During the second week of January, after the holidays were over and we were back in school, it was time for the annual midyear parent-teacher conferences. That was always a busy night for our mom because she had three children attending the school and had to spend at least some time with all our different teachers.
We didn’t look forward to it either, because it meant that the following night we had our own conference at home with our mother. She would make sort of a ritual out of it each time, bringing home dinner and then after we ate asking us kids to do the dishes while she got things set up in the dining room.
By now you’ve probably noticed that our mom was an exceptionally loving and affectionate parent — while also being a parent who could be extremely strict about the specific rules she laid down. One of those rules was doing your very best in school. If she ever heard anything from our teachers that she thought was a valid criticism of us or our efforts, she would be adamant about getting a commitment from us to correct the faulty behavior, whatever that might be.
We finished cleaning up, and then joined our mother in the dining room. The notes she’d taken during her meetings with our teachers were laid out before her.
“Good news, girls,” she began. “You’re all doing very well.”
I heard a sigh of relief from Kate, who typically had the most to fear. Although she was certainly bright enough to get good grades, her devotion to academics sometimes took second place to her love of athletics.
Mommy said, “Julie, the reports on you are uniformly excellent, as usual. I’m quite pleased. You’re doing fine, fine work in every subject. It really couldn’t be any better.”
She smiled at me.
I shifted in my seat, a little embarrassed to receive such high praise. Our mother could be stern when correcting our mistakes, but she could also be effusive when telling us we’d done well. It was very nice to hear, of course, but for some reason I always felt shy about being commended this way.
“I want to say too, dear, how grateful I am for the extra work you do here at home, looking out for your sisters, I mean, and helping with the cooking and so on. Of course, we all have to pitch in, we each have our jobs to do, but it means a great deal to me that I can count on you, that you take your responsibilities so seriously and complete them so well. I really appreciate that. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Mommy,” I mumbled, blushing.
“Also, I happened to be talking with one of the other moms, and she mentioned that she’s had trouble finding a good reliable babysitter for her kids. She has a 3-year-old and 5-year-old. Do you think you might be interested in that?”
“In what?”
“In babysitting. I told her, uh, Ms. Gallagher is her name, I told Ms. Gallagher about you, that I thought you could do an excellent job for her.”
“But — you think I’m old enough?” The sitters my mom hired for us had always been at least 14 years old.
“Yes, I do. It’s up to you, though. You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.”
“No, I, I guess I could. Sure, why not?”
“All right, that’s fine. I’ll call her and let her know you’re available.” She smiled at me again before turning to the next in line.
“Kate, good job so far this year, very good. You’re doing better this year than last in most areas, and I’m pleased with that. The only subject where I can see room for improvement is math. You got a B-minus on your last test. Do you think you can do better than that, or is the work too difficult for you?”
It was my sister’s turn to shift uncomfortably in her chair. “Um, no, it’s not, I mean, it’s not really that difficult. I just have to try a little harder, that’s all. I can do better at it, and um, I will. I promise.”
Mommy smiled at her. “I’m sure you can do better, sweetheart, and I know you will. Just give it your best, that’s all I ask. By the way, when I talked with your basketball coach, he couldn’t say enough about what a great teammate you are and how well you’re doing in practice. Your first game is Tuesday, next week, right?”
“Uh-huh,” Kate nodded.
“Good. We’ll all be there, cheering for you.”
My sister beamed with pride. “Awesome!”
“And now, Molly. Your teachers all love you, darling, just like I do. Well, maybe not quite as much as I do, but they all seem to love you anyway.” We chuckled when our mother said that.
“Your grades are very good, perfect so far, in fact, nothing but A’s. The only complaint anyone has is that sometimes you seem to get distracted, like your mind is wandering. Can you tell me what’s going on with that?”
“I don’t know.”
“What does it mean when you’re not paying attention in class? Why does that happen?”
“It just gets so boring,” Molly told her. “Like, like I already know all the stuff they’re saying, and I just start thinking about other stuff.”
“Does it happen in one subject more than in others? Or is it that way all the time?”
“I don’t know.”
“Okay, well, as long as your grades are good, that’s understandable. And if it’s any consolation, pumpkin, when I was your age, I was almost always bored in school too. Bored out of my mind.”
Mommy smiled, and so did we.
We knew, of course, that our mom had been a total whiz in school. She was one of those prodigies who graduated high school early, in her case when she was 16, and then flew through college. At 19, she received her bachelor’s degree. That was the same year she became pregnant, with me, and then got married (not long after her mother died, which is probably not a coincidence). She stayed in college, earning her master’s at age 21, and entered law school.
By the time she was 24 years old, she was a law school graduate — as well as, amazingly, the mother of three young children. Only two years after that, she was divorced. I don’t think you could say her life has been easy, but she sure has accomplished a lot.
“All right, girls, that wraps it up for this conference. Excellent work, each of you. Keep it up now, so when we do this the next time, in June, it’ll be all smiles again.”
