Sept. 2014

Some things weren't deliberate, nor were they random. They seemed, perhaps, Jo thought the word was providential. But providence sounds like the events are working to converge towards the best possible outcome, so Jo was avoiding that word.

She and Harry seemed to be converging in so many arenas of her life that he had become unavoidable, like, death or traffic lights or taxes, only much more pleasant to think of, and look at.

It had started with that Thursday morning swim lesson. The green eyed boy was there in all of his wet shoulder length hair glory and he was surrounded by toddlers who clearly adored him. Including her own. Jo's eyes scanned over him, sitting in the water on the white concrete steps, smiling encouragingly at a cherubic boy of perhaps two who was doggy paddling his heart out. The water thrown from the small boys flapping hands had left droplets on Harry's shoulders and they created rivulets where his skin looked paler, like the wet drops of a second coat of paint. His hair was soaked and pushed back like a 50's greaser, the tattoos complimenting his Cry Baby vibe. He looked like a bad boy, until she got to the pearls of his teeth, like piano keys playing the sounds of his laugh. His laugh was ridiculous, the real one, that he couldn't contain. It always had been, it went along with her own son's ridiculous snort, a cackle and cough of amusement, not snot. Harry's eyes glowed and his smile plumped cheeks looked highlighted, but they were just glistening wet. He glistened, he glowed.

Fuck, she was over this, except in her better dreams. Jo needed to get out of there, but she had made a promise to herself and her daughter to come to swim lessons as soon as she could. Zoe was so young she may not have remembered that, but it's an oath she keeps to herself and her kids. After her workaholic dad had missed art show after art show despite his  vows of, "I'll be there", she made a point to show up for her kids as much as she could. And if she said she was coming, she went. If she said, "I promise!," nothing short of hospitalization would stop her, even if she was late.

Jo stayed at the pool.

Her hand smoothed over her hair, and she cast her eyes over her attire. It was cute at least, the mom uniform she had thrown on. An oversized grey sweater, sunglasses, usually useless in England except as a headband, and leggings.

She was being ridiculous. Harry did not care. She was sure of that. He had been drunk that night, and she had been the closest female shaped thing. And he was only 20. Well, 21, she realized. If she remembered correctly, boys around that age, about  when she got knocked up and bore a baby, got boners frequently and with little provocation. Though it was loads better than when they were pubescent. Her mind wandered to when Ethan tried to fake sick in sixth form because his teacher looked fit to him and his body reacted humiliatingly. They'd talked it out and strategized ways to avoid going up to the board or leaving class with awkward boners.

Looking at Harry now, Jo is happy to be a woman. No amount of attraction was blatantly apparent. Even the strong force she was feeling now.

She took that back a second later, when Harry caught the little boy, helped him up the steps and scanned the poolside. He located the boy's parent and smiled as his charge ran to his mum's outstretched arms. He ran his eyes over the collected individuals, she assumed that he was looking for Zoe, as its their appointed time. His gaze passed her, then stopped to rewind and paused on her. They lingered over her and gooseflesh rose on her arms, even though they were covered and the poolside air was muggy. His eyes didn't fall below her shoulders, but she felt naked nonetheless, and breathless. They stared at each other, across a distance, like they had when separated by the bathroom door, and he was more bare than he was then, in terms of clothes at least.

Jo used to watch Star Trek, in her teenaged bedroom, and she had loved it. Harry's gaze was a tractor beam, pulling her in and under like her favorite trope on that show. She would dive into the water if would get her closer to him right now. If she could move.

A yank at her arm and a whined, "Mummy, my turn?" pulled her from her descent, sudden as the jerk of a steering wheel to avoid an accident.

"What love?" She focused on Zoe, who she noticed had her legs crossed. "Do you need a wee, lamb?"

"No! Swim!" Zoe pointed at the pool, but she wiggled and Jo knew that dance. They had been potty training for two months, and Zoe had done well, but this was an accident waiting to happen. Jo decided not to think about how many children just peed in the pool.

"No, toilet." She put her eyes back on Harry and the gravitational force remained, but she kept herself from merging with him this time. "Sorry, we need five minutes. Toilet?"

"Follow the way you came in, locker rooms are just past check in." His bicep flexed when he pointed and his voice was a well, deep, fluid, and it echoed off the tile walls.

"K!" Jo already turned, had Zoe hoisted on her hip. She moved fast, not wanting to be pissed upon. Zoe's suit would dry, her pants would too, albeit a lot slower.

