July 2014

After that night, Jo started running. Literally. She took up running to sublimate some of the pulsing red energy that started when Harry made eye contact with her while making himself come.

Well, started when he came in wearing that green shirt and revolutionized her mental picture of him. Also, she had missed having time to think while her feet pounded the pavement rhythmically. It gave her lots of time to ruminate over all the ways she was very very bad for fantasizing about her son's mate. He was the same age as her son.

Her grown son, a voice whispered. Shut up, she would say to the little red clad woman on her shoulder. Harry was too nice of a boy and deserved a girl his own age. He was way too mature for most people his age, the wicked little bitch intoned. She was fooling herself anyway, he wasn't interested. The response there was not a voice, but a picture of his smirk when he saw her look at his perky nips, or his own stare at her exposed thighs, or most damning, his face when he came. When he came as he looked into her eyes.

Today's run was less successful than others.

Wisely, she had run away in other ways as well. A little more figuratively. She had secured a new babysitter for Zoe. One who was still in college, female, and great with Zoe. Bonus that the thought of her didn't make Jo feel like she was sitting on an orange. Audrey watched out for Zoe and was big on play. It didn't take that long for Zoe to stop asking for Harry.

Another mixed blessing was that after his long weeks home for Christmas and New Year's, Ethan stayed at school for most of winter and spring. This was a thing she was both thankful for and resented, like good advice not taken. It meant she only saw him through a screen, but it also meant that she didn't have to face Harry. She remedied the situation by taking him on a proper holiday during a reading week. They went to Mallorca which seemed like a nice bridge between her wish for Barcelona and his for Ibiza. Ethan was happy at the beaches, went out to clubs at night, and she didn't nag the night he didn't come home.

At home, after the interlude, she guessed you could call it, with Harry, she had been unable to sleep and had snuck upstairs and slept on Zoe's floor with the blanket and pillow she kept there for teething or sick nights. Her eyes had drooped and she'd slept so deeply that she remembered none of her dreams. She supposed that was optimal, she was afraid they would be full of spring greens, sunlight, and vibrant pinks. Her dreams the nights following were full of her either chasing or being chased through jungles, but since his hues were the inspiration, she only saw suggestions of him. He was camouflaged.

The next morning, Ethan found her on Zoe's carpet and accepted her excuse for the bags under her eyes. It seemed obvious enough that the toddler was responsible for the disruption to her sleeping arrangement.

"Harry's gone home to be babied by his own mother," he groaned.

Good, Jo was not feeling the least bit motherly towards him right now.

Her boy though, he was bringing forth the mama bear. Ethan looked rough, his hangdog expression wasn't even the worst of it. It was clear that summiting the stairs had worn him out, he'd leaned against the door jamb before folding himself next to her right there on the nursery floor.

"Mummy, will you make me tea and toast?" He pouted and she was about to push his mouth away because he hadn't called her mummy since he was 8. She stopped right before she made contact.

"Does your head hurt?" She laid the back of her hand across his forehead, like he might have a fever or something. It was an automatic accompaniment to the question though.

"Yes..." he looked up at her with his head on her shoulder. "Is it big? It feels really big?"

"Did you take anything?" she whispered and nodded her head to his sleeping and ever growing sister.

"No, I couldn't find it."

Jo laughed under her breath. "I haven't moved it in the last year and a half!" She got up to go get it and could hear him hauling his clown shoe like feet behind him.

"You always got it for me," he told her once they reached the hallway.

"Did I?" Well that was a mom fail. Was this why men couldn't find anything for themselves? Jo would have to do better at working herself out of a job. She wanted to baby him. But he wasn't a baby - he was a man - or would be very soon, and so she made him follow her to the downstairs powder room.

"Mum! Can't I go lay down? I'm rough!"

"What do you do when you're at school, then?" She pulled open the cabinet. "I've always kept it here."

"Thanks," he took the pills and the cup from her hand and swallowed them down. "At school, I just stay in bed and groan until I can get up and make it to the kitchen and pray that I have stuff for a fry up." His right eyebrow cocked.

"You want a fry up?"

"Yes, please!" He perked up and then remembered he was being extra dramatic.

"Does Harry get this treatment at home?" Jo couldn't believe she had brought him up. He was supposed to be safely out of her mind.

"No, but he gets babied a little bit more often, he comes home most weekends. His mum is less tough regularly, but also not as soft as you are because you miss me." He lay down on the couch and gave her a smile that would melt butter.

"I'm not soft!" she scoffed. But it wasn't true. She was as soft as she could afford to be, and with him successfully out of the house and maybe not coming back, that was squishy as Zoe's belly these days.

"Right, mum. Tough as nails, now about that fry up..." he gave a grin from his sprawled out place on the couch and decided if she was going to spoil him, she had better get to it, Zoe would be up soon. She threw some extra beans in for herself and settled in for her family holiday.

Which passed much too quickly. Ethan was a doll.  He made flipbooks, small rectangular books of pictures, of himself and Zoe from birth through two, comparing them age for age, which took some effort and detective work. His interest in photo albums his first day on break made so much sense, he was looking for pictures to steal to use the app to make her gifts. They were ideally sized for her desk drawer at work though, and she loved it.

