Class Mom

“Okay. Bye!” He jumps off Ron’s lap and away from my screen.

Ron looks surprised. “That was easy.”

“Only till he gets out of the bath and realizes I’m not on the computer anymore.”

He lets out a big sigh. “He really misses you. We all do.”

I’d be flattered, but I know that most of what they miss is everything I do for them. I’m not being cynical. I just know my customers.

“I miss you guys, too. It’s so damn quiet here. How did everyone ski today?”

“Great! Well, except for Travis. I don’t think he’s ever skied before.”

“Oh, no! Did he take a lesson?”

“Actually, Vivs is a pretty good teacher. She got him up and going, and then we each took an hour with him on the bunny hill. Max loved that he wasn’t the slowest one on the hill. He insisted on teaching Travis pizza and french fries.”

He’s referring to the way instructors teach little kids how to snowplow and slalom. I can just picture him.

“Please make sure he’s bundled up tomorrow. You’ll never keep him out there if he’s cold.”

“I will. I promise. How’s your ’gines?”

“Getting there. I’m walking pretty well, but getting up and down is still a bitch. I think Garth is going to give me some light stretches to do later this week.”

“Just take it easy, please.”

“I will. Give the girls my love.” I blow a kiss to the screen. “Love you.”

“Love you, too,” Ron answers, and then the screen goes black.

*

“Just a little more, Jen. Take a deep breath. You’re doing great.”

Garth and I have reached a new level of intimacy. He is doing something called Thai massage on me. We are currently on the rug in my living room; Garth is sitting snugly behind me with his arms wrapped around my arms, which are wrapped around my torso. Allegedly, he is stretching me using his own body to enhance the stretch, but I can’t help feeling like this is a joke he and Nina cooked up.

I take yet another deep breath as Garth gently releases me from the “stretch.” I actually feel really good, so I try to override the feelings of weirdness that keep popping up. It doesn’t help that Nina is sitting right in front of us, watching and no doubt having threesome fantasies.

“Wow. That felt great. Thank you.” I look at Nina. “Has he done this to you?”

She smirks. “He does me a little differently.”

Garth blushes and stands up. “Okey-dokey. That should really help with your stiffness, Jen.”

“Does it help with your stiffness, Garth?” I ask with as straight a face as I can muster. Nina bursts out laughing.

“You two are lethal. My gosh, five days together and you have your pay-per-view special all scripted.”

“You should hear what we say when you’re not here,” I kid.

“No, thanks. I don’t think I could take it and I was in the military.”

Nina stands, too. “What time do you think they’re going to get here?” She’s asking about our intrepid skiers, who are due back this afternoon.

“Ron says…” I grab for my phone and check my texts. “ETA is around six, assuming they land on time. Do you guys want to stay for dinner? We can order in.”

“No, thanks,” they say in unison. Nina continues: “I want to get Chyna home and unpacked. But you guys should be able to have a major leftover binge with all the stuff I’ve cooked this week.”

“You are a rock star. I can’t thank you enough.” I really mean it. Nina and I had so much fun—actually, just the right amount of fun. I needed this week of convalescence, but now I’m totally ready to have my Dixon men back.





20

You can imagine how thrilled I am to be touring the Elbow Chocolate factory on this fine April morning. Oh, I got my three volunteers from the email I sent out, so I figured I was home free. That is, until Trudy Elder called me this morning to back out … something about Zach having Coxsackie. Oh, isn’t that convenient. Hey, lady, some of us just suck it up and honor our commitments.

So here I stand in a hell that involves a still-sore groin, the futility of making chocolate bunnies, and the torture of those sweet sirens (milk and dark) being created right in front of my face. I have said, “No, thank you,” at least ten times to samples passed my way. I wish there was a Nobel Prize for self-denial.

The kids are having a ball watching chocolate turn into bunnies. I guess I suffer from a tragic lack of curiosity, because I have never wondered how they make the hollow ones, but it’s actually knowledge I am now happy to have.

Our guide this morning is Jacques (effectively morphed from his real name, Jack, to make our chocolatier experience that much more exotic) and he has already showed us how to pour just the right amount of chocolate into the bunny mold and then twist it around until all the sides are evenly covered and there is no excess chocolate, all while flirting with Miss Ward in a disturbingly obvious way. I mean, jeez, there are kids watching! Enough with the double entendres, Jacques.

Joining me on my chocolate journey this morning are Jill Kaplan and JJ Aikens, who was much friendlier than I expected when I showed up instead of Trudy.

She and I are standing on the periphery of the chocolate inner circle and have a distant but effective view of the Jacques show.

“Now, who wants a solid bunny tail to bite into?” he asks the children in an accent that can only have been acquired by watching Maurice Chevalier movies and spending time in North Dakota. We see him wink at Miss Ward, and she giggles.

“Can you believe her?” JJ says out of the side of her mouth, in case there are any lip-readers in the vicinity.

“Well, they’ve definitely got a little something going on,” I counter in a low voice.

“Uh, yeah, they do. How do you think we got this private tour?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I hear she’s sleeping with him!” JJ side-talks to me again.

“Are you sure?” I turn to see if she is kidding.

“Well, I wasn’t there, but Kim told me.”

“Was she there?”

I’m rewarded with a barking laugh from JJ. That’s a first.

“You never know.” JJ sounds a little bitter.

I’m trying to play catch-up with all this new info being launched my way. Jacques and Miss Ward are having a fling, and Kim Fancy knows all about it. Kim Fancy who (and I wouldn’t believe it if I hadn’t seen it) slapped Miss Ward across the face two months ago. I need to know more. I regard JJ and wonder just how much truth serum she has taken today.

“I haven’t seen you and Kim together much lately,” I fish with small bait.

JJ looks at me like I’m a drink of water in the desert. “Thank you! I know. I feel very pushed aside.”

“Pushed aside by who?” I fake genuine concern. “Miss Ward?”

“What? No,” she scoffs. “By her training.”

“Her training?”

“Yeah. She’s spent the last few months training to do a mud run this month.”

Mud run? I get a little sick to my stomach.

“She’s obsessed with it. She’s working with a trainer and everything.”

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