Also, she needed to collect herself. Was every parent in there watching her eye fuck her baby's swim instructor? How were they not eye fucking the swim instructor? Her whole body was teeming, nerve endings popping, like fireworks at the new year. A break, she needed a break. Jo slipped Zoe's swim bottoms down and sat her on the toilet. Then wiped her and decided to pee herself to prolong bathroom time. Zoe took the opportunity to put on her new favorite accessory, a toilet paper scarf.

"Oh love, you are a mess!" Jo said as she snapped a picture andvowed she would print that one out. When she was younger, that kind of silliness might have embarrassed her, now it just delighted her.She still kicked herself that she didn't record Ethan screaming, "fire fuck" when he was three and the firemen came to play group. She was too busy being concerned about what the other parents thought of her.

Jo looked up from her own wet hands and got paper towels to dry Zoe's. She was too grown now to feel embarrassed. Harry was handsome, and maybe he thought she was too, but nothing too shameful had happened and wouldn't.

"Let's swim H.M.E.!" Hot mess express. She should probably stop that nickname before Zoe picked up on it and asked what the letters meant. That would be happening soon with this smart cookie.

Harry was out of the pool, his torso mostly dry, thankfully, until she noticed his wet curling leg hair. Jo was not ok. A mental alarm bell started to go off again but she pressed pause and walked over to him. So what if she had seen his dick? She'd seen 10 or so others closer, and she was able to look them square in the eye, what should make his any different?

Well, for starters, how much she still thought about it. And her blush. And his dimples. Those were different. This time, their gaze was charged but the wall it was plugged into was painted pink from embarrassment. Harry seemed to remember his drunken wank now. Or it had overridden whatever the hell was going on earlier.

"Hi Miss Jo." He gave her a sweet smile and all of her resolve melted.

"Hiya, Harry." Why was her voice all pitchy? They stared a moment too long, but caught themselves quicker this time.

Harry dropped down to Zoe's level, where she was pretending shyness behind Jo's legs. Her Lycra encased legs. Maybe this outfit was too tight. It felt like it suddenly.

"Hello Miss Zoe, you ready to swim?" He extended a hand, and Zoe scuttled back behind her legs, Harry reached around to get a gentle hold of her and gripped Jo's calf instead.

"Oh!" Jo yelped before she was able to stop her mouth, and felt his grip in the Mordor heated pit of her belly. That a touch on the lower leg could make one woozy in the head was a thing she had never considered. When she looked down, Harry had had a run in with Elsa - he was frozen in his spot, with his hand curved around her leg and his eyes waiting for hers. They stared at each other and Jo was sure she could feel her pupils dilate.

Zoe's giggle broke them out of their fugue. And then Jo's toddler was going through her legs. The moment before had been one of the most erotic of her life, and then suddenly she was playing a slippery game of leap frog. Harry looked ready to right her if she lost her balance while Zoe tried to get around her and onto him. Jo had to stop that happening the idea of his hands anywhere above her knees had her holding herself like a fencer, en guard. She might've hit him, it would be less violent than if the bolt of lightning that was his touch struck her. She had a flash of the split tree whose insides where covered in molten gold she had seen at a museum once.

If he touched her again, would she crack open? Split down her middle? Be gilded - painted in gold?

"Swim?" Zoe asked at Harry's shoulder where he was still knelt down. His broad shoulders expanded and Jo felt that in her hips too, but she saw him come together like a cartoon skeleton and hoist Zoe with him into the water, able to move past whatever was going on with them. Jo found a bench to keep her half upright, fully was not in the cards much longer; her knees were as soft as her head and she felt a splash of Zoe's rather than saw it. The lick of the water across her face woke her up enough to bring her to the moment. Her daughter was the focus. And she was able to maintain it, with only minor concentration breaks to consider chlorine greens in contrast to jade and the color of guavabefore her three year old yelled.

"Mama, watch me!"

Jo did just that and kept her eyes off the beckoning man Zoe swam towards. She really was swimming now. That was a sigh of relief. The only one Jo was going to allow this day.

The hour was up before Zoe was ready, and well past Jo's comfort zone. Harry carried Zoe out of the pool, and Jo was reminded, as her wet child clung to him, how much her little one had loved him as a babysitter. That was a pity. The idea of Harry in her house anywhere near her without some kind of supervision, even with Zoe nearby, was as dangerous as solar fusion. Best avoided unless undertaken by celestial bodies. Zoe would just have to get her Harry fix at swim. And Audrey would have to bring her and meet Jo later. That was clear as midday.

Harry handed Zoe off, under loud protest and Jo hoped she was tired enough to regress and take a morning nap.

