Summer Sabbatical

There was a knot in my throat from Tim's question. Things had changed and perhaps I'd been the one to initiate those changes. I'd gone to second base with him, but that wasn't the worst of it. All of the signs were there, I was crushing hard on him. The number of conflicting directions that my mind was determined to take me were taxing my ability to focus on the road. During my silence, I debated which lines I would and couldn't cross. I deeply wanted to traverse every taboo we'd encountered and several that were sure to arise.

I'd promised April, that I'd look out for him and my sister was concerned her son wasn't dating. Although she hadn't asked me to be his matchmaker, she had asked me if I knew of any possible candidates for a summer romance. At the time, I hadn't offered anyone although there was a sweet girl taking my English course at the community college. During finals, I discovered she was heading to Florida, so setting them up together wasn't an option. I'd just found out Candy would be here over the summer which gave me some inkling that I should see what developed. I certainly hadn't intended to insert myself into his slate of potential summer paramours but that was what had happened.

When I pulled into the grocery store parking lot, I decided I had to stop overthinking everything and I simply focused on the task of gathering items for his birthday meal and cake. Inside, Tim grabbed a buggy and pushed it as I retrieved the items we needed. In the fresh produce section, we got a variety of greens, a bag of potatoes and a new batch of berries. Then we hit the baking aisle for the few items I knew I'd need for his cake. Then we looked for some seafood items he might like. There were some jumbo shrimp that looked good and he was very keen to learn how to make my clam chowder. So, I got a pound of fresh-shucked clams and several bottles of clam juice. Tim saw some really good-looking steaks in the meat section and I told him to get them for his birthday meal. In the dairy section, I got a gallon of milk, some butter and cream for coffee.

Checking out it was a little larger grocery tab than what I would normally have, but much less than I might have expected. Tim loaded the items into bags for us, packed them in the hatch of my Honda, and closed it. Then as he climbed inside, he sort of slumped into the seat next to me.

Alone together in the car he timidly asked me, "Are you tired?"

"No, why?" I returned his question.

"Are you upset with me? We've barely spoken since I asked -"

"Well, we couldn't really speak about that in the store," I replied a little too defensively.

"Yeah, I didn't think about that," he said thoughtfully and stared out the window.

"Things have changed, Tim. I'm worrying about all of it."

"Because of Mom?" he asked almost absently.

"That's a part -"

"Are you upset with me or about what we did?" he persisted.

"I'm your aunt, your mother's sister so, we're blood related," I voiced the underlying concern.

"That's not an answer," he said withdrawing further.

"It feels right," I told him. "I think we want the same thing, but I'm having trouble, sweetie."

As I pulled in to the driveway, my lights formed large rectangular spots on the garage door. Tim was quickly at the hatch to get the bags and I hurried to open the front door for him. Inside, he helped me put the groceries away, but went to his room straight afterward, saying he wanted to wash up. It was later than I liked to eat, but my stomach was rumbling, so I warmed us each up some of the casserole and cooked some fresh broccoli.

After putting away the groceries, I was a mess of confused feelings inside. I desperately needed to be alone with my thoughts, so I excused myself to wash up. The bedroom door closed I stripped down and got into the shower. The warm water took some of the edge off, but I felt like I wanted to cry. This wasn't normal, nothing made me weepy or sad like I was feeling. In a way it was similar to the erections that came without warning; I simply wasn't in control of these feelings. Ava had seemed to flip-flop on what we'd done.

Somehow, I kept myself from letting the emotions out and maybe that was a mistake. When I stepped from the shower, Ava was knocking on my door to say she'd made us a lite dinner. I told her I'd be out presently and got into my sleep shorts and tee shirt.

When I joined her at the table, it felt a little tense. She'd warmed up the crab casserole and made some fresh broccoli, just as I liked it. I hesitated telling her how good it was, but then decided I should be myself and let things work themselves out naturally.

"This is really good, Ava. Thanks for making it," I told her.

"You're welcome, sweetie. Look, about earlier, I want to apologize."

"Yeah, it's alright. I got all mixed up with my feelings."

