"Sorry, sorry we're late!" James Cavell slammed shut his door and ran around the car to open the trunk. Mark hopped out of the passenger seat and just walked over to the school van. James started to get their weekend bags out of the trunk alone. He rolled his eyes--he promised Mark that he wouldn't embarrass him, so he left him be when he started talking to his friend.
"Can I help?" Marlowe didn't wait for his approval. The teacher reached into his car and picked up James' backpack.
"I was going to get that," James admonished. He hefted Mark's bag. He closed the gate of the hatchback.
Marlowe held the backpack with two arms by one strap. Her arms crossed in front of her awkwardly. She huffed. "Sorry, we just--," Marlowe's nose scrunched, "I'm sorry, we just need to get on the road. I'm worried about being late."
"Yeah, I hear ya," James clicked his tongue. The kids were all finding where they wanted to sit on the bus. He put Mark's bag on the ground. "Here, let me get that," he said as he put his hand on her waist to keep her out of the way of the opening door for storage.
"Oh, um, thank you!" Marlowe noticed the smell of gasoline on him. She smelled fresh of vanilla and citrus. Her face turned bright pink. She looked down at James' hand on her side. His arms were thick and hairy. She gently tossed his bag into storage. It thunked as it fell in.
James let go of her and put his son's bag in beside his before shutting the storage. "Presuming you're Miss Beausoleil?" He smiled. Marlowe nodded. He was over six foot with a close-trimmed dark brown beard and short hair beneath a black baseball cap. His shoulders were wide, and it was clear he worked with his hands and worked out. Chest hair poked out from his blue gingham button-down. His eyes were bluer than the sky.
"You can just call me Marlowe," she clarified. She was a little tall for a woman, maybe five-seven. Mark and his wife made James aware of the rumors about her--that she was a trans woman. She was pretty, that's what impressed on him. She had chestnut brown hair in a messy bun with a blunt bang. While she didn't have the biggest bust, her hips and ass were amazing. Her curves told him everything he needed to know. Her cheeks were dotted with freckles. It was still her first year at the school as a full teacher since getting her Master's. She was dressed unmistakably like a teacher with a fitted black cardigan, black jeans that emphasized her curves, and a dusty pink princess vest. The sneakers drew it together.
"Sorry didn't meet ya on parent-teacher night since, ya know, the wife usually takes care of these things," James smiled. He extended his hand for a shake and Marlowe put her hand in his. "I'm James."
"Thank you for coming to do this for the kids, James," Marlowe smiled and put her hand in James'. For a moment, she forgot that they had to get into the van and drive north.
"Oh, I'm happy to. It's great Mark's doing this more academic stuff. I just never applied my brains that way," He let go of her hand. He gestured to usher her forward, "Wanna let him know I support him before college, all that parent stuff." He missed how softer her hand was. "I'm sure you'll know soon enough."
Marlowe walked into the van and sat in the driver's seat. "I've got my students," she replied. Her brown eyes betrayed a deeper melancholy. She patted her knees, then clapped her hands and told James to take a seat.
"Alright folks," Marlowe called back into the van, "We'll be in Philly in just a couple hours then we'll check into the hotel and get everyone settled in for the night!"
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James looked up at the ceiling from his hotel bed. He stayed fully dressed. Before lying down, he emptied his pockets and put his cell phone, wallet, and wedding ring on the end table next to his desk. He let his wife know when they got there. Mark wanted to room with his friends instead of his dad, which Marlowe insisted was what she needed anyway. He had the room to himself. It was rare to be alone too long at home.
Marlowe was on his mind. He tried to insist his brain needed to leave the thought behind, but it refused. His wife was dozens of miles away. He lay in an empty bed. There was no harm in looking. He tried instead to think of her flaws and if he could pick apart something about her to make the rumors true in a way that would break her sexiness, but he just thought about her soft lips and pillowy ass.
James needed a drink. Anything to get out of his room.
Knock, Knock, Knock!
James sat up immediately and walked to the door. He peered through the peephole and saw Marlowe on the other side. "Hey, James? It's Marlowe."
He opened the door and then blocked it open. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah, of course. Kids are in their rooms," Marlowe looked down at the door frame. Some of the hair meant for her bun fell loose. It tickled her cheek so she brushed it behind her ear. "I just figured I should check in with you." She crossed an arm over her belly and under her breasts, hiking them up ever so slightly, to grab her other arm.
Marlowe took a half-step back. "Sorry, this is my first time doing one of these solo. I just want everything to go well, so I thought I should check on everyone since the kids should be down and," she sighed, "yeah."
"You don't need to explain it," James put his broad hand up. Marlowe scanned the callouses and grains in his fingers. She pulled in her shoulders and lowered her posture. He looked down at her.
"Well, since the kids are down," his tone changed, "Why don't you join me for a drink? You can tell me how Mark's doing in history and I dunno, maybe relax?" He had a friendly smile.
Time smeared from that moment for them. James led Marlowe down to the hotel bar. He got a beer. She got a glass of wine. He failed to distract himself from the thought of her, from looking. But hearing about her first year at the school was nice. She asked him about his business. He knew she knew nothing about cars or anything mechanical. Her car had been acting up, but it was nearing two decades old and was a hand-me-down His son was doing well in her history class and well-behaved. One drink became two. Two became three. Three became more.
Marlowe relaxed. She'd taken off her cardigan, exposing her shoulders. James noticed the fringe of her lace bra popping up by her pits. "I'm still getting used to being on this side of things, ya know?" She took a sip of her wine.
"This is your first year at John Brown, right?" He raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah, I was a student-teacher up here, actually, at Central, but then I moved down to Baltimore and found the job there."
"You've gotta be, what, twenty-eight?"
"Twenty-seven, but close."
James huffed and laughed into his glass, causing it to fog. "Jesus." He had two decades on her. "And you think your students are the only kids you're gonna have?"
"I mean, yeah. I don't get to make that choice," she clarified. She looked at him with a forced, sad smile.
"Any guy would be lucky to make you a mom, you're pretty and smart." James agonized over his voice. He didn't want to sound creepy.
