Last weekend, I went to visit Jesse at college. Jesse is my husband's son from my husband's previous marriage. Unfortunately, Jesse's father and I are divorcing after seven years of marriage. It's very amicable, and it's almost like there's less stress with everyone recognizing that his father and I are splitting up.
Jesse's father is very independent, just like Jesse actually. In hindsight, it was only a matter of time, I guess. Jesse's father loves me, but he's bored easily. He didn't like a routine domestic home life, choosing instead to travel and be as socially active as he could. My job doesn't let me just pick-up and go, so there turned out to be more and more separation between us.
Jesse was fifteen when I married his father, making him twenty-two now. I was thirty-four when I married his father, so it seemed a little weird to have suddenly had a teeneage son, but we have always gotten along well. Jesse is still really close to his mom, and I would have never thought of myself as a replacement for her. It was more like we were as much friends as anything else, and I always tried to have it so that he could talk to me about anything when he needed to.
It was this closeness that prompted my going to see him last weekend. I was to help him get his new apartment settled, and he was getting over his recent break-up with his girlfriend. As soon as they had gotten back to classes, she'd let him know she'd started back to dating her high school sweetheart. He was pretty let down.
I talked and talked to him, trying to be supportive. I reminded him how he'd thought about wanting to be more independent and more carefree his senior year in college anyway. This was working out I told him. He should enjoy himself.
I made it a point to be supportive for his confidence, too. Jesse is ruggedly handsome like his dad. His dad is tall and athletic at six feet, and about 210 pounds. Jesse is actually 6'2", and probably 190 pounds, working-out regularly including swimming. With as much working-out as he did, he also watched what he ate, keeping his body fat well-contained.
The week before I came over to his college I sressed this to him in a phone call with him. "Jesse, just play the field. You're a good-looking guy. You're in good shape. Remember that any of those girls would be lucky to have you."
"Are you serious?" He chuckled in a way I hadn't heard alot from him.
"Yeah, sure I am." I reassured him. "You're a good-looking man. Remember that."
"Thanks, Anne." His voice sounded a little lower and relaxed, and I took this as appreciation.
Here is where I should mention that I should have been smarter. I've taken good care of myself, and I'm well aware that he probably really paid attention to what I said. I'm 5'5", and I'm about 120 pounds, being in good shape myself. I probably have been described by some as a sort of trophy wife, with my blonde hair and blue eyes. I have chosen to take it that Jesse listened to me, not just as his stepmom, but as a woman with good standards and experience about her.
Friday rolled around, and I drove to his college town for my visit. He was in a cool apartment, and we spent Friday afternoon and part of the evening arranging things and getting him settled. I met his roommate who was very polite, and they made sure I was comfortable and had what I needed in the small guest room that I was staying in.
Friday night I went with Jesse to a local bar where there was sports on television and good music from a deejay. We had drinks and laughed, and I was really relaxing and having a good time.
It felt somewhat like I was back in college myself, drinking and hanging-out.
Jesse was completely at ease with me, which I was glad about. It could have been a little less relaxed because of my getting divorced from his father, but none of that ever came up. I was glad for that. I liked not having to think about it or even talk about it.
After several beers, I noticed Jesse's demeanor suddenly change. He noticed people from school come in that put him on his guard. When I asked him about it, he let me know that the group included his ex.
"Hey," I turned his face to mine to make sure he listened. "Don't even worry about it. Don't let it ruin your night, you know?"
He gave me a half-grin. "Yeah, you're right. Who cares, right?"
"Right!" I smiled at him. Between the beers and the music, I must've been in some kind of mood, because it struck me how handsome he looked right then.
"Hey, do me a favor though," he asked.
"Yeah? What's that?"
"If they come over, you're Anne a friend from home, and not my stepmom. Okay?"
I couldn't help a big grin at him. "Sure, okay."
A great dance song started, and Jesse grabbed me by the hand. Leading me to the dance floor, he said to me, "C'mon Anne from home, let's have fun." I loved that attitude. We danced and laughed at our little front we were putting on.
He now seemed to make more contact with me than before, I realized. He took my hand a couple of times. He put a hand to my back now and then. It was clear to me he was wanting to have the ex see we were together. I didn't flinch one bit, completely at ease with his small gestures.
We had danced to a couple of songs already, when a slow song came on. Without really thinking about it, I made my way to leave the dance floor. Jesse grabbed my hand, and in a quick moment I found myself being pulled back to the dance floor.
Jesse was looking in the direction of his ex, as he pulled me to him. He probably didn't mean to, but he brought me up close to him to where we were pressed together at the front, as we started our swaying to the music. It must have startled him some, because he immediately looked down to my face once we were dancing and I hadn't moved away.
"Thanks for being such a good sport and all," he said to me genuinely. He was looking at me, and it struck me that he wasn't putting his attention back to the others. His eyes stayed fixed on mine. With the closeness of us and his gaze, I felt myself swoon a little, much to my surprise.
"Sure, Jesse." I said back. "No problem at all."