“Ellen. Wait.” I jumped up and ran to her office next to mine.
“I can’t believe what I just saw, Edward. And you of all people.”
“Let me explain, Ellen. I think I can anyway….I’m not too sure….” My voice trailed off as I really considered how I would explain what just happened and even if I could.
“Ok, it’s getting late. I’m leaving now. Stop by the house on your way home and we’ll talk then and see if we can make some sense out of this.” She said.
I returned to my office and straightened up my desk, picking up papers and books that had been knocked to the floor during our passionate lovemaking session.
“Damn, what is wrong with me?” I admonished myself. “Here I am in my mid-fifties banging for the second time a teen-ager like I was one myself. And she says she’s carrying my child!!”
Then the reality hit me. “Oh my God! She’s pregnant with my child!” The words kept screaming in my head. “Oh my God! Pregnant! Teen-age girl! My child.” The room began to spin and I felt nauseous. I sat down and put my head on my desk. “Oh my God…..” The spinning stopped and I lifted my head to look directly at the picture of my wife and daughters. “Oh my God….how am I going to tell Lauren this one?”
I grabbed my brief case and papers and headed out the door. While walking to my truck I thought, “OK, I’ll go over to Ellen’s and ask her…maybe she can give me some advice, some guidance on what to do.” I had known Ellen long before I had even started teaching. In fact, she was the one that had given the recommendation that landed me the job. She and I had been great friends for several years, and we had spent many hours talking, laughing and I spent more hours consoling her during the rough times she had while her divorce was in process. Ellen was a fun person and I always enjoyed her company and respected her opinion. Her house was on the way home from school and both Lauren and I had been there many times. Lauren used to kid me how Ellen was flirting with me and wanted to take the relationship a little further, but as far as I was concerned we were only friends.
I arrived at Ellen’s house only a few minutes after she did.
“Hi, come on in,” she said. “Get a beer out of the fridge and make yourself at home. I just want to get out of these heels and stockings.”
I went to the kitchen and grabbed a beer and then sat down in the living room draining the bottle. Ellen came out with a bottle of rum. “I think we might need something a little stronger than beer for what we are about to discuss,” she said. “How about I mix up some Margaritas?”
I agreed because I knew I needed something strong to settle me down in order to even think about discussing what had happened. We went into the kitchen and made small talk while Ellen got out the blender and mix and ice and began making the drinks.
“Ok, the first one’s the toughest,” she said and handed me my drink. I threw it down in one gulp. “Hey, you are upset,” she said and poured another drink. It disappeared as quickly as the first.
“Ok, let’s slow down here,” she told me as she poured a third drink. This time I took my time drinking it, but it was gone in less than three minutes. “Shall I just hand you the full pitcher?” she asked, laughing.
“No. No. I’m feeling calmer,” I said. And indeed I was feeling a little calmer, and a little warmer. “Ready to talk?” I asked.
“Sure. Go sit on the sofa and I’ll bring the pitcher into the living room.”
I sat down on the sofa. Ellen followed behind me and placed the pitcher of Margaritas on the coffee table. She leaned over causing her shirt to open up some and I couldn’t help but glance at her breasts. She was about fifteen years younger than I was in great shape from years of playing racquetball. We had played many games of racquetball with sometimes her winning, sometimes me winning, but having a fun time each game.
“Like what you see?” she teased me.
