My Holiday House Guest

The day before
Thanksgiving I sat at my kitchen table surrounded by various types of food in
all different stages of preparation. I peeled onions for the stuffing and of
course, no matter how often I rinsed them off, my eyes continued watering.

Although I
looked like I’d been crying, I was happy and looking forward to this holiday.
My family had shrunk considerably in the past few years with the passing of my
Grandmother and my cousins’ moving away. All that’s left of my family here in
Arizona are my sister, Barbara and my son, Evan, whose arrival I was happily
anticipating. But I didn’t look forward to the unwanted laundry he’d be
bringing home from his freshman year at the University Of Arkansas.

I anticipated Evan’s
arrival home from college anxiously. It was the longest amount of time we’ve
ever been apart. I was so proud of him being the first in our family to attend
college, and wanted to make it a great Thanksgiving for him.

Since our family
is so small, I told him it would be okay to bring home a classmate who wouldn’t
be going home for the holiday. We have plenty to share, and I don’t think
anybody should spend the holiday alone.

He said, “Cool
Ma,” and left it at that. I knew he was bringing someone home, but I had no idea
who.

A car pulled up
into the driveway with the radio blasting.
My baby’s home.
I heard car
doors slam shut, and suddenly hoped my son’s friend was not a girl. Lord knows
I wasn’t ready for that yet. A freshman needs to concentrate on schoolwork.

“Hey Mom, I’m
home!” I heard my son yell from the living room.

“Evan, I’m in
the kitchen!” I called back. I couldn’t wait to see my only child.

Evan burst
through the kitchen door and ran straight for me with open arms. We hugged each
other tight. “Welcome home, baby,” I said almost unable to breathe. My son had
grown stronger since our last hug.

“Hey Mom, it’s
really good to see you. Something smells gooood,” he said, standing in front of
the stove. “What’s in the pots?” He picked up a lid, and I lightly patted his
hand.

“No peaking
unless you plan to help. That’s for tonight…”

The kitchen door
swung open again. I turned around and there was a gorgeous hunk standing in the
middle of my small kitchen. He was about six feet tall and muscular, with a
smooth, caramel complexion. He wore jeans and a black tee shirt, which
showcased his chiseled physique. He was extremely handsome, but I saw no signs
of pretentiousness, instead his face was warm and welcoming. His appearance
took me totally off guard. Our eyes met, and I felt an instant connection. Or
perhaps I wanted an instant connection with him, of the physical kind. What
woman wouldn’t with this man?

“Hi, I’m Ravon
Taylor, Evan’s mother,” I managed to eek out.

“Pleased to meet
you, Ms. Taylor. I’m Douglas Jenkins. Evan’s told me so much about you,” he
said. He took my hand that I hadn’t remembered extending, held it, and gave it
a firm shake. His hand was large and warm, and I thought,
He’s so hot
.
But he’s got to be my son’s age. Have I lost my mind? If I had lost it, it
wouldn’t be so bad trying to find it with him holding me. Not bad at all.

“Please call me
Ravon. You’re a college student, too?” I asked.

“Yes, I’m a
graduate student and the Area Coordinator of Hansen Hall, Evan’s dorm. I
oversee the Resident Assistant’s and manage the building. It’s helping to pay
for grad school.”

Douglas
pulled the chair out and sat. “Thank you so much for inviting me to your home
for the holiday. This is very kind of you. I couldn’t really make the trip back
home to Pennsylvania, and my family is scattered all over the country.”

“Oh, don’t
mention it. I’m just glad you’re not a girl…” We looked at each other and broke
out laughing.

“So am I,” he
said.

“That didn’t
come out right,” I said.

“Mom, I wouldn’t
just spring a girlfriend on you like that,” Evan said.

“Well, I’m glad
you didn’t. You need to keep your mind on your studies. And I’m glad you’re
here, Douglas.” I felt coy and giddy like a schoolgirl with a crush on the
football quarterback, and Douglas would make a fine quarterback.  Then I caught
the look on my son’s face, and knew I had to reel it in. He rolled his eyes and
winced with embarrassment. Evan wasn’t used to seeing me flirt with men,
especially one of his friends. I needed to come back down to earth.  He went to
his room leaving Douglas and I alone.

“Well thank you,
Miss… I mean Ravon.  Can I help you do anything?  I’d like to help with
dinner,” Douglas said.

“Oh thanks, but
you don’t have to, you’re our guest.”

“No, I insist on
helping.  It’s a Thanksgiving dinner, so I know there’s plenty to do.”

“Okay then, do
you mind preparing the string beans?”

“No problem, I
used to help my mom do this. Back then if we didn’t help, we didn’t eat.  The
beans will be stingless after I’m finished with them.”

We laughed as I
put the bag of fresh string beans in front of him with a pot.  I stood across
from him at the table and chopped celery and onions for the stuffing.  We
worked quietly for awhile.  I glanced up occasionally and watched him
meticulously pulling strings from the beans.  I thought,
What a catch. Too
bad I’m not ten or more years younger.
  Once when I took a break from my
chopping to steal a quick glance at him, I looked up and found him staring at
me.  We held the eye contact for a bit longer than what was comfortable and
then both of us laughed.

“I caught you,”
he said, smiling.

“Caught me doing
what?”

“Caught you
checking me out,” he said, laughing while pretending to squirm in his seat.

“Oh, right, and
how would you know that I’m checking you out if you weren’t checking me out?” 

“Truce, my
lady.  But in stating my case, let me say that any other guy in my place,
sitting across from you, such a beautiful woman, would be checking you out. 
And that’s the truth.”

