The Education of Sebastian & the Education of Caroline (21 page)

After a moment, Shirley stood up. “I’ll just go check on the boys.”

Donna exhaled deeply and looked at me. “Are you okay, Caroline?”

I nodded, still feeling shaken. Did Estelle
know?

“That wasn’t really about you,” Donna continued, “she’s just jealous.”

“Jealous? Of what?”

Donna smiled sadly. “Never mind, it doesn’t matter. Now, what were those questions you had?”

I shook my head. “They seem rather insignificant now.” I stared at the sodden sheets of newsprint that some helpful children were fishing out of the pool.

“Please ask me,” said Donna. “I need something to get my mind off that awful scene.”

We chatted about our shared experiences of living on different bases for several minutes, before Shirley reappeared.

“How’s Sebastian?” said Donna, her concern evident. “Did you see Estelle?”

“Ches and Sebastian got her into the car; he’s driving her home.”

She shook her head. “If there are any more incidents like that, Estelle will have her membership suspended.”

“I’ll speak to Johan,” said Donna. “Maybe he’ll be able to persuade her to … seek some help. She won’t be the first Navy wife to ... well, she won’t be the first.”

A subdued Ches returned with some orange juices. Shirley rubbed his arm and they swapped brief smiles. It was refreshing to see the close relationship they had—especially after the unpleasant scene that had played out between Estelle and Sebastian.

I bit my tongue as Ches went back to work—I wanted to ask him if Sebastian was okay, but I couldn’t.

I turned my attention to finishing my article, as Donna had suggested.

Shirley was incredibly helpful, offering fascinating insights into the world of the military wife.

“Of course, it’s hard leaving friends behind, and hard for Chester starting new schools every couple of years, but it’s made us closer as a family, too. And the Marine Corps is a second family; we’re all pretty tight. It’s made Chester good at making friends and he’s a very resourceful boy, very self-sufficient. But we did make sure that his last four years of high school were consistent—we felt that was important for his education. I like traveling and the challenge of new places—new countries. To be honest, I’m dreading the day when Mitch retires: I don’t know what he’ll do with himself. He’s so used to the structure and routine of the Marines, I’m not sure how well either of us will adapt to civilian life.

“But what about you, Caroline? If David decided to quit the Navy, what would you do?”

I twitched uncomfortably, not wanting to have the spotlight turned on me.

“I don’t think his routine would change that much: he’d still work in a hospital; still work his clinics. It wouldn’t make that much difference. Just a different sort of uniform.”

Donna smiled. “Yes, you’re right. Medicine imposes its own set of regulations and routines. Being the wife of a doctor isn’t such a huge leap.”

I’d enjoyed talking to Donna and Shirley—it had been a lot like having friends—but I realized the sun had shifted in the sky and I leapt up.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I have to get back and pack for David. He’s taking everything with him to the hospital tomorrow morning. I have a mountain of ironing to do.”

Shirley laughed and Donna smiled sympathetically.

I thanked them again and waved quickly.

CHAPTER 10

David managed to find fault with everything that evening: my cooking, the clothes I’d packed for him, the way I’d ironed his shirt and pants; probably even the amount of air I was inconveniently breathing.

I tried to think if he’d always been so difficult. I honestly couldn’t remember.

He was particularly annoyed because I refused to come to bed with him, insisting instead on finishing up with my interview notes. During his bombastic huffing, I realized that he didn’t have a coping mechanism for dealing with my refusal—he wasn’t used to it and he didn’t know how to handle it. The thought was oddly liberating.

When he left the next morning, he didn’t even ask how I was planning to spend my weekend. Not that ‘screwing the brains out of my young lover in your bed’ would have figured high on my list of responses to that particular question, but I did think he might have pretended to take an interest.

I’d had one brief text from Sebastian simply saying that he was looking forward to the weekend. He hadn’t answered when I’d asked if he was okay.

I spent the day writing and also took a moment to look up possible photography classes I could take at NYU. Carl Winters had praised my snaps—it made me wonder if I could take that side of my work further.

During the afternoon, Donna telephoned to invite me to supper. I appreciated her kindness but I wasn’t going to be as alone as she thought. I simply told her I was enjoying the peace and quiet—she understood at once, checking only that I’d be at the annual Base picnic on Sunday.

I felt strangely nervous. I hadn’t seen Sebastian since yesterday’s ugly scene; it was also the first time that we’d been able to plan to be together for more than a few hours.

It was nearly midnight when I heard his light tap on the backdoor. I’d been dozing on the couch while I waited for him to finish his shift at the country club.

