
I get to school with a few minutes to spare, giving me time to drink down the protein shake that would hold me over until lunchtime.
I don't expect to see him in my class the next day, nor do he I expect but I sit down with my friends
"Everyone this is Carter Delevay, you might recognize him from various news channels, he's an old graduate and now working for the CTV. He's going to be watching your show this morning and giving feedback and later participating in some interviews today. Networking is a large part of this industry and knowing people is a good thing. Also, he will be our guest speaker for the afternoon interview."
The first break I get I rush out of the room into one of the washrooms.
"I am a whore Olivia, oh my god I can't believe myself," I say into the phone ignoring the stares of the other girls in the washroom.
"Rilla dear, back up a bit and explain yourself more," Olivia tells me. "Because you are anything but a whore."
"I slept with a random stranger last night, I got off work and followed him back to his hotel room."
"So? Your nineteen Rilla, not sixteen anymore as long as you were safe and not drunk off your ass. Having sex with a stranger doesn't make you a whore."
"What happens when he comes to your school the next morning and is the guest presenter?" I say back to her.
"Well, then I would say you do have bleeding tragic taste in men?" Olivia says amused, pulling off an old Buffy line. "You were safe about it though?"
"God yes, don't worry about that I learned my lesson about that," I tell her.
"Okay well you have two choices, acknowledge that you had sex or pretend you have a twin sister, which really you have two sets of twins in your family anyway….so it might work?" Olivia tells me next.
"Yeah, there I no way in hell I am acknowledging that in the middle of class," I tell her.
"Whatever you choose, you still are no whore," Olivia reminds me. "I do have to get to class though," she tells me sadly.
"Have fun, I should get ready for mine now as well," I tell her sighing.
I try to focus on my words on the teleprompter, but the hand that is dragging up my thigh under the desk is distracting me and not in a good way. I try to brush him off without breaking out of character so to speak, but he doesn't stop. I already asked him once to keep his hands to himself when he came up behind me and placed his hand on my shoulder which was innocent enough until he kept squeezing it. I just trying to nudge myself forward to escape him, and now during rehearsal, I'm dealing with wandering hands once more.
"I'm sorry," I break out of my announcer voice which throws everyone at the camera. "Can we move to armchairs? I think that will make a better interview thing the here." I say getting up and going to sit on the chair my heart is racing.
Clarke nods his head, confused but allows it.
I managed to get through the rest before I hurry towards the change room. I'm near tears anger is bubbling up inside of me. I think it's one of the girls, as I call out to come in.
The door opens and of course. I see him in the mirror I am looking at myself in.
"Get out, right now."
"Really, must you be like this? I thought after our night together you would enjoy some under-the-desk action." He says smirking.
"I asked you to stop and you ignored it."
"And it looks mighty unprofessional to get up in the middle of an interview and demand another set." He taunts me.
"I don't care if it looks unprofessional, no one, no one has the right to do that to anyone," I hiss at him.
"Stop acting like you're above everyone," he says deeply. "Do I need to remind you about last night?"
"Last night was and is completely different, though I'm starting to wonder if you knew it was me all along?" I question him.
"Stop being such a child, you want to work in the media. Get used to sleeping your way to promotions and remember to watch your mouth. I can make your career go bye-bye before it even begins. No one wants to be labelled difficult to work with before you even graduate."
He threatens me and I square my shoulders.
"Clearly you know nothing about me," I spit at him. "Because someone who considers me a daughter, works in the industry for the past 40 years and can blacklist you just as quickly," I tell him and for the first time, I see him waiver. "Now get out," I shout.
"Rilla?" I hear my name being called out and Dahlia comes into the room looking concerned frowning at Carter.
I fall into one of the chairs as soon as he leaves and let out a sob. Dahlia's arms around me. I barely notice the other people stopping at the doorway.
"He did this last year," Someone said quietly. "Or I think he did?" Amelia was back to finish her second year after being sick enough to drop out.
"What?" I say to her.
"Sarah last year, he kept flirting and well when she had second thoughts and wanted to leave and she threatened to blacklist her before she even graduated so she would never get a job," Amelia tells us quietly. "At least that is what I heard, I told her to tell Clark but I guess she never did if he's back?"
I wrap my arms around myself for comfort. I don't even want to admit the truth, as more and more doubts cloud my mind. I can hear Beth telling me that consensual sex doesn't mean he's allowed to grope me under a table in the middle of school or threaten me. Consensual sex also doesn't make me a whore either, but that doesn't make me feel any better these days.
"Rilla?" I look up to see Clark in the doorway looking concerned. I see Lillie next to him looking just as worried. "What happened?"!
"He was harassing her," Lillie speaks up. "he kept trying to feel her up under the desk. It's why she moved. He didn't like being rejected apparently, I was reviewing other camera views in the control room. I saw it happen."
Clark looks at me and I only nod my head. "I didn't recognize him last night, he came into my work and was flirting, one thing led to another…" I trail off feeling ashamed of myself. "Early today I told him to keep his hands to himself. When I got angry at him because he hadn't, he then threatened to ruin my career before I even graduate."
