The Education of Sebastian & the Education of Caroline (91 page)

They continued to be quite threatening for a while, but I played the journalism card, and then the refugee card on Sofia’s behalf. Sebastian threw in the vet card as well as the work he’d done in the local refugee community, and in the end, they had to admit that they didn’t have any better alternatives to offer her. A fact that we already knew.

Her formal adoption would take much longer, but to us that was merely a thin strip of red-tape.

Marco loved his new ready-made sister and she seemed happy, as well, although there were times when she was too quiet and we wondered what heavy thoughts and memories troubled her.

She had night terrors sometimes, but that was something we understood, having lived through Sebastian’s PTSD as well as my own grim, clouded souvenirs of war.

We’d decided that it was important for Sofia to know as much about her own culture as possible, so we spent even more time with Atash and his extensive family. Not only that, but Sebastian spoke to her in Pashto, so she wouldn’t lose her language. I spoke to her in English, and she seemed to grasp that distinction very easily.

Soon, she was chattering away in both languages. Marco took it all in his stride, but surprised us one day by calling Sebastian ‘baba’—the Pashto version of ‘daddy’. It seemed likely that we’d
have two bi-lingual children on our hands.

Sofia had been with us for three months and I couldn’t have been happier, but then something else happened that sent my well ordered world spinning on a different axis. Again.

And I blamed Sebastian.

That man had always been trouble. God, I loved that about him. One of the many things.

Marco and Sofia were safely corralled, playing in the backyard. Sebastian was in the living room doing sit-ups, a sight that very nearly distracted me from what I had to say.

I sat down on the edge of the couch, more than a little anxious.

He grinned at me as he caught me checking out his abs. Alright, I was counting them—and possibly imaging running my tongue over them.

He winked and did another ten crunches before I finally got up the nerve to speak.

“Sebastian, we need to talk about your … about your disability money.”

He stopped immediately and scowled.

The money he’d been given for his injuries had been gathering dust in a bank account, untouched for three years.

“For fuck’s sake, Caro! You know I don’t want anything to do with that shit. It feels … I just can’t.”

“I know, but we’re going to need it. Now we have Sofia.”

He sighed.

“They’re just kids, Caro. They can share a room for a few years.”

“Yes, but I think we’ll need somewhere bigger than the bungalow before that.”

“You need an office, baby. I know. Maybe I could build something in the yard and…”

“No, Sebastian. We’ll need another bedroom.”

His eyebrows drew together in a frown. “Why? What did you do?”

I took his hands in mine and smiled at him. “It’s more what
you
did.” Nope, the penny wasn’t dropping. He continued to look at me blankly; I was going to have to spell it out. “I’m pregnant.”

His eyes widened. “Holy fuck!”

“Quite. And if I remember correctly, that’s what I said at the time.”

He gave a happy shout of laughter and picked me up in his arms, whirling me around. Then he put me down as carefully as if he were handling glass.

“Fuck me, you’re amazing!”

“You’re pretty amazing yourself, Sebastian. You’re so great with Marco and Sofia. You think you can handle another one?” I laughed a little anxiously. “Three kids under the age of five.”

“Yeah, that’s really something.”

He shook his head disbelievingly. “Everything’s changing so fast.”

My heart clenched painfully.

“Too fast?”

“Fuck, no! It’s just more … more than I ever dared dream of. You, Marco, and then Sofia. Now this. It’s so fucking amazing, it scares me. I feel like I don’t deserve to be such a lucky bastard.”

That was so typical of him, and I was going to spend the rest of my life proving that he deserved every good thing that happened to him—to us.

“You’re everything I ever wanted, Sebastian. Thank you for giving me this wonderful life.”

His eyes became glassy, and his arms tightened around me.

“I love you, Caro.”

“And I love you, Sebastian. Sempre e per sempre.”

It was time to begin the next chapter in our lives.

THE END

Thank you for reading Sebastian & Caroline’s story.

I hope you enjoyed the ride.

JHB

BONUS CHapters

First time

The first four chapters of
The Education of Sebastian
, told from Sebastian’s point of view

Long Time Living

Caroline has left San Diego. The story continues…

Twenty-One

Sebastian’s twenty-first birthday

The Best Man

Ches’s bachelor party and wedding

In Geneva

The first two chapters of
The Education of Caroline
, told from Sebastian’s point of view.

first time

I was bored out of my brain, idly wondering if Ches had any weed left from the weekend. Studying was so damn tedious. Yeah, I knew I needed to get good grades and that my AP courses were important, but I’d much rather have been at the beach—or with Caroline.

Caroline.

God, seeing her again—it was like a dream.

When dad casually mentioned that the Wilsons were moving back to San Diego, I thought I was going to freak out. So many times,
so many times
, I’d thought about her over the years: wondering what she was doing, where she was living. Remembering all the stuff we’d talked about when I was a kid. She used to just talk to me, I mean really
talk
to me. And she was beautiful, so goddamn beautiful. At least, she was in my memory. I’d never had a picture of her, and I hadn’t seen her in nine years.

