When Love Clocked In

“Bye, guys,” Spencer’s voice was loud and mighty as he was still on the endorphin kick from the Taco Bell. He turned and his front door was staring him in the face. From the first day they moved in, about six years ago, he had noticed the face that the knots in the wood made. It stared blankly, as if waiting for a response. Spencer didn’t have one. He just got up the courage to reach out to the rusty, metal doorknob and enter his own house.

He was desperate to not make too much noise. He slipped off his shoes and crept slowly towards his bedroom in the corner of the one floor, two bedroom home. He didn’t want any questions tonight. He just wanted to finish his homework and go straight to-

“Spencer!” his mom called from the kitchen. “Is that you?”

He let out a sigh. His cover was blown. “Yes, Mom.” He stood in the hallway, face towards the ceiling. Eyes fluttered closed and hope pumping through his veins that she wouldn’t-

“Well, come in here! Let me talk to you.”

Fuck. Spencer went to the kitchen. He stood in the doorway, arms crossed and face distant. She was reading her latest PETA newsletter in the breakfast nook with a mug of green tea to her side. The sun was setting behind her head and every little frazzled hair was showing in the light.

The one thing that Spencer absolutely loved about his mom is her inability to fit in. She was the environmental science teacher at the school, a sworn vegetarian, happy electric car owner, and certified green freak. Spencer tried to follow the necessary customs like supporting her in getting their house fitted with solar panels and wearing the mostly organic cotton clothes that she’d buy him. He had his faults in her program, though. He had an inability to stay away from meat. What she doesn’t know, won’t hurt her right? Like the fact that he consumes meat almost every day behind her back? Yeah, she’ll know eventually but not today.

“Come sit down, silly,” she said pointing at the seat across from her at the nook, but not looking up from her paper.

Spencer sighed, trying to act really annoyed. He crossed the kitchen and took the seat. Folding his hands together and tilting his head to the right at her. He was such a smart ass to her. But she knew he loved her.

She pulled of her glasses and put the reading material down. She eyes looked alive and wild with excitement, “Get ready to call me the best mother ever.” She wriggled the pointy nose that Spencer had inherited.

“What now?” Spencer rolled his eyes, dramatically. She was always trying to do things for him that he never wanted. Signing him up for volunteer hours and getting him tutoring sessions with his pedophile of a pre-calc teacher.

“I got you… a job,” she hit the table with her flat hand. The slap echoed through the room, filling the silence.

Spencer sighed. He was adjusting his mind to expect the worst. What would it be now? Counting bird species at the preserve? Dressing up like a jackrabbit for Species Awareness Day at the zoo? He took in a deep breath and closed his eyes, “Where?”

“At the Starbucks downtown,” she laughed.

Spencer opened one eye and breathed again,” Seriously?” Starbucks wasn’t a bad eco-job. That was actually a really cool normal job.

His mom nodded, “Yep. I went in there this afternoon to put up flyers for the new Haunted Desert thing I’m doing down at the preserve for Halloween and I ran into one of my old students. He’s the shift manager down there and I was curious so I asked if they were hiring. He said yes and said he’d be happy to hire you. You just have to fill out some paperwork and get your uniform and you’re good to go!”

“Wow. Thanks, mom. You actually got me a cool job this time,” Spencer smiled, shocked by his good luck.

“What are you talking about? I always get you the best jobs,” his mom slapped his arm playfully.

“Yeah. Sure,” Spencer smiled sarcastically.

“One more thing, though” his mom thinned her lips and fiddled with his glasses before looking back up at him. “The boy that was my student, his name’s Jon. You know, Spencer, he’s only two years older than you. He’s very cute, too.”

“Mom. I’m not gay. Face it. Stop trying to hook me up with dudes!” Spencer’s voice was firm.

“I’m not. I’m just trying to help you on the relationship scene,” Ms. Smith shrugged her shoulders, not looking at him.

“Yeah, but only when it comes to guys. Plus, why should I take relationship advice from a single mother?” Spencer gave a snarky, fake laugh and got up.

“Oh, Spencer,” she sighed, putting her glasses on and turning back to her newsletter. “Hey, are you ready to leave tomorrow?”

