Place called Home

School of Improper Education

It's barely dawn and I am already sitting in Sam's office. This has become my routine for more than a week during this school holidays. It is the only time we can be together.

I look after Luke and keep him entertained in the afternoons. Sam joins us in the evenings and we spend time with each other as a family. He has to work in the night but he comes to me during his midnight lunch break. He eats and we talk or cuddle together. We sometimes have make out sessions but there is no time for much else. He also has this weird rule about not doing any hanky-panky in my room.

Early morning is also the quietest time in the block. The night visitors have left. The day visitors will come later. The businesses in the area either close down or have a change of shift where the higher number of night time employees are replaced by a skeleton crew of daytime staff. Another advantage for me is that Luke is sleeping snug in his bed at this time with Alice in the second bedroom.

I can cross the bridge without many people being privy to it. Besides by now I have come here so many times that I have stopped being self-conscious about it.

I prefer to work rather than twiddling my thumbs. I have plenty of things to keep me occupied. School reports are due on the first week of the school.

Preparation of school reports is slow going process. I have to be honest but positive about the students. I have hauled all the work my students have done in the first term as well as the notes I have made. I read through each students work and refer to my notes. I try to find sincere, insightful and good things to write about each student. It's a very good exercise for my creative writing skills.

I am sitting on the chair that Sam brought in his office just for me. I am typing on my laptop with reading glasses perched on my nose.

Reading glasses are a recent addition to my wardrobe. Going through all the kindergarten handwriting started to give me headaches. The optometrist could not find anything wrong with my eyes. He advised me not to strain my eyes too much, but reading through Emily's microscopic handwriting is going to strain my eyes.

As usual Sam made many jokes about me complaining headaches when I was with him. The man likes to tease me all the time. He should close down his business and start doing stand up comedy for a living. He jokingly suggested that I should get a reading glasses to look like a schoolmarm.

I took on the suggestion as a counter attack strategy. I went to him dressed in the most prim and proper buttoned down clothes that I could find. I tied my hair in a tight bun and placed the glasses perched on my nose.

He was bowled over by my getup. He literally pounced on me as soon as he saw me. We barely made to the bedroom on that day. The glasses stayed, however all my other props were rejected very soundly.

Unfortunately my prim and proper clothing is in shreds. I know if I wear something similar it will join the rag pile too. I can create the tight bun again with my hair but it won't have the same effect without the clothes. I am not even sure I want to get that reaction from Sam again. Lets just say I want to be able to walk properly during the day.

Sam's reaction aside I have found the glasses to be useful. They do relieve my headache somewhat so it's just not all for the show.

Sam enters in the office and greets me in his usual manner with a brush on my lips. This time is the most awkward for me. We both know why I am here but I keep the pretence of coming here to get some work done. Most times he lets me keep my charade till I am willing to concede the defeat. Few times he becomes impatient and drags me to the bedroom. We play many games like this with each other.

For example he intentionally acts in the most chauvinist way possible just to rile me then spreads his extra thick charm for my benefit. I am getting better at this game. At first all he had to do was give me a passionate kiss with some empty compliment on how I look beautiful when angry. Now he has to work harder at trying to fix his gaffe. Sometimes my anger is just a sham and he knows it too but we both enjoy the making up part so no one complains.