I was going crazy wanting to ask dad more questions: when would she (they) be coming back? Where would she (they) live?

Most of all I wondered: would she remember me?

I’d had a thing for brunettes ever since, which was kind of funny because Brenda, my ex-girlfriend, was a blonde. I’d dated a couple of times in high school, but Brenda and I had gone out for nearly nine months. I’d sort of thought I was in love with her, until Ches told me that she’d been screwing Jack fucking Sullivan behind my back. Turned out I wasn’t as much in love with her as I’d thought. Turned out I didn’t give a shit when we broke up. Not really, but still fucking humiliating.

Afterwards, I hadn’t had much interest in dating anyone else.

And then I heard Caroline was coming back. I really wanted to see her, to find out if she lived up to my memory of her. I didn’t think that would be possible; I mean, she must have changed. It had been nine years: she must have changed, right? For all I knew, she was fat and had kids. Even so, I’d been desperate to think of a way to see her, and find out once and for all. She probably didn’t even remember me: I was just some kid that she’d taken pity on.

And then I’d seen her at the beach, and she’d taken my breath away. She was so beautiful. She had the same long, brown hair that looked almost auburn in the sun; and her eyes were almost hazel and her skin was all glowing and tan, looking fucking delicious.

She was so beautiful lying there in that bikini; I got hard just looking at her, and my eyes damn near dropped out of my head and rolled down the beach. It really made me pissed to think that the other guys were probably thinking the same thing. I’d had to hold my surfboard in front of me, so she couldn’t tell how I was feeling. How fucking embarrassing was that?

When she sat up and I could see her breasts, I nearly came on the spot. Ugh, God!

At first, she hadn’t recognized me. I was shocked by how much that hurt; but then I told her who I was and she smiled at me. Her smile fucking knocked me out.

“So, that’s
your
Mrs. Wilson, huh?” said Ches, leering at me as he jogged my elbow. “She’s freakin’ hot.”

“Heh heh! I bet Seb’s wishing she was a cougar,” said Fido. “I wouldn’t say no.”

I slapped him upside the head, and he kept his mouth shut after that, but Ches kept throwing me these cheesy looks.

I couldn’t concentrate on anything but the way she looked at me. It was a miracle I didn’t drown when I went back out to surf.

Then at the party, later. She talked to me again … she looked so beautiful, and she was so sweet and funny. The way she talked to me: it sounded like she really cared, like she was really interested in
me.

And then my fucking father had to turn up and humiliate me in front of her. I really wanted to fucking kill him.

But thanks to Mrs. Vorstadt’s barbecue, I knew that Caro would be at home the next morning. I could offer again to help her finish her unpacking—and get to talk to her alone.

I set the alarm to wake up early, making sure I didn’t bump into her bastard husband as he left for work. Mom would be asleep till lunchtime, so I didn’t have to worry about her.

Walking over to Caroline’s was one of the scariest fucking things I’d ever done. I didn’t know what I’d say to her. Well, offer to help with her moving-in stuff, obviously. It was fucking irritating to be so nervous: I’d been fine when I’d talked to her last night. Maybe that was because I didn’t know she was going to be there—I hadn’t had time to turn into a fucking pussy.

I took a deep breath and knocked on her door.

Her expression was faintly irritated when she answered.
Fuck! That didn’t look good.

I shoved my hands in my pockets to stop them shaking, and stuck on a fake smile.

“Hi, Mrs. Wilson.”

“Oh, hello! It’s nice to see you again, Sebastian. What can I do for you?”

“You said you had to unpack crates; I thought I could help.”
And I wanted to see you alone.

She didn’t look very happy and my nerve began to falter, wither, and fucking die a humiliating death.

“That’s very sweet of you, Sebastian, but I don’t think your parents would be happy if they knew you were here instead of studying.”

“I’m taking a break,” I lied.

“I’m sure they won’t object to Sebastian helping a neighbor.”

Fuck!
Mrs. Vorstadt. Damn. I’d thought Caroline would be alone.

“That’s very thoughtful of you, Sebastian,” she continued, in a tone that sounded like she knew
exactly
why I was standing on the doorstep.

“Well, I could certainly use some help.” Caroline sounded flustered, but she hadn’t said ‘no’ either.

“Great! I’ll go get started.”

I practically ran to her garage, hoping Mrs. Vorstadt wouldn’t put two and two together.

I faintly heard Caroline mutter “thank you”, but I didn’t want to hear what else they might say about me, so I started hauling stuff out of crates like my life depended on it.

When Mrs. Vorstadt drove away, Caroline walked into the garage, shaking her head.

“You really don’t have to do this, you know.”

“I want to help.”

It wasn’t a lie exactly: I did want to help her. But more than anything, I just wanted to talk to her, spend time with her.

I pulled out a box full of paperbacks.

“Where do you want this?”

“Oh, could you take that into the living room? There’s a cabinet with a bookshelf—they can be tucked away in there.”

I carried it inside and unpacked her books. Most of them were by authors I’d never heard of. I tried to memorize some of the titles so I could read them, then talk to her about them.

Yeah, I know, but being near this woman was driving me fucking insane
.