“I guess. I have to go finish packing, though.” He exited the kitchen and ran upstairs to his room, thinking how awesome this job would be. When he got up there, he opened the empty suitcase on the floor. He was going to Canada for the weekend for Thanksgiving. He was excited to go see the snow and be with his family, but he wasn’t all too thrilled about being away from his friends till Tuesday. He sighed, thinking that his friends could find something to do without him, even if it was just watching Brendon play piano.

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Canada was freezing. Spencer stayed at his aunt’s house. The funny thing about Spencer’s mom’s family is that they were nothing like Spencer’s mom. They were total conservative, deer hunters. This made it kind of hard for Spencer to socialize with his cousins, since all they talked about was hunting and snow mobiles. Spencer was alone in the tundra without cell phone reception, a drum set, or friends. The good thing though was it was only three days.

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When Spencer got back on Wednesday, he had a lot to do. It was the day of the concert in orchestra class, so his non-creepy student/teacher friendship allowed him to skip most of his classes and day dream in the music room. Being stuck in the Canadian snow was not the best daydreaming location. An empty music room though? That was a gift from the gods.

He thought about his lonely mother and her obsession with her son. Always trying to live vicariously through him whether it was taking those dance lessons that her mom could never afford, giving him so many opportunities to do green work for the community, living in sunny, hot Las Vegas instead of Canada, and trying to hook him up with guys that she would go for if she was his age. It used to creep him out but not anymore. He was kind of blind to it, now. He never noticed the way she acted when she was “showing him off.” Talking about his drumming and his good services to society. He never really picked up until later. When she said something about it, he’d just roll his eyes and crack a wise-ass joke. He daydreamed about his cool new job. How he’d have a girlfriend in no time. All the things he’d buy with his income.

The bell rang and students began flooding in for music class. Third block, already? The class settled themselves with their instruments in their chairs. Mr. Vandel got out from his coffee break and entered the room, grabbing his baton and tapping it repeatedly on the stand. It was Spencer’s one common thing in life. His mom was always getting new jobs and opportunities for him, but this one stayed true. He could always depend on Mr. Vandel to silence a room full of people and make something beautiful out of them.

Today, though, beauty isn’t what you would have called it. The class just wasn’t prepared at all for their concert tonight. Spencer was usually joined by another percussion player in the back, but the other guy called in sick today and said he couldn’t come. Spencer was alone and forced to learn new parts and even play two or more instruments at once. He could do it though, but the rest of the class was struggling. The New World Symphony by Dvorak was suppost breath of a new life and a busy-city environment but right now, it sounded like the death scene in Bambi.

Mr. Vandel cut them off again. “Spencer,” he looked towards the back of the room, “can you go get Mr. Urie and tell him we need him.”

Spencer nodded and went out the door towards the office. He found out that Brendon had European History. He knew Mr. Devins well from having his American History class last year. He went to the room and they were watching a documentary on the French Revolution. He saw Mr. Devins at the front of the class and walked up to him. “Hey, Mr. Devins!” his voice was in a whisper shout.

“Hello, Mr. Smith. How are you?” Mr. Devins had always liked him since he thought his mom hot. A definite pro of having a young mom that taught.

“I’m good. Mr. Vandel needs to see Brendon in his room, probably till the end of class,” Spencer smiled charismatically. He had carried the genes for intoxicating charm and a knock out smile from his father. Or so, his mother told him.

“Of course!” the teacher waved at Brendon, who was already staring because Spencer was there. “Mr. Smith, here, says that Mr. Vandel needs to see you. He said you should bring your books,” Mr. Devins took a seat at his desk again.

Brendon went to retrieve his books, clumsily, and then they escaped to the empty hallway, “Is Ryan or Mr. Vandel getting me out of class?”

Spencer laughed out loud, “Mr. Vandel. He needs your piano greatness for a moment.” Spencer led him to the music room and took his place in the back while Brendon talked to the teacher. He began to tune the three tympanis to E minor for the piece. He looked down to Brendon as he sat at the piano. Then, he looked to Mr. Vandel to start. They played through it one time