The Education of Sebastian & the Education of Caroline (28 page)

“Well, now you know where your boys get their wild streak from,” said Shirley with a wink.

“Yes, well … and who would you say Chester takes after?”

“His father!” asserted Shirley. Then she sighed. “I don’t know who Sebastian takes after—luckily the poor boy isn’t like either of his parents. I sometimes wonder if Donald is really his father.”

“Shirley!” said Donna, looking shocked.

“Well, you’ve said yourself he doesn’t take after either of them—he certainly doesn’t
look
like either of them. Then there’s Estelle’s
reputation.
And it would explain why they’re always so ghastly toward him.”

“Well,” said Donna, quietly, “I don’t think we should speculate on that. Not without facts.”

Shirley shrugged and for a moment there was an awkward silence in the car.

“You’re very quiet, Caroline. Are you okay?” asked Donna, her eyes inquiring.

“Just thinking about the week ahead,” I replied, my words deliberately bland.

The week. The month. The rest of my life.

In truth, I’d been fascinated to hear Shirley’s speculation about Sebastian’s heritage. I wondered if there was any shred of truth in it, or perhaps it was just the useless, baseless gossip that percolated through so many military facilities.

With a painful jolt I reminded myself that in all reality, it wasn’t any of my business; Sebastian wasn’t any of my business. But I couldn’t resist torturing myself a little more.

“What happened to Sebastian this evening?” I said, innocently, while nearly choking on my words. “They’d all vanished by the time I came back.”

“I think he left with Brenda,” said Shirley, confirming the thoughts that tormented me.

“Oh, I don’t know,” disagreed Donna. “He was talking to Chester for a while, wasn’t he? Or was it before that girl arrived? I thought she was rather … underdressed.”

I definitely agreed with that point of view. Tramp.

Shirley smiled. “All the young girls dress like that, Donna. And, frankly, if she wanted to catch Sebastian’s attention, which she obviously did, she certainly went about it the right way!” She paused. “Although, to be fair, I was a little surprised; she’d always seemed rather sweet when they were dating, hardly the siren of today’s little show and tell. But who knows: they’re probably off having mad, passionate sex behind the pier.”

I could have quite cheerfully stuck Shirley’s head in the passenger door and slammed it several times. It wasn’t that she was saying anything I hadn’t been thinking, but to hear it confirmed by a third party was a new source of humiliation and hurt.

“I should hope not!” said Donna, severely.

“Oh, come on, Donna. You were young once. You’ve got two sons: you know what teenage boys are like. They think about sex every other second—or more often than that. You saw their faces when Brenda arrived—and what she practically wasn’t wearing. I wouldn’t be surprised if every dick within a hundred yards leapt to attention and saluted when she fiddled with her bikini strap. Which of them can say no when it’s offered up on a plate like that? I mean, I’ve tried to talk to Ches about waiting until he’s in love and respect for women and all that, but I’m definitely swimming against the tide there—and I’m probably too late anyway. Mostly I hope he’s being safe: I don’t relish the thought of being a grandmother just yet.”

Donna shook her head but it was clear she didn’t agree with Shirley’s more liberal views. “I think I’d be a nervous wreck if I’d had daughters instead of sons. And their father would have kept them locked up until they’d graduated college … or possibly longer.”

Just then my phone beeped. I decided to ignore it. Donna glanced at me, a quizzical expression on her face.

“It’s probably David making sure I’ve done the dry-cleaning,” I said, trying and failing to keep the bitterness out of my voice.

She smiled.

“Yes, Johan said something about a formal dinner at the mess tomorrow. I don’t think he was very keen, having been away for two nights. But who expects the military to be sympathetic to us poor wives?”

Shirley nodded in agreement and the topic moved on to other wives and partners who had dropped by to say hello during the course of the afternoon.

“I think Bill enjoyed himself today,” said Shirley. “I haven’t seen him like that since before he and Denise got divorced.”

“How long have he and Mitch been friends?”

“Oh, ever since we came to San Diego: so it must be at least four years—we wanted Ches to have some consistency through high school.”

I leaned back in my seat as the conversation continued, letting the tiredness wash over me. I was almost asleep by the time Donna pulled up outside my house.

“Did David mention that I was picking them both up at the airport?” she said.

“Oh, I probably should have read David’s text,” I said, guiltily.

“Never mind,” she said, smiling at me. “You’ve got enough on your mind remembering the dry-cleaning.”

I laughed, although I knew the tone was a little off.

“And I have to get into town. Well, thanks for a lovely day, both of you. And thanks for the ride—and for looking after me.”

I gave Donna a quick hug and blew a kiss to Shirley.

“Our pleasure, Caroline,” said Donna.

“We must have another coffee soon,” agreed Shirley. “Maybe at the country club?”

I had no intention of ever going near the place again but I smiled wanly. I waved them goodbye and watched them drive out of sight. They really had been very kind to me. I’d be sorry to leave them behind.

Tiredly, I got into my own car and headed to the dry-cleaners. My phone beeped for a second time but I ignored it.

David’s uniform was ready, the woman at the dry-cleaners proudly informing me that it was their patriotic duty to give precedence to the military. I smiled thinly and thanked her, tossing the plastic-wrapped uniform into the trunk. I was so tired I was about ready to fall asleep at the wheel.

I parked as close to
City Beat
as I could and jogged the block and a half to the offices.

The reception was in darkness and the door was locked. I rang the buzzer for the intercom and was just considering the wisdom of dropping the films into the mailbox when I saw Carl striding toward the door.