For one thing, I could smell the shampoo that she’d used, and for another, she was wearing this cute little sundress, and when she stood in the doorway to the garage, I could see right through it. I was going to spend the whole fucking morning as hard as fucking rock. I just hoped she wouldn’t notice.

Adjusting myself carefully, I wandered back out to the garage. She was struggling with a huge box, and I had to brush past her to take it out of her hands. I nearly came in my jeans when she backed her fucking amazing ass into me.

“Oh, sorry!” she laughed. “I’m so clumsy!”

“Nah, it was my fault. Where do you want this?”

That box had to go in her bedroom. Jeez, I really wanted to see
that
room, but when I got there,
his
fucking dress uniform was lying on the bed, reminding me that she was married.

I hated everything about her husband: he was an arrogant fucker and he treated her like shit.

I trudged down the stairs and back out to the garage. Then she looked up and smiled, and I remembered why I was here.

“So, how’s school? Not too long until you graduate now.”

“Nope, I can’t wait.”

“Do you have plans for the summer?”

“Yeah. Surf. A lot.”

She laughed. “Of course! Your endless summer. Anything else, or is that a 24-hour a day surf?”

“Yeah, something like that! Nah, I’ll have to get a job. The less time I’m at home, the better.”

She frowned, then nodded. “Well, that sounds like a plan. Maybe you could get a job in a surf shop?”

God, she was great. She totally understood me.

We chatted easily for hours, and I couldn’t remember why I’d been nervous to come over here.

“Oh crap! It’s nearly lunchtime,” she said, staring at her watch.

She looked kind of annoyed, and I wondered if she was late for something.

“Did you have to be somewhere?”

“No, no, I’m worried about you. Your parents … your studying.”

Fuck that.

“No sweat.”

“Look, I’m not going to be responsible for you flunking out. I’ll fix you some lunch, and then you must go study. Deal?”

Food and Caroline. I was one happy fucker.

“Okay, deal!”

She showed me where I could wash up and when I walked into the kitchen, she was reaching up to get some glasses. I realized how darn little she was. Just so fucking perfect. Just the right size for me to …
And
, I was hard again. Little fucker wouldn’t stay down.

I reached up to get the glasses for her.

“I’ll get those for you.”

I don’t think she’d realized I was there, because she jumped when she heard my voice. But having her so near to me, it was like her whole body was a magnet pulling me in. I stood there like a scary fucking moron with those damn glasses in my hand, just staring at her.

She took them from me without comment. But two seconds later she was leaning into the fridge, her fucking perfect ass waving at me. It took every ounce of control not to leap on her. And then she started talking about lemon pressé. She could have offered me bong water and I’d have fucking drunk it without noticing.

“Yeah, I’ll try that, please, Mrs. Wilson.”

“Sebastian, you can call me Caroline. Mrs. Wilson is so formal … and it makes me feel ancient.”

Well, shit!

“Okay, Caroline.”

I couldn’t help grinning like a loon.
Caroline
. I loved the way it sounded when I said her voice out loud.

“Now, I can make you a chicken salad sub or … tricolored salad.”

Oh, yeah. Time to do suave.

“Insalata tricolore, per favore.”

She looked so fucking surprised, I nearly laughed out loud.

“I’ve been learning Italian. A correspondence course. My high school only offered Spanish.”
For you. Caroline.

“Really? Molto bene!”

“And I’ve been listening to opera, too. I like Verdi.”

Liar: it sounded like cats fighting.

“The fallen woman.”

What the fuck? What did she mean? What was she trying to say to me?

“Excuse me?”

“
La Traviata
: I presume that’s what you mean when you say you like Verdi. Or maybe
Aïda
?
Rigoletto
?”

Oh.

“Yeah, all of those.”

“I thought teenage boys only listened to heavy rock music.”

Shit. She knew I was being a pretentious fucker.

“I’m glad you like opera,” she said, softly. “My father loved it.”

Yeah, I remembered him.
I was so fucking jealous that she had a great dad like that.

“I remember you and him singing opera in your kitchen.”

“Really, you remember that?”

“I remember everything.”
Everything about you, Caroline.

“That was a great visit when Papa came to stay.”

“Yeah, he was fun. We blew up a lot of things.”

“Yes, David wasn’t very happy about it.”

That fucker. Change of fucking subject coming right up.

“How is your dad?”

“He passed away: two years ago.”

Oh shit.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

Fucking moron! You’ve made her cry! Shit, I’m sorry, Caroline!

I could have kicked myself, because then the shutters came down, and she became all formal again.

“Thank you for your help this morning, Sebastian. It was really very thoughtful of you, but I’m going to have to insist that you go and do some studying as soon as we’ve eaten. I don’t want to get you into any more trouble.”

Yeah, I deserved that. She wanted me the fuck out, and I couldn’t blame her.
Fucking idiot.

She made me a really amazing meal. I hadn’t had anything to eat since the barbecue, and I was so hungry, my stomach was yelling at me to get the food in as quickly as possible without stopping. Everything she made was wonderful. I could have kissed her.
And I really fucking wanted to
.