I made sure the kitchen light was off before I unlocked the door.

“Hi.”

“Hi, yourself.”

We stood staring at each other: he frowned slightly.

“Can I come in?”

“Of course.”

I stood back to allow him to pass, then I closed the door and locked it again. When I turned around he was still staring at me.

“I want to kiss you,” he said, sounding uncertain.

“Do you?”

I didn’t know why there was so much tension between us.

“Caro, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing: just kiss me.”

He hesitated for less than a second then slowly walked forward. He held the palm of his hand against my cheek and lowered his face to me. He kissed me twice, his mouth lightly touching mine, then he wrapped his arms around my waist and leaned down to rest his forehead against mine.

“I’ve missed you,” he whispered.

I smiled and felt my body relax.

“Have you?”

“Yes.” He pulled me in more tightly. “I’m really sorry about yesterday, about … what my mom said.”

I straightened up abruptly and his hands dropped to his sides as he gazed at me warily. We needed to have this conversation—now.

“Does she know? About you and me?”

He shook his head vehemently. “Of course not!”

I looked into his eyes. “Because she said some things that made me think she did.”

Sebastian looked horrified.

“What did she say?”

I shrugged.

“Please!”

I let out a long sigh, closing my eyes against the unpleasant memory.

“She said I’d been ‘flaunting’ myself and that I wasn’t ‘pure’, that she
knew better
. Sebastian, what does she know? She must know something or why would she have put it like that?”

He ran his hands over his hair looking angry and upset, but stayed resolutely silent.

“For God’s sake, tell me!”

My voice was louder than I’d intended.

He blinked and looked away. “I promise she doesn’t know anything, Caro. It’s just that…”

He paused.

“Just what?”

“Just some shit my dad was talking. It’s nothing.”

“Tell me!” I said forcefully.

Sebastian looked at me angrily.

“My dad said you were a hot piece of tail and that you wouldn’t be such an uptight bitch if
your husband
had been fucking you properly.”

I felt sick.

I walked to the kitchen sink, and leaned over it.

“Is that … is that what people think of me?” I murmured.

“No! God no! My father is an asshole, Caro. No one thinks that. Mitch, Bill, Ches—they all think you’re great. I mean, yeah, they think you’re gorgeous, who wouldn’t? But I promise they’ve never
ever
said anything like that.”

I straightened up slowly and turned around to face him. He was standing with his arms out-stretched as if he wanted to touch me but was afraid to.

“Are you hungry?”

He was confused by the sudden change of topic, away from my self-flagellation.

“Hungry?”

“Yes. Did you eat at the club tonight?”

His hands fell to his side and for a second he closed his eyes tiredly, before walking toward me and taking me into his arms.

I tried to resist, still raw from his father’s words.

“Caro, don’t push me away.”

He wrapped his arms around my shoulders and held me.

“I’m sorry, okay. I’m sorry I told you what that asshole said. Hell, you should hear what he calls me sometimes … well, maybe not. I don’t listen anymore. All that matters is that we’re together, okay?”

I didn’t answer.

“Okay?” he said again, more forcefully.

I took a deep breath.

“Okay,” I agreed, quietly.

He kissed my hair and smiled down at me.

We stood there for some minutes, just enjoying a moment of peace.

“So, are you hungry?” I said at last. “Did you eat tonight?”

He rolled his eyes at me and I had to smile.

“No, we were slammed—I didn’t have time.”

“I’ll fix you something to eat: linguini, pesto and pine nuts okay?”

“You don’t have to cook for me, Caro,” he said frowning slightly.

“I want to. Besides, you haven’t eaten … and you’ll need your energy.”

I grinned up at him and he gave in with good grace.

“Well, in that case, yeah, I’m starving.”

He pulled out a chair and sat at the table watching me.

“So, how was work? Anything interesting happen today?”

I was determined that we would have some normal conversation.

“I did that First Aid training certificate this morning. It was all stuff I’d done at the surf lifesaving club, so it was pretty easy. I’ll be mostly working poolside with Ches from now on.”

“You don’t like waiting tables?”

“Not so much: I’d rather be outside.”

“Are you sure it’s not just a chance to impress bored, horny Navy wives with your gorgeous body?”

“There’s only one woman I want to impress,” he said, returning my smile.

“How’s that going for you?”

“Well, it was a bit touch-and-go for a while, but she’s making me dinner, so I guess it’s going okay. How was your day?”