I felt my
body heating up at the hint of having a flirtatious exchange with Douglas. It
was both unexpected and exciting. I could feel my pulse quicken.  I better be
careful with this knife in my hand, and pay attention to what I’m doing with
these vegetables. Right on cue, Evan walked into the kitchen and went straight
to the refrigerator without even looking at us.  He grabbed a can of soda and
an apple.

“Hey, do you
want to hang out with us in here?” I asked.

“If you don’t
mind I’d really like to call James and Kevin. They’re probably home for the
holiday, too.  Maybe I’ll catch up with them later.”  And he was off to his
room to call his friends he hadn’t seen in months.  I know he’d missed them. 
So that left Douglas and me alone…again.  I must admit I was glad as well as a
bit apprehensive.  I enjoyed talking with him, but felt a little off balance
because I knew I was attracted to him, but felt I shouldn’t be. 

Douglas and I
talked while he cleaned and chopped more vegetables and I prepared pies. 

“So, tell me,
Ravon, what do you like to do when you’re not up to your elbows in sweet
potatoes and apples?  What do you like to do?”

I shifted in
my chair and felt his eyes on me as I spoke, which I liked very much.  “It’s
probably going to sound really simple, but I love nothing more than to spend
time outdoors.  I love hiking and kayaking and camping out.”

“Really? So
do I.”

“In fact Evan
and I love camping so much, sometimes during the summer we take our sleeping
bags out and sleep under the stars on the backyard lawn.”

We talked
about the things we like to do, and found that we had quite a few things in
common. Along with hiking, kayaking and camping out, we also loved jazz music
and going to comedy clubs.

And he told
me more about himself.

“I’m half way
through with my master’s in psychology,” he said.  “I’m planning on becoming a
child psychologist.”

“That sounds
great.  What made you choose that field?”

“I’ve always
been fascinated by how the mind works, why people do what they do, and what
makes them tick.  I also come from a big family and love working with kids. 
And how about you? What do you do?”

“Oh, I work in a
store, nothing exciting.  In fact baking is more fun than what I do.  I’d much
rather hear about your plans and what your life. How do you like running the
dorm?  Now
that
must be some job.” I said, attempting to get the focus
off of me and my measly job in retail sales. I didn’t like it, but it paid the
bills.

“Oh it’s a hand
full.  There’s always something going on.  It’s a miracle I have time to
study.  But my resident assistants are awesome and can handle most of the daily
crisis without me constantly getting involved.  So it’s a really cool job.  I
couldn’t ask for a better dorm or staff.”

We continued
talking and joking while I stopped preparing the Thanksgiving feast to whip up
a little something for our dinner. The three of us ate together, and then Evan
went out to visit some of his friends.

While I started
to clean up, Douglas said, “I also do a little writing in my spare time. I
write freelance articles for travel and music magazines.  Oh, I have a great
idea.”  He got up from the table and went back to his room and returned with a
folder and opened it.

“When you get a
chance, I’d like your opinion on an article I’m writing for a new travel
magazine I’m targeting. It’s about bus tours through New England.”

“Sure,” I said.
“I’ll take a look at it.” I was taken back a bit and wasn’t expecting that. I
took the article and put it back in the folder. “I’ll put it in my room and
read it later,” I promised, gathering the pages. “I don’t want it to get messed
up out here.”

While I walked
quickly out the room with the folder in my hands, I yelled back, “Make yourself
at home.  Feel free to turn on the television or stereo while I clean the
kitchen.” 

When I returned
to the kitchen he was standing there next to the sink. “I’d rather help you, if
you don’t mind,” he said.

“You don’t have
to.  You’ve done so much already today.”

“Ravon, it’s a
pleasure to help.”

“Thanks, I
appreciate it. You can dry,” I said handing him a dishtowel.

I turned around
to face the sink and was shocked when I felt the unmistakable sting of a towel
hit my behind. I whisked around on my heels. Douglas laughed.

“I can’t believe
you just did that,” I said, patting my stinging rear end.

“I’m sorry.” He
laughed. “I couldn’t resist it.”

I quickly
grabbed a towel from the wall rack and twirled it in front of me.  “Well, you
do know what this means?” I said as I moved around the room facing him. “I have
to defend myself against all attacks.”

I snapped the
towel, playfully hitting the air on his right side. “You moved; that’s not
fair.”

“It’s fair,” he
protested and jumped to my left while striking my rear again. “Bull’s-eye! We
make up the rules as we go.”

“Bull’s-eye?” I
shirked. “Oh, you’re going to get it now.” I held both corners of my towel and
spun it, then released the back end flinging the tip. Just before my towel
reached its point of contact, my target jumped out of the way and snapped his
towel on my leg. We continued our dishtowel battle for a few more rounds, and I
finally landed some good hits.

Then out of the
blue Douglas faced me and stepped forward. He lifted his arms up and dropped
his towel around my back and pulled me closer. “What do you say, let’s call a
truce?”

“Okay, that was fun,”
I said, feeling his breath on my skin and the warmth of his body heat.

“Yes, it was.”
He leaned down and softly brushed my cheek with his lips moving towards my
lips.

I longed to kiss
him right there, but knew that I shouldn’t. The casual flirting had gone too
far. I knew I couldn’t have a relationship with a college graduate student.
What would he want with me? Especially if he knew the real me. I backed up. “Let’s
get back to the dishes. We really shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Why not? I’m
attracted to you, Ravon, and I can tell that you feel the same. So what’s
wrong?”

“Well for one
thing, I’m a bit older than you are.”

He sighed out
loud.

“You’re around
my son’s age,” I stressed.

“I’m a graduate
student, six years older than Evan. I’m 24, and you’re not old. You must’ve
been very young when you had Evan.”

“I’m 36. And
speaking of my son, you’re a friend of his. Did you see the way he rolled his
eyes at me earlier? I can tell the flirting is making him une%asy.”