"Things will work out. We're still friends, right?" she asked with a crooked smile.

"You're my best friend, Ava," I confided in her. "I'll do the dishes, you can go read if you like," I offered feeling a distance between us and hoping it was temporary.

"Alright, I'll see you in the morning then," she told me and got up from the table. She kissed my forehead and said, "You know I love you. Goodnight."

Friday morning, I was up and out to the pool pretty late. There was no sign Ava was up yet and I did my best to clean the pool with the skimmer. Some rain must have brought in a variety of debris, but there was also some sand in the bottom. I knew there was a vacuum, but she hadn't shown me how it was used yet.

I wondered if last night's mild kerfuffle would continue today. After eating and clearing away the dishes, the distance we'd created after shopping yesterday seemed to expand. We'd had some fun, but I could tell she was concerned things may have gone too far. I dove in the pool and swam for a while, but a little after noon, I went to check on her and found she wasn't even home. Looking out front, her Honda was gone, and I wondered if she'd come in to say 'goodbye' or had simply left.

I took my boogie board from my bedroom and went down to the beach. There were quite a few people there this afternoon. I guess school was out now most places. There was a group of older, twenty-one and above, guys from a neighboring college I met up with. They'd rented one of the big houses down the street. I hung out with them for much of the afternoon until a thunderstorm sent us all away from the beach. As we were walking off of the wet sand, they told me I should come to the bar with them, in search of women. I told them I wasn't old enough to drink but thanked them for offering. Besides that, I wasn't in a mood to drink or find anyone, but Ava, and she seemed to be taking a break from me.

When I went back to the house, I found she'd returned and there were three gifts on the dining room table, a couple of smaller ones and a big box. They were each wrapped neatly in different birthday type papers. Ava was in the kitchen setting up to prepare something.

"Ah, there you are," she said and came to hug me tightly.

Thursday night I'd crawled into bed and sleep fell on me like death. It hadn't been necessary to tire myself with reading beforehand, I was exhausted mentally and physically. Also, having food on my stomach after 8 PM sometimes had that effect upon me, but I suspected that I was overloading my internal stress levels. After several hours of deep hibernation, I awoke periodically through the early morning hours from sporadic dreams of Tim and I participating in every sexual act I'd worried about the previous day. When I finally got up Friday morning, I was excited and eager to see him, but couldn't face him. It was a little cowardly, but I felt like I needed some more time to think and so I decided to get ready to go shopping for Tim's birthday presents.

As I showered, I concluded that our previous encounter was being relived and amplified in my nearly awakened mind that often solved upcoming problems. That my subconscious considered future encounters with him, not only possible, but likely, disturbed me and I troubled over them. I hadn't intentionally led Tim into a relationship, but somehow it germinated spontaneously and had begun growing organically.

After my shower, I dressed and attempted to sort out where I'd go for his gifts. April and Don hadn't left any instructions about what he might need or what they might get him. In fact, her call had caught me unprepared, I'd been contemplating going to see them this summer. Although, I eagerly accepted having Tim in my home while they were away, it changed the timing and logistics. Normally, when I went to visit them, I stopped and bought him a few science related gifts at an outlet mall along the way to his home. That wasn't an option now and I was uncertain those kinds of things would make the best gift anymore. Plus, I wanted to get him something special this time, he was so mature now, I didn't want to get anything that might bruise his male id.

At the mall, I walked and walked as I wondered what to buy him. It seemed important to get something personal, but maybe not too personal. I'd always hated getting clothes or accessories but wondered what he wanted or needed. I was looking for practical things he could use here or in college. Browsing at the bookstore, I stumbled upon an updated release of The Joy of Sex. It was newer than mine was and had several additions. Then I looked for another in my collection, She Comes First. I knew they seemed fairly personal, but these were essentially manuals and he could use their information with anyone.

I'd sent him a nice big combined check for his birthday and graduation last year, but I still had in mind buying him something big he wouldn't buy himself. When I came upon an electronics store for the second time, it hit me like a bolt and I knew at once, what I was going to get him. His comment that first night about not bringing his computer reminded me that he'd had a big old monitor and computer on the desk in his room two years ago. Inside I found a sales person to help me pick out a rugged aluminum body laptop similar to mine. I wanted it to have all the latest hardware and be at least somewhat upgradable, so Tim would be able to use it throughout college.