Alternatively, Zoe might throw one of her new fits. Nonsensical to all but her, but increasingly dramatic as she approached the age of three. People talked about two, but no one warned you about three. Jo mentally geared up for the longest ten minute drive back home. She had got a towel around her tense child when Harry spoke to her.

"It was so lovely to see you Jo." Just Jo, Harry said.

"Yeah, it was." She meant it. He was a lovely sight.

"See you next week?" The brow quirk was hopeful and youthful. Youthful as him.

"Mmmmhmm," Jo made an agreeable noise and got her clinging monkey to the changing room, where she calmed nicely when given a cereal bar. That disaster was avoided at least. They took their leave and Jo called her department head and took a summer session art lab during Zoe's lesson time. Followed by a call to Audrey to secure her schedule.

Jo wouldn't see Harry for the rest of the summer. Only at the end of summer awards ceremony where the new swimmers got certificates, where he would be safely clothed and Jo would make sure to be on the other side of the room. She congratulated herself on side stepping that surprise minefield. Jo had no idea that lay below the surface there. They had spent hours together when he was a teen and there had been none of that. Not even an errant thought she had to push back into the very bad houghts box.

Harry also never seemed to have a case of the Stacey's moms for her. He was respectful and they shared art, but it ended there. No matter how many times she held his hand to help his brushstroke or made him tea when they painted until the early evening.

Jo tried to pinpoint the change. She guessed it had been the day he came round to see Ethan after they had both had gone off to uni. That was when she had noticed him. And she had just been more and more aware of him,her consciousness migrating from her eyes onto other parts of her body each time she saw him. Which was the only upside to Ethan not coming back for summer, and maybe not until Christmas, news he had broken to her on his recent weekend home. He was seeing someone. Apparently that meant he wanted to be closer to her than his old mum. Natural, she supposed.

But Jo was about to be busy, too. With swim lessons over and her life getting back to it's allegro pace once semester was underway, Jo wouldn't be seeing Harry, no matter how sweet a sight he was. He was taboo and their interest, fire, or whatever it was that made her feel like a lightning rod, would fade with time. Nearly everything did. Her divorce and marital rejection had been the most painful thing in her life, and now she could be in the same room as Colin and not want to sucker punch him like he had her. Jo only wanted to slap him. Improvement.

So, maybe by Christmas, she wouldn't want Harry to split her in two with his beautiful dick and see whether her insides were golden.

Distance, she decided, and time. That's why she skipped Zoe's swim lessons and had Audrey take video. The certificate ceremony was artfully danced around with the only contact being an awkward wave. Now, her classes began tomorrow, and the boys were getting to the serious times of their final year at uni. Only Christmas need be negotiated. Jo had a plan for that too. She was going to nip this thing in the bud.

These were all things she told herself all summer, whenever her mind wandered to the jungle of Harry's coloring. And she had even calmed her own ardor and found that Tom Hardy's face was once again enough to finish her off.Everything would be fine.

But now? Now her comfort was gone, the wool was off her eyes and the carpet had been snatched out from under her feet. 

Jo sat at her desk during office hours waiting to meet her senior advisee with her head in her hands and wondered how she was gonna get through the semester.

Would Harry be a needy student?

Because Harry was now her student, and what was in the water that young man was drinking? He was more lovely every time she saw him. Today he was just, well hot, he made her feel 10 degrees too warm.

She had been straightening things on her desk and queuing up her syllabus and masterworks presentations for the first day of class when a murmur when through the room. Two attractive young ladies in the front row had been chatting since they sat down and Jo had smiled to herself at their obvious closeness, they touched causally and when the air changed she saw the wordles conversation they had. The blonde girl had placed a hand on the brunette's arm and her friend's head had come up to look towards the door. Her jaw had dropped and then she had looked at her mate and bugged her eyes.  It was a cute interaction and Jo decided to see what all the fuss was about. She was sorry she did.

Because there was Harry. Her son's mate, as she reminded herself. With an iced coffee in his hand, a hat on his head, too tight black jeans, and a shirt casually unbuttoned to show a collection of necklaces to reel him in by and tattoos that seemed to draw in the girls in the front row. And Jo too.  He casually strolled to a seat dead center in the front row, not even a most ignorable spot like center back, and arranged his laptop and notebook. His coffee was by his foot, and Jo knew he was going to spill it.He did midway through class, of course. Harry had always been clumsy.

But back to his unavoidable, unforgivable self placement. Not only had he taken her class, spoiling her plans, but he sat in her direct line of view and then, while Jo was still processing his place in her course, he looked up from his fussing and shot her a look straight in her eyes. Then smiled wide, dimples deep, with the smallest hint of smug.