“Good. I finished another article and have planned out three more. I was afraid I might run out of material, but I’ve got enough ideas to write a whole book, I think. Oh, and I looked up some photography courses at NYU. Have you decided which classes you want to take in the Spring?”

When he didn’t answer, I looked up from the chopping board—Sebastian was sitting, rocking back on the chair, a huge smile on his face.

“What?”

“I love it when you talk like that?”

It was my turn to be confused.

“Like what?”

“When you’re talking about stuff we’re going to do together: about our future.”

I dropped the torn basil leaves and looked directly at him.

“Sebastian, I didn’t
have
a future until you got me thinking about one. God knows how long I’d have carried on drifting. But you have to promise me something…”

“Anything: I’ll promise you anything.”

I took a deep breath.

“I want you to promise me that when you … when you start thinking about a different future … without me…”

His expression changed and his eyes darkened with anger.

“Jesus, Caro! How can you say that to me?”

“No, please! Let me finish. We can’t ignore our age difference and one day, when it starts to … change things, I’ll understand. I don’t want us to sink into indifference and dislike. Been there, done that. When you decide to go, just … just give me some notice. That’s all I ask.”

He stared back.

I was glad I’d said it—I’d needed to say it, but Sebastian looked really angry.

“Caro, don’t you understand how I feel about you? I love you: you’re all I want. I want a future with you—I want our lives to be together. I’m not a kid—I’ve had to grow up fast. I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time now. And I want to take care of you.”

“I’m just saying that I’ll understand when that changes.”

“Don’t patronize me, Caro,” he said, sounding even angrier. “You think I don’t know what it means to make this commitment, but I do. You think I’m giving up everything and that I’ll regret it later, but you’re wrong. I’ve seen what a bad marriage is like; I’ve seen how miserable my parents have been. But when I’m with you, I feel … so incredibly happy, like the world is worth it after all. I know how rare that is; I’ve
seen
how rare that is. Don’t dismiss how I feel just because … just because I’m younger than you. You’re beautiful and kind and talented and you have a gift … people are drawn to you—and you don’t even see it. And it’s just one of the things I love about you.”

I sighed, feeling his anguish in every word.

“And what about children, Sebastian?”

He blinked several times.

“What about children?”

“Well, do you really want to be saddled with children when you’re twenty? No, I don’t imagine you do. Well, what about when you’re in your thirties and you like the idea of having a couple of kids running around the house and I’ll be in my late forties and
too old
.”

He shrugged, trying to look casual but I could tell that he was rattled.

“If you want kids we can have kids.”

I smiled sadly and shook my head.

“It doesn’t work like that, Sebastian: we’d both have to want them—and time isn’t on our side. Do you see what I’m saying?”

“Yes, I see what you’re saying—and I see what you’re doing: you’re trying to think of every reason under the sun why we shouldn’t be together. But none of that matters—if you want to be with me.” He took a deep breath. “Do you, Caro?”

I sighed. I wanted him more than air, but I had to make him think,
really think
, about what we were doing.

“Sebastian, how long do you think these
physical
feelings will last? Six months? A year? Two, if we’re lucky. And then what? What about when you make friends at college and you introduce them to your
older
girlfriend? What about…”

But he interrupted me.

“None of that matters. And I think you’re wrong anyway—I can’t imagine not wanting you—not ever. You’re smart and funny and I enjoy being with you even when we don’t … when we’re not … making love. When I was eight years old, I used to imagine that you were my girlfriend and that we’d run away together. And then you left and I’d lost my best friend, too. I used to dream about you coming back. As I got older, I … I began to understand the … the nature of my feelings for you better. I didn’t think dreams could come true—but they have for me, Caro. Why are you so scared? I mean, forget all that legal bullshit … why do you keep trying to … I don’t know, make me change my mind? What do you think I’ve got here that I wouldn’t give up in a heartbeat to be with you? There’s nothing to keep me here. I’ll go anywhere, do anything to be with you.” He sighed. “I know you have more to lose and I hate,
hate
that I’m responsible for that, but … do you want to be with me? Forever. Sempre.”

I didn’t have any words of opposition or defiance left in me. The future was unwritten: maybe
one day I would be too old for him and he would leave me—it seemed inevitable. But wouldn’t two or three years of love be worth having, regardless? I knew my marriage was over: it had been over for a long time before I’d met Sebastian—I’d just been too much of a coward to admit it.

Was I prepared to take a chance on the future … a chance on love? I looked into his lovely face, tension and fear and anxiety holding him rigid. I thought again about the question he’d asked me: did I want to be with him?