Zoe also loved the stuffy he got her, it was wearing a t shirt with their pictures on it. Zoe pointed at Ethan and said 'Tan" repeatedly. And her boy had a new nickname, just like that. It was the happiest holiday she could remember. When she was pregnant with Zoe, she was uniquely conscious of the impending demise of her marriage and her husband's apathy about the baby in her belly. No matter how many tiny stockings she hung with the other three on the mantle, or how much she gave him pink framed sonograms, Jo could not make Colin excited, or even interested.

Ethan had been a godsend that year. He'd found the tiny stocking and had huzzahed and made all the appropriate noises about having a baby sister. He'd rubbed her feet on Christmas Eve when she had run herself ragged trying to create the perfect holiday for a man who didn't care.

She had told him that it wasn't his place. She don't need him to be her rock, but he'd just smiled. Ethan was more of a man than Colin ever could be. Jo was so proud, and she didn't even think she could take credit. He was just a gift.

Which was another reason she was avoiding Harry like a germaphobe friend of hers avoided paper money. How weird would it be if she let the attraction she felt to Harry bloom? They had a massive age and experience gap. He was the same age as her son. She reminded herself all the time that he was off limits because he was her son's best friend, or close enough. What could he possibly know about matters of the heart? Not that any hearts would necessarily be involved. And if it was just about bodies, it was definitely not worth causing strain on a relationship that clearly meant so much to her son. He and Harry went through seasons when they were younger when they were thick as thieves, she could hardly get them to quit playing video games or whatever they were doing to come down and eat. No fuck was worth that.

Not that knowing all of these things was keeping her from seeing his face when she took care of her own needs lately. And she seemed to need it  so much more often than ever before. Jo was frankly astonished at herself. She could almost clock her cycle by the strong urges she felt and deep need that accompanied them. And in her head, it was always Harry, even if she started out thinking about a former lover, or Colin, who had seen to her well enough, or even Tom Hardy, who had worked well enough when she was single and not as needy. It would start with a robust man with full lips and swollen biceps and she'd be invested, but as her vibe or fingers whirled, her mind would wander to a wide mouth and green eyes, and a lanky build, and before she knew it, she was on a canvas on the floor of her studio with Harry above her. It was now her own personal money shot. Seemingly nothing else would do.

But these were all physical cravings she could sublimate, run or rub off. It would be ridiculous to think there would be anything beyond that.

That's what she told herself over and over and over again. Even when she would fall asleep to the taste of dawn and the fact that it was her eyes that made him shoot, not any part of her clothed body. Her eyes.

None it mattered, and as long as it stayed in the realm of fantasy, nobody, least of all her child, had to be the wiser. No one was getting hurt. She hadn't seen Harry since that night four months ago, and she could avoid him when he came round during the summer if Ethan came home.

He had already broken it to her that he was going to stay in Bournemouth for the summer, and only come home for the odd while. Much as she disliked it, it was natural that he come home less and less. Jo had accepted in her head that this was normal and natural - healthy even. He was establishing a life, but did he have to do that so far away?

The only silver lining she could see was that she would not be forced to see Harry's face until their attraction - or whatever the hell was going on - faded. She could avoid the pull of his gravity and the black hole of her own thoughts with time and distance. Jo was getting better at it as the end of the semester approached.

Summer was coming up and her need had cooled considerably, that was the thing about celibacy, once you went without it long enough, it was so much easier to ignore. The itch would just go away and she wouldn't need to scratch it, she hoped.

It was the first day of her break, all of the finals she had assigned had been read and graded, and Jo was look forward to a day with her girl. Audrey had been taking Zoe to swim classes for the better part of the month. When they were in Mallorca and went to the pool, Jo had been incredibly stressed about Zoe being near water which had made it very hard to enjoy that aspect of the trip. When Ethan was a little thing, she didn't recall being so nervous about him being in the pool, and he didn't take lessons until he was in school and developed his interest in sport. Her worry bone had severely overgrown she decided, shaking her head at herself, but it would make for a more enjoyable summer if she was more comfortable in the water. Zoe would be more comfortable too.

Audrey loved the swim teacher, was always going on and on about him and his hair and eyes. It was adorable. Jo assumed they were the same age, and had been encouraging Audrey to ask him out. The girl didn't strike Jo as shy, but she clammed up immediately at the idea. Almost as though she didn't know how amazing she was. 

"Oh, I couldn't miss Joanna, he's older and in uni and just, ughh." She made a noise that Jo imagined sounded like a pterodactyl.

"How much older? Are we talking 5 years or two?" Jo asked while she sat helping Audrey straighten the toys Zoe had gotten into. "When do you turn 18?"

"Oh, like next month. But I think that he is 22 or something." Audrey marveled and Jo thought about how rapidly that birthday was approaching for Ethan.  It also meant Harry was nearing that as well and the distance she was putting there mentally inched up a bit at the thought. If Audrey couldn't fathom 3 years, 20 would blow her mind.