We got up from the table, relieved that it was over. However, as Molly and Kate left the room, my mom took my hand, drawing me aside.
Uh-oh, I thought to myself. If there was ever anything really bad she had to say, she would almost always do that in private, not in front of the others. But what could she have to scold me about? I wracked my brain, trying to figure it out.
“Julie, honey, let’s sit down again for a minute. There’s something important we need to discuss.”
“What is it?” I’m sure my face was white.
My mother patted my hand. “Don’t worry, darling, it’s nothing bad, not at all. Quite the opposite.”
The school principal, it turned out, had informed my mom that I was being considered for recruitment by one of the country’s most prestigious private prep schools. The principal told her she’d been approached by this school and asked to recommend her top sixth or seventh grade student, someone they could evaluate with the possibility of someday making an offer of a scholarship. Mine was the name she gave them.
“Me?” I asked, astonished.
“Yes, you,” said my mom. “Do you know how well you did on the Nydegger Test, the one you took last September?”
“No. Did I do good?”
She smiled. “Only the highest score the school has seen in the past ten years, that’s all.”
“Really?”
“Uh-huh. But listen, honey, this, this prep school that might be coming after you — you’ll have to think about it very carefully. It could be a really wonderful opportunity, a chance to make a mark for yourself, meet some valuable people and get started toward a great career.”
She was frowning as she said that, though, not smiling any more.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Well, nothing’s wrong. It’s just…” There were tears in her eyes. “I’m so proud of you, Julie, so very proud. I want everything for you. I want you to have every opportunity there is, so you can grow up to be and do whatever you want, and… and…”
“And what, Mommy?”
She swallowed hard. “And even if it means that, that you decide to go away somewhere, like to this prep school up in New England, if it’s what you really want, if that’s the best thing for you, then you should do it.”
“Go away? But I couldn’t. Not ever.”
“Are you sure? Because this is not the sort of opportunity that comes along very often. I really think you ought to consider it.”
“No. No way, I’m not leaving you. I’m not gonna go away to some dumb school way up in who knows where. I never want to leave you and Kate and Molly…” Now I was in tears.
“Oh, Julie.” My mother got up from her seat, taking me into her arms, hugging me.
“Mommy, I don’t ever want to leave you,” I sobbed. “Please don’t make me go away.”
“I won’t, darling, I won’t, I promise.” She held me close, kissing my neck.
A few minutes later we walked from the dining room together, arm in arm, having dried our tears. We found my sisters in the family room, watching TV.
“Come on, Molly girl, it’s time for you to get in bed.” My mother held out her hand and Molly took it.
“Okay,” smiled my baby sister. She never seemed to complain when Mommy said she had to go to bed.
I sat on the sofa next to Kate and we watched them go upstairs and disappear into Molly’s room. Kate switched to a different channel, then to another one.
“What was all that crying about?” she asked, after a minute.
“Oh, nothing. Just, um, there’s this prep school in New England, somewhere near Boston, I think, and it’s some fancy big deal place you’re supposed to be totally impressed by. Anyway, they might want me to go up there starting in 9th grade, you know, for high school. But I don’t want to.”
“So why were you crying?”
I smiled at her, then laid my head on her shoulder. “Because of how sad I would be if I had to leave you and Molly and Mommy.”
I took her hand. She switched the remote to the other hand and changed channels again.
* * *
Later that night, as I lay in bed in the dark trying to fall asleep, I kept thinking about everything.
It was pretty cool, I realized, that such a prestigious school was interested in me and that our principal had recommended me to them. It made me feel proud. Of course, it didn’t change my attitude about going up there, if they ever really wanted me, that is. But it was awesome even to be considered.
And then, just for fun, I started to imagine what it might be like to attend a boarding school. Not that I would ever want to, but just for fun…
In my mind, I pictured a place with ivy on the walls and with lots of cute girls walking around wearing short plaid skirts. Just girls, of course, no boys. In my fantasy, this is a girls-only school. And all the teachers are women too, very pretty and sexy…
Yeah, that’s good, and let’s see, the girls at the school all sleep in one big room. At night, some of the girls will get out of their own beds and crawl in with other girls, and there is a lot of kissing and touching in the dark…
Ooh, and maybe at this particular school, they enroll not only high school students, but younger ones too, say, starting around the fourth grade, about 9 or 10 years old. The younger ones sometimes will notice the older girls getting up at night and climbing in bed with other girls and kissing, and so they get curious and they want to try it too, but they really need one of the older girls to show them how…
And let’s just suppose that I went to that school, and I was one of the older girls who was teaching the younger ones what to do. I would invite them to my bed at night and we would get naked together and I would look at their beautiful young bodies and touch them and kiss them and —
By that time I was climaxing in my bed as I conjured up this scenario.
It was another nice one to add to the long list of fantasies I used in my nightly sessions of masturbation… while I waited patiently for my mother to seduce me.
Continue on to Chapter 41
I think I’d like to be a teacher at that school.