With my two purchases in hand, I headed back to the house. The whole drive home, my mind played back a variety of conversations and interactions that'd occurred over the last couple of days. All of it was relatively innocent stuff, with the exception of two big events. First was me asking him to kiss me in the ocean and all that followed and second was Tim suggesting we kiss again and all that ensued after that. Petting, touching and clothed grinding was the extent of it and that didn't seem so bad, especially since it'd been mutually consented between us.

Back at the house, I got the gifts inside and didn't see Tim. While he was out, I took the opportunity to wrap each one in birthday wrapping paper. The books got cute remnants I'd used for some of his childhood gifts. I thought the mixture of adult topics in the balloons and elephants wrap was cute. For the laptop, I used a newer more scholarly looking print that suited the content more appropriately. Moments after I'd wrapped them, the rain that'd been threatening as I drove home, came to fulfill its promised deluge.

In the kitchen, I began setting up to teach Tim how to make either a seafood chowder or clam chowder, whichever one he wanted. We could eat some tonight and have it as a snack or appetizer tomorrow. About the time, I was beginning to wonder where Tim was or when he'd show up, he came through the back door soaking wet.

"Ah, there you are," I said and went to hug him ignoring his wet skin. "You're chilled to the bone, sweetheart. Why don't you go shower and then we'll make some dinner."

"Okay. Are these for tomorrow?" he asked eyeing the gifts.

"Yes, the big one is, but you can open the two small ones today," I told him. He moved promptly to the circus wrapped packages, and I quickly said, "Open them after you're dry, though, they shouldn't get wet."

"Oh, alright, I'll go get showered," he said a little disappointedly heading down the hall.

After thinking about it for a couple of minutes, I decided I should put the books in his room. He might get embarrassed opening them in front of me, so I took the package down the hall. Listening at the door, I could hear the shower going.

I cracked the door and said loudly, "I'm going to put these on the dresser for you to open in private."

He replied, "Okay, I'll be out in a bit."

Back in the kitchen, I watched the rain coming in torrents now. The waves had turned to white caps and the wind was blowing the plants in the back yard and planters violently. The trio of sail shades quivered a bit as gusts came through, but they were rain soaked and the weight of the water kept them from flapping.

"It's really coming down," Tim said startling me a little, as he hugged me from behind.

"Yes, it is," I replied and relaxed against him.

I held his arms in front of me and felt the warmth of him against my back. This wasn't an excited let's fuck hug, it was an 'I love you' hug, not that those can't be the same. We both stared out the window a while and then the thunder came.

He hugged me tighter and said, "Thanks for those books. I've been too embarrassed to order them or go into a store and buy them."

"I didn't get my copies until after Jon passed," I replied and turned to hug him back. "I hope home cooked dinner tomorrow is really what you want."

"It is. I can grill the steaks and you can cook the shrimp," he offered.

"You shouldn't have to cook on your birthday, silly," I told him.

"That cake is best when fresh," he countered.

"Oh okay. But I'll grill the steaks, shrimp and asparagus," I insisted raising up to kiss his cheek and dropping back down. "Let's make a chowder, this really is the perfect weather for it."

"Okay," he said and released me.

"Alright, I have those fresh clams and the juice. So, we could make a simple clam chowder. Or I've got some frozen scallops, shrimp and crab we could add to make it a seafood chowder. Which would you prefer to learn?"

"The seafood sounds really tempting, but I'd like to learn the chowder you made me that time, the 'little blue pool summer clam chowder'," he rattled off the cute new name.

"Alright, clam chowder it is."

I had Tim cut up potatoes I'd already cleaned and then put those in the microwave to cook for several minutes with a lid to keep the steam inside. While those were cooking, he peeled and chopped onions and thinly sliced a couple celery stalks. I showed him how to sauté the onions and celery in olive oil and butter. While we left those to caramelize, we got the clams, juice, milk, cream and a bay leaf added into a big pot to start heating. Once the potatoes were mostly cooked, and the onions had gotten near browned and translucent he added them to the mixture, brought the pot to a boil and then put it on low.