Jo shook herself. Not a thing, she reminded. Not even a worry, he was an attractive lad, and she had caught him with his guard down after a night of purposely lowered inhibitions.

She was sure she had imagined her name on his lips.

Had convinced herself by now.

"That's not so many years." Jo suggested.

"He's just, so outta my league. Like I'm playing club and he's premier."

Jo chuckled at the analogy, but it didn't sit well. "Audrey, you're a lovely girl. No one is out of your league, unless you decide so. Maybe you are out of his!" She put the top on the toy chest. "Now, you ok to walk home? Looks clear now?" She checked the window pane for droplets.

"Yeah, I'm good," she went to the door hooks and grabbed her sensible slicker. Have so much fun at swim. They let you watch them get in, but then shoo the parents away. But, I bet Harry will let you watch since you haven't made it to class yet, if you ask him."

"Yeah, I will, thanks!" For a minute the name Harry stuck in her head and she was annoyed, there are lots of Harrys, it's England for Christ's sake. But then the working mom guilt that she hadn't been able to get to swimming yet cropped up and she had to focus to pluck it like a weed. She assumed Zoe liked to eat and have shelter, and she really loved toys. Ethan seemed to like those things too, so she would have to continue to work. There was nobody else to carry the responsibility, it was strapped to her back alone.

She waved Audrey out the house and watched her get to the lamppost before shutting off the porch light.  Jon went to the fridge to see what she could cut up for post swim snack or prep for tomorrow to make the morning smoother. It took all of five minutes to cut up the apples and celery and find the peanut butter to put a dab in a container, but those five minutes felt much more stressful in the morning than they did before bed.

Jo was dead in her feet, the end of a semester was stressful for everyone involved and summer classes were not for weeks. She looked forward to a long sleep and a day with her nearly three year old. How would Zoe be three years old so soon? If Zoe was three, that meant her forty second birthday would soon follow. Jo decided to just ignore this birthday.

She was still feeling a little irked, about her baby not being a baby, and Ethan being a definite man, and her own advancing age, when she lay down. For some reason, Audrey's concern about the three years between her and Zoe's swim instructor was really bothering her.

For the first night in at least a month she woke up breathless from dreaming about colors. It was still dark when she stumbled with her tea mug into the studio. Her sunlit project was still in the easel, sitting fallow. She hadn't been able to get back to it because now it was associated with very bad thoughts indeed.

Jo moved on, sat at another blank canvas and pulled out her palette and favorite brush. It had been in her stocking that year. It was the only thing in it, and Ethan had apologized profusely, but Jo understood, she knew how expensive this brush was.

As the dawn broke, she looked at the black and white scene she'd sketched out - a lone female, walking a bass line it seemed. The funniest part was that as Zoe stirred, Jo had woken up obsessed with color, but had painted without any. She'd instead played in the greys. She was wondering why as she quickly cleaned up and hustled up the stairs.

"Hey, sleepy bub." She called from the door and appreciated that her girl woke up smiling. Ethan had been, and still was, crabby until 10 am.

"Mama!" Zoe raised her arms to greet and the pleasant weight of her on Jo's hip erased her fretting about the lonely woman and what abyss was at the end of her colorless beat.

That was a piece she could come back to the next time she was driven into studio.

Downstairs, Zoe was clipped into her high chair and making messy work of the pancake that Jo had drizzled with lemon. Oddly, Zoe was much more interested in the lemon wedges, rind and all, than the actual pancakes. Those had just been ripped into pieces and smushed into her tray.

At least it wasn't all over the floor yet. "Eat up, bub, we have swimming!"  Her eyes flashed and Jo nodded.

"I swim?" She clapped her hands.

"You get to learn to swim."

"See Harry!" Zoe partied a little more and Jo had another niggle at the back of her mind. It was a common enough name.

"Eat, you need energy." Jo laughed when the lemon went back in. She slid another pancake onto the tray.

That one made it down the gullet and Zoe didn't fight about putting on her swim costume. Jo was thankful for that, had you told her how often she would fight with a two year old about clothes she would not have believed it. But Zoe had very loud and definite opinions about clothing. She especially liked to wear everything backwards. That did not work in her little two piece. Baby two pieces were genius for diapers and potty training. 

They were also about the cutest thing ever. Jo snapped a couple pics and sent them to Ethan, who she imagined would surface in a couple hours and maybe text her  back.

Zoe sang along to the Frozen soundtrack for the 10 minute drive and Jo found herself at full volume with her. That song must be bound to her DNA by now, whether she liked it or not.

It was a fairly simple procedure to get inside, Zoe surrendered all but one of her clutchables, the tiny toys she insisted on having in her chubby paws at all times, and was on board with giving up the little puppet she held once they were poolside.

Swimming made her agreeable. Jo loved this.

Until they got to the pool and Jo remembered that though Harry was a common enough name, they lived in what was essentially a very small town.

"Harry!" Zoe celebrated and he stood from the pool with water cascading down his legs and crossed the blue and white tiles confidently before taking the outstretched arms of her toddler and her squirming torso onto his hips.

He was wet and covered in tattoos and holding her toddler, and Jo needed to go for a run.