My Tutor

by Chris Okum

May be an image of one or more people, people playing sports and outdoorsTired of being under his father's thumb, Bobby decided to leave home and move in with his tutor, Terry, an older woman of considerable pulchritude who had helped him pass French and who had also taken his virginity. Unable to provide Bobby with the chi-chi lifestyle he was accustomed to, Terry did her best to acclimate the young man to his newfangled lower-middle class existence, but to no avail. Bobby acted sullen, refused to get a job, and complained incessantly about matters both big ("I was supposed to go to an Ivy League school and now you want me to attend a community college!" Bobby shrieked at Terry while they were shopping a local supermarket for bargain cuts of steak), and small ("This is polyester and polyester makes me sweat and when I sweat I stink!" Bobby shrieked at Terry when she told him they couldn't afford to shop at the boutique men's clothing stores on Rodeo Drive anymore). Terry had never made the connection between Bobby's proxy wealth and his virility, but now that the first had been taken away, so, apparently, had the second. Sex between the two, which had always been revelatory and toe-curling, was now rote and passionless. Bobby began to feel less like a boyfriend to Terry and more like a son. When Bobby was caught stealing a filet mignon from a local high-end grocery store ("I can't stand skirt steak!" Bobby shrieked at Terry when she came to pick him up at the Police Station. “It's too chewy!”) Terry could see that life with Bobby was going to be a constant forge. Now that the buff, shiny boy she had fallen in love with was no longer available to her, Terry became disinterested and ready to pursue a relationship with a professional man. It was time to cut Bobby loose, send him home, back to his father, back to his life of fresh cashmere V-neck sweaters and lazy days sitting by the pool, sipping iced tea. Terry dropped Bobby off at the gate of his father's estate and watched as the young man walked up the endless driveway, his head down and hands shoved in the pockets of his generic brand corduroy pants. As soon as Terry was out of sight Bobby let out a deep, long sigh and inhaled - for the first time in months - clean, rich air. Between the woman he loved and the material comfort he craved the first, apparently, never stood a chance against the second. Bobby didn't know what would.