“Carolina, hi! Good to see you! You look well—you’ve got some color on your beach day.”

I realized too late that appearing in a shorts and a skimpy t-shirt wasn’t the most professional attire.

“Oh, yes,” I agreed awkwardly. “It was a lovely day—everyone enjoyed themselves.”

“Did your husband enjoy it?”

His question threw me off balance.

“Um, well, no. He’s away at a medical symposium at the moment.”

“Oh, that’s a pity,” said Carl, although if his expression was anything to go by, that was the opposite of what he really thought. “Well, perhaps you’d like to join me for a quick drink? I was just about finished here anyway.”

I’d definitely given him the wrong impression wearing my beach shorts
.

“That’s kind, Carl,” I replied quickly, “but actually I have to go pick him up at the airport now.”

He looked disappointed.

“Are you sure you haven’t got time for one quick drink?”

“Sorry. I really have to go.”

“Okay, well … I guess I’ll see you.”

“Sure. Have a good evening. I’ll be interested to see how the photographs turn out.”

“Drop by any time.”

I waved hurriedly and made my escape. My beat up old Ford made a good stand-in for a sanctuary.

I decided I’d better check my phone to see what commands from on high David had sent this time.

But the texts weren’t from David, they were from Sebastian. My heart shuddered, an intense mixture of pain and pleasure. With trembling hands I opened my phone. To my surprise, there were three texts, each one more urgent than the last.

* Where are you? *

* I need to talk to you. Where are you? *

And the last one.

* I’m going to your house NOW *

I gasped and, although I tried to beat it back, hope flared suddenly and brilliantly. It was so confusing—I was still burning with anger and jealousy.
He’d left me at the picnic for that girl.

I glanced at my watch—it was just after 9
pm
. Donna would be at the airport by now. Another 30 minutes and David would be walking through our front door. It would take me more than 20 minutes to drive home. I did the math.

Fuck.

By now my hands were shaking so badly it took me three attempts to scroll through to find Sebastian’s number on my cell.

The phone rang, and rang, and rang. And then it switched to voicemail.

I hung up and tried again. This time it went immediately to voicemail. This time I left a message.

“Sebastian, do not, repeat DO NOT go to my house. I’m downtown and David will be home any minute. Please, please don’t go.”

I had no idea if he’d get the message or, if he did, whether he’d do as I asked. And then I started to feel angry—really angry.
He
was the one who’d gone off with his ex-girlfriend;
he
was the one who was threatening to go to my home just as David was due back.

Maybe my anger was unreasonable but it didn’t feel like it, and right there and then, I needed it.

I drove home as fast as I dared. I didn’t have those get-out-of-jail-free military plates on my car, and I couldn’t risk getting stopped for speeding now.

I screeched onto the driveway, relieved that the house was dark and silent. I’d beaten David home, at the very least.

I nearly leapt out of my skin when I heard Sebastian’s voice in the darkness.

“Where were you?”

“Sebastian!” I hissed. “You can’t be here! David will be home any second!”

“I’m not going anywhere until you
talk
to me.”

His voice was tight with anger.

Well, fuck him! I was pretty damned angry, too!

I shoved the key in the lock and pushed the front door open.

“Get in!” I snarled. “Before someone sees you!”

He pushed past me and I slammed the door shut behind him.

“You can’t be here!” I repeated.

He didn’t answer but suddenly grabbed my waist and pulled me toward him. Without warning, he kissed me fiercely, forcing his lips against mine.

My body started to respond, but anger and fear had the upper hand. I shoved him hard in the chest. He let go, his hands dropping to his side, his face shocked.

“Caro!”

“I mean it, Sebastian. I want you to go. Now!”

His voice turned pleading, the words tripping over themselves.

“I need to talk to you, Caro. You just disappeared. I didn’t know where you were. I know how it must have looked … with Brenda … but it was
nothing
. I promise. She was upset and I couldn’t ignore her, could I?”

Yes, you could!
I wanted to yell at him.

“Why did you just go? Why didn’t you talk to me? You could have called me! Please! I love you!”

I didn’t know what to believe. I did know what I’d
seen
.

Blue-white car headlights suddenly flooded the hallway and I heard the sound of Donna’s station wagon pulling up outside.

“For the love of God, Sebastian! Just go!”

“When will I see you? Caro, please!”

“I don’t know. Just go. Just get out!” I yelled.

He gave me one, last, tortured look, then turned and ran into the kitchen. I heard him fumbling with the lock on the back door as I moved swiftly through the house turning on lights.

My heart was hammering so loudly in my chest that I barely heard the sharp rap on the front door.

Breathless, I snatched it open.

“You
are
in then, Caroline. I was beginning to wonder.”

His tone was brusque. It was just what I needed to hear—and I snapped out of my funk.

“I haven’t been in long—I had to drop off some films I took at the fun day to
City Beat
. How was your flight? Can I get you a coffee?”

“You know I can’t drink caffeine at this time of night, Caroline.”

“A glass of wine, then?”

“I don’t need to drink every day—not like you.”

I blinked. This was a new and interesting development. Now I was an alcoholic? I almost laughed. And then I had an epiphany: I wasn’t scared of him anymore.

“Well, I’m glad to see the flight didn’t affect your good mood, David. I’m going to have a glass of wine. Let me know if I can get you anything.”

I left him gaping in our hallway.

Eventually I heard him stomp up the stairs with his bags. My adrenaline rush over, I felt a little shaky. I hadn’t eaten much at the picnic but now I was ravenous.