"Take the rest of the day, do you want me to call the police?" He asks and I only shake my head.
"I've had enough traumatizing court to last me the rest of my life," I say and I can see a few looks cross their faces. "I'll be fine, truly," I tell them all. Maybe after I book an impromptu session with Beth and maybe call Ken's father to ask him about this sort of thing.
I change quickly with the girls guarding the door as I pull on my oversized sweater over my bra, finally taking off the leotard.
I look at the phone, unsure but decide to hit the call button anyway as I sit in my car. It rings a few times before it picks up.
"Rilla, is everything all right?" Owen Ford, Ken's father says to me.
"Yes, everything fine, Ummm I was wondering if I could ask you a question, a professional sort of question?" I ask him nervously.
"Of course, is school not going well?"
"No, No it is, it's just we have a guest speaker and there have been some things said about him and I just wonder?" I trail off.
"What is his name?" Owen asks gently. "What sort of things?"
"Carter Delevay, one of the girls who had to leave the semester last year because she was ill, she told us that he threatened a girl last year when she didn't want to go to his hotel with him by telling her….telling her she didn't value her career and that he could make our career blacklisted before we even graduate?" I tell him.
"Damnit," Owen grumbles under his breath. "Has he approached anyone?"
I chew my lip for a moment unsure of what to tell him. Do I admit to the grandfather of my child I hooked up with the man without knowing?
"What happened Rilla?"
"I was at work, he was flirting, I flirted back. I didn't expect him to show up at school the next day but then my teacher said he's seen our broadcast on YouTube and now I'm not sure if he knew all along it was me? He was bothering me about it, during rehearsals I was mock interviewing him and I had up and switch sets because he kept trying things under the desk. He then accused me of being unprofessional and I went off on him after he barged into the dressing room I was in."
"You slept with him?" Owen says carefully.
"Umm?"
"Rilla, I only ask for a larger picture of the situation. You and Ken aren't together and while I think of you as an honorary member of this family. Your business is your business and I will never judge you for being human." Owen reminds me.
"Yes, I slept with him," I say quietly, still ashamed of myself for it. "Completely safe though about it," I add on for weak humour.
"All a parent can ask for really in such a case," Owen says with a touch of amusement.
"He doesn't work for the CBC," I say sighing.
'It doesn't matter who he works for, what he is doing is abhorrent," Owen reminds me. " He's in his late twenties, preying on young college girls, threatening their career before they even start it"
"So what do I do?"
"You do nothing right now, just tell the others to stay away from him. If he tries anything else, mention that you know me. Either way, I know people, once he leaves talk to the others, talk to older graduates if you can and write it all down. Send it to me and I will make sure it falls into someone's hands, while I do my own research into this as well. I'll send out some feeders and ask around some interns."
"I alluded to knowing you, I wasn't sure if I should mention exactly who you were though."
'That's fine, he'll figure it out soon enough, and don't worry about your career Rilla. You have enough allies that want you to succeed. Ken is always sending me clips and articles that you've written. You doing a wonderful job, whatever market you land in you will be an asset to them." Owen tells me.
"I doubt I'll land anywhere other than the local Charlottetown station, I really don't have many choices around."
"I think if you talk to Ken about it you might find that he's more than willing to relocate and already expecting to at some point in the near future," Owen tells me. "No pressure, of course, the Island is your home."
"Which I would leave in a heartbeat if I could, I always want to get off it," I say quietly.
"At the end of the day Rilla you have many options available to you. Talk to Ken, he will most likely tell you the same thing. He may leave out the whole sending me your work in school, but he will tell you the same as he told me that if you wanted to move he would most likely follow and find a way to make it work so Owen still gets to see him as well."
I pick up my little Owen from Ken's office where I knock politely on the door.
"You're early," Ken says looking at the clock and I frown not realizing. "We were just going to head for lunch?"
"Sorry, I didn't realize the time, I got out of classes earlier than I realized I guess?" I tell him.
"Well, come along? The university has a decent salad bar. I'll buy lunch as we can have a nice little family lunch?" Ken says grabbing Owen's coat. "If you want anyway?"
My mind goes to what his father told me not 20 minutes ago.
"Sure that sounds good," I nod my head.
I feel a little self-conscious but Owen seems to know the cafeteria well as the lunch ladies know the drill when she comes up to the area which holds all the drinks.
"Strawberry milk, please," She says sweetly as she can.
"So that is where she got her strawberry milk addiction?" I look at Ken who grins sheepishly.
"We make half strength for her don't worry," the woman says. "You have a very polite daughter though," she adds on.
"Thank you," I say blushing. I make myself a plate and a plate for her of cold pasta that Ken said was safe for her to eat, while Ken browses the sandwiches for himself.
We take our lunch and find an empty table. Owen waves to everyone who passes by, and there are a few double takes and stares when it comes to me and when she calls out mommy to me.
"How is school going?" Ken asks breaking the silence.