Jo almost said fuck out loud. She didn't, because she was a professional.

Dammit, she was a professional and she conducted her class as such.

"Morning everybody, welcome. Please those on the left aisles, find the syllabi near your feet and pass them to your right. I'm Professor Smith, let's dissect so called masterworks, shall we?"And she had made it through, only able to keep her iron eyes from magnetizing to him a few extra times. Many of the other ladies in the room were watching him too, so Jo got away with it. Or at least was comforted by the company.

Harry made special time to come up and chat to her on the way out.His gait was long and his legs were giraffe like in proportion in those skinny jeans.

Jo fixed her glasses to camouflage her stare as well as avert it.

"Hey Professor Smith!" He opened with and in this instance she didn't correct the formality. She needed every hurdle she could put between them, the desk, title, their age gap, and especially his relationship with her son.

"Hi Harry. I thought you were going to get through this whole degree without having me." The minute she completed her sentence she bit her lip at the opening she had given him.

Harry's lips quirked in response, but she was surprised he didn't take the piss. Jo had never seen him give Ethan a pass.

"Well, I didn't want to graduate without seeing you in action. I've seen you paint, loved watching you, so I had to see you do your other passion." He shrugged and she wondered how he knew how she felt about teaching. It was a passion she loved while resenting its necessity. Most days she would rather be in studio than in a classroom if she were honest.

"Well, I hope I don't disappoint." She packed her computer into her bag while she spoke. She needed to be going to office hours. Normally, she would be going just to see if anybody showed up and needed help, instead, today was exciting. The university had graduated her to a senior professorship, so she would be getting an advisee to help through creating their senior project. Jo had been excited about this prospect since she had moved to the university level. She'd loved her younger students, but working with someone with skill and vision was thrilling.

Jo couldn't wait. The excitement on her face when she looked up sparked a gleam in Harry's eye.

"I can't imagine you disappointing me, Professor Smith."  The words could be taken as flirty and they were to be sure. He couldn't seem to help it, but they also were genuine. He looked liked he enjoyed the  way she carried herself in class. He'd loved working with her when he discovered art through her. He looked excited.

"I hope we are both right then. I have to be getting to a meeting. I'll see you next week?"  She stopped her hand short of his shoulder. If the accidental calf clutch still occasionally produced tingles, she wanted to avoid seeing what a touch with a nerve rich part of her body, like her fingertips, would produce.

"Yeah." He drew into himself a moment, then exhaled slowly before saying, "I missed seeing you at Zoe's lessons, your babysitter had indicated you'd be coming more than you did."

Jo focused her attention on collecting her bag and smoothed the strap over her shoulder. She didn't look up to speak, his eye contact was tactile. "I was offered a class," asked for it, "and Ethan works too hard, it gave me a little extra to help him."

"Yeah, that's why I teach in the summers, so Mum doesn't have to help. Also, wanted my own place where no one would notice if I'm painting all night. Seemed to be a disturbance."

His audible grin made her look up, "You're still painting then?"

He looked around the lecture hall, "Well, yeah, doing an art degree and all. Should I not be?" His confidence flagged a moment, Jo saw the flash of insecurity around him.

"No, no, just exciting to hear. Bet you've gotten really good. You had that thing." She found herself looking at him, though she knew it was a bad idea.

Harry reached out then, and covered her hand with his. Her throat burned. "I had a good teacher."Her heart was pounding.

"Um," she turned to look at the clock, ignoring her watch but effectively dislodging his hand.

"I, I need to head out. See you." The hair that had come loose from her bun she pushed behind an ear and did not look at him as she walked out the door, throwing an awkward hand back in a half assed wave.

So now, she was sat in her office thinking about her hand and the darts of sensation that ran to her shoulder when he gave her that compliment. It would be ok, she avoided him successfully this summer. She was a professional and many students she never saw outside of class. It would be ok, then next semester he'd be on another course, and in May he would be graduating and leaving their town. She hoped.

It wasn't big enough for the talent he had at sixteen, let alone what he might possess now. Jo would be sorry to miss out on seeing his artwork. It was definitely for the best, she admired him enough already. His safe position in her art history course was a blessing. Distance could be kept.

Her door resounded with a knock then, and she looked quickly at her reflection in a photo of Ethan and Zoe from Mallorca. Jo smoothed her hair and stood to open the door to the student she hoped to open many more doors for, and would be spending lots of time with.

When the long curls and green eyes were revealed by the swing of the door, Jo wasn't sure if it was providential.

But it was without a doubt convergence.