“Nice of you to join me, Mr. Lazy Pants,” I said, as I grabbed his bowl off the floor and filled it with his breakfast. I set the bowl down on the floor and watched as he eyed it and then shot me an irritated look before finally hopping down and walking over to it. I reminded him, “Beggars really can’t be choosers, you know.”
As the coffee brewed, I set about making a full Saturday morning breakfast while I listened to the news. The Boston Celtics were playing a game tonight, and I was looking forward to kicking back on my couch and watching them increase their winning streak by one more game. Despite the fact that I always had work to do to prep or grade, I allowed myself complete freedom from work on Saturdays, and today was no exception.
I’d just flipped the last of the pancakes and pulled the crisp pan of bacon out of the broiler when Kendra knocked on the back door. I opened it and was surprised to find her standing on the back porch holding a bag full of groceries.
“What are you doing here so early?” I asked, taking the bag from her and peeking inside. It was full of fruit, vegetables, a carton of milk, and a variety of pastries. “What’s this for?”
“I’m working all weekend and then leave on Monday morning bright and early,” she said. “Thought you might be able to do something with these.”
“Indeed I can!” I said, as she walked over and poured herself a cup of coffee then rooted around in the bag and pulled out the milk. “Good thing you brought that; I used the last of mine on the pancakes. Want some breakfast?”
“Yeah, sure, I could eat something,” she said, as she ran a hand through her curly dark hair and shrugged off her coat and tossed it into the living room. “You want some help?”
“Yeah, grab some forks and napkins; we’ll eat in front of the television,” I said, as I put the food on plates and grabbed a bottle of syrup out of the cupboard.
We sat down on the couch and I flipped on ESPN as Kendra doused her pancakes in syrup. We ate in silence as the commentators ran through the results of all the sports events the night before, and cheered silently as they, again, announced that the Celtics were leading the NBA and looked like they might win the championship this year.
“How are the kids?” Kendra asked, as she leaned ran her finger around the edge of the plate and then offered her finger to Howard, who had jumped up between us and was now acting like we didn’t exist. He sniffed Kendra’s finger, blinked once, and then turned and walked away. KO laughed. “Wow, picky little bastard, isn’t he?”
“He’s his own person,” I said, as Howard curled up at the far end of the couch and licked his paw before putting his head down and closing his eyes. “The kids are good. I met with one of my students’ fathers this week.”
“Oh yeah? Helicopter parent come to read you the riot act about his precious angel?” she asked dryly.
“No, actually he was a divorced dad who came to find out why his daughter is failing history,” I said, wondering if I wanted to tell KO just how hot Blake Gaston was.
“Was he hot?” she asked, cutting through my question.
“Unbelievably,” I said, grinning as I fanned myself.
“Why didn’t you ask him out?”
“KO! Are you kidding? That would violate about ten of the clauses in my teaching contact!” I protested.
“You have got to be kidding me,” she shot back. “That’s utter bullshit. I mean, I can see you not dating students, but their parents? Bullshit.”
“Well, I don’t think there’s a specific rule against dating a parent,” I admitted. “But it would feel weird to date a student’s dad, don’t you think?”
“I don’t know, Em,” KO said, as she leaned back and laced her fingers behind her head. “We live in Waltham; it’s a small freakin’ town, and there are a limited number of eligible men around here. My theory is that if you like him and he likes you, you should go for it!”
“I have no idea if he likes me,” I admitted. “I just can’t stop thinking about him, but there’s no way I’m going to just call him up and ask him out.”
“What’s he do?”
“Firefighter,” I said.
“Oooh! That means he probably comes into the Clover!” KO said perking up. “You should come in and watch the game tonight! Maybe you’ll run into him! No harm, no foul if you meet him out on the town, my friend.”
“You’re so bad,” I laughed.
“We’re going to have the Celtics game on the big screen,” she teased. “And the drinks are two-for-one until 9!”
“Fine! Fine! I’ll come sit on a stool at the bar and watch the basketball game while you work,” I laughed. “How pathetic is that?”
“It’s only pathetic if you stay home and watch the game with your cat,” KO said. Howard opened one amber eye and looked at her disdainfully before rolling over and going back to sleep.
That evening, I put on jeans and my Celtics jersey in anticipation of the game.
“Sorry, buddy,” I said, as I flipped off the space heaters. From his spot curled up on the couch, Howard lifted his head, blinked once, and then curled back up and ignored me. “Can’t leave these things on if I’m not around. Stay curled up. I’ll turn them back on when I get home, okay?”