"We'll need to let this go for an hour or more. I generally like to do a couple hours. It'll need to be stirred every ten to fifteen minutes, so that it won't stick, but that's all there is to it," I told him.

"Thanks Ava. Do you have a recipe for this?"

"Yeah, it's on my laptop. I'll get you a copy before you go back home," I assured him. "For now, I'm going to go read a little. You can do the same. If we take turns stirring, it should be fine, alright?"

"Yes, this kind of weather is perfect for studying," he smiled a crooked smile.

I mussed his hair, "Don't study so hard you forget to stir."

"Yes Ma'am," he said and headed for his room.

I went to mine and picked up my novel. Maybe it wasn't a total rag, but it would have been considered smut fifty years ago. There were some books that I'd simply stopped reading when they were terrible, but I disliked leaving things unfinished. I was pretty sure I knew where this one was going and I kind of wanted to read all the lusty details as I plunged myself back into it.

At the end of the chapter, I went to the kitchen to stir the pot. I was pleasantly surprised to see Tim had already done so. I could tell, because the spoon I'd used earlier had been rinsed off and returned to the stir-spoon cozy on the stove. It tickled me a little, because April was a clean freak about stuff like that, while I just did things like Mom had.

After a few rounds of reading chapters and stirring, I eventually ran into Tim coming out of the kitchen.

"So how do we know when it's done?"

"Well technically, it was done shortly after it boiled. What we're waiting for is the potatoes to cook a bit more and the flavors to mix. We'll add seasoning toward the end to flavor to get the taste profile we want."

"Like pepper and salt?"

"Yes, but sometimes garlic powder and onion powder. Some people like to add Old Bay or bacon bits. This is your deal, so you're going to pick those final flavors as we taste."

"So, is it close?" he asked.

"Are you hungry?" I asked.

"A little," he said sheepishly.

We went back in the kitchen and I took out some tasting spoons. After he tasted it, he thought it needed salt and pepper for sure and maybe some garlic powder. He ground and mixed those things in and we had another tasting. This time he thought maybe a little chipotle, which surprised me, but I agreed.

The last tasting he said, "I think that's it."

"I don't know how you knew what my secret ingredient was," I told him.

"Hmm, I guess great minds think alike," he answered. "Can we eat, or should we wait a little more?" he asked anxiously.

"We could eat it now if you're starving, but it'll be even better in about ten minutes."

"Okay, I can wait ten minutes," he said but stayed in the kitchen this time.

I remained there with him. He was somewhat excited about making the chowder, but there was something else going on with him. I just couldn't tell what it was and hoped it wasn't the books or what we'd done.

After Ava taught me how to make clam chowder, it seemed the hard part was waiting for it to cook. We each went off to our rooms to read and take turns stirring while the rain continued coming down. It clacked on her metal roof and calmed me while I looked through the books she'd gotten me. I say looked, because one was full of pictures with captions. The other was shorter and while directly to the point, had a more clinical feeling to it although the parts I read were funny. I wondered if men really thought women smelled bad or like fish. I didn't have a large sample size, but it'd never smelled like anything other than desirable to me.

In the back of my mind, her gifts seemed like they could carry any number of meanings. They were definitely giving me some information and that was valuable. I was sure they'd been chosen because of my comments about not having much experience, but there was another possibility. Did she want me to stop looking to her for experience? Or maybe she wanted me to be better with her. But then again there might not have been any hidden meaning. She was a teacher, and these almost felt like textbooks.

Back in the kitchen, we met up when we both arrived to stir the pot again. I was feeling pretty hungry despite not having done much today. I'd been alternating stirring with reading and thinking for nearly two hours. Tomorrow I would be nineteen and even though I was happy about being here, I missed my folks a little. On top of that, I was worrying about Candy coming back with Sibyl. As we waited the final few minutes for the spices we'd mixed in, my mood went a little wonky.