"Good I guess?" I say unsure of everything at the moment. "Beginning of the semester, just putting those business English classes to work with Resume writing and all that. A lot of emphasis on how to find a job?" I say as nonchalantly as possible. I just want to forget, to put this morning behind me until I can process it better? To talk to Beth about it all?
"Usually how the last semester goes," Ken agrees. "It's always a little scary how fast things can go and that soon you'll be looking for jobs and not going to school. If you are lucky you will graduate with a job."
"Well, I double I'll end up anywhere crazy. Who knows, maybe the local tribune needs a web media reporter, or Miranda's father needs someone new on his show?" I joke lightly.
"I'm sure anyone would love to have you," Ken tells looking pensive for a moment. "I mean if you want to look for things in Halifax or further out of the Maritimes we can make things work?" He tells me what his father already told me.
"I can always look out West, I know you said you miss Victoria. Maybe I can make things work so that you can talk to her about the possibility of being together?" I offer him quietly.
"While it's a very kind offer, Vicky and I, well we have said our goodbyes and made our choices," Ken says looking away to Owen who was happily eating her pasta. "I have everything I want around me where it is at the moment. To dig up the past now between her and me, it wouldn't make sense?"
I nod my head slowly. Such a thought for a response, but that was Ken for you.
"What about Tristan though?" He asks the million-dollar question.
"He can do whatever he wishes," I say simply shrugging. If that didn't spell things out to him, then, well, he needed to understand women better.
Ken merely nods his head, as things apparently click in his brain.
"Well, I hate to run but I have to pick up some groceries for my mom," I say looking at my phone as I toss my napkin on my plate.
"Of course," Ken says nodding his head. "I have class anyway, Elowen love, you have sauce all over your face," He says shaking his head, I pull out a package of wet wipes from my purse and pass it to him.
He walks us back to the history wing, which was close to where I was parked. He hugs Owen and hands me her bag.
"See you tomorrow then?" I tell him.
"Of course," Ken says giving me a brief one-armed hug goodbye. For a brief moment, I feel him ever so awkwardly go in and kiss my cheek before he realizes who I am. "Sorry, a force of habit," he says gruffly looking down at the sidewalk.
"It's okay," I say with a shrug. "Come on Owen, time to go," I tell her holding out my hand so we could walk to the car.
I watch her as she waves to Ken as we walk away, and I wave awkwardly back as well at her insistence.
She climbs into her seat when I open the door and lets me buckle her in.
"Mommy buckles up," she tells me as I get in the car and sit for a second.
"Of course sweetie," I say smiling as I make a great effort to show her that I was fully buckled in. "Don't you touch yours now," I remind her? "I have to stop by the grocery store, are you going to be good for mommy?
"I try," she says nodding her head.
"You try? I suppose that is all I can ask you?" I say shaking my head.
I drive to the small market unbuckling her and hauling her up into the seat of the cart, buckling her in.
I grab the list mom had given me and make my way through the aisles. I look up from the list only to see my father apparently shopping from the same list.
"Did mom really not trust one of us to go shopping?" I ask him.
"Apparently," Dad laughs holding his basket. "What have you got yet, maybe we can tag team this?" He asks peering into my cart to find some of the things he hasn't gotten yet.
"Well, I need a few things as well, but sure," I tell him as I grab some of Owen's snacks from the shelf as Dad put the basket in the cart. We walk down the aisles and I grab what I wanted to buy for myself. Tossing in tampons and toothpaste for Owen in the cart when we get to the toiletry aisle.
"What happens if I never can move out?" I ask my father. "I mean there is no way I can be living here at 30 years old with a teenager in your basement of all places."
"Well, it is safe to say that if you are still living here when you are thirty and Owen is 13 that we will be asking for some sort of contributions to living expenses." Dad chuckles. "Though it's not that bad of thought, it might be too quiet around here when everyone decides to leave. I know Shirley and Wynnie are looking at places when he's graduated. If you left as well, it is rather lonely?"
"I just can't," I say shaking my head at him.
"And almost all my friends have places outside of their childhood home," I tell him. "Living at home during school to save money is fine and dandy if you're a regular student. Me? It just looks sad?"
"You will figure it out stop worrying too much, you're still in school," Dad tells me. "Isn't that right Munchkin, Mommy worries too much?"
"Mommy bruise," she says pointing to the wear my shirt fell off my shoulder, exposing my collar bone a bit and the evidence of what came from a man's stubble and overly enthusiastic kissing.
I pull at my shirt, blushing to ignore my Father who was trying not to ask while trying to look busy choosing a mouthwash, though clearly wanted to say something. Because the elephant in the room was that Tristan never had a beard, Tristan couldn't grow a beard even if he tried. He joked about it Dad once on a rare occasion.
Which meant Dad knew I wasn't with the girls last night, despite that being my own business and not anyone else's, it was still embarrassing as hell! Though not as embarrassing when Dad drops in some tube of cortisone cream in the cart with a whistle.
"Helps with the rash." He says simply and I go bright red.
Hope everyone is well this week, thank you for all the comments as of late! Hope everyone has a good day, I am off to visit museums and have afternoon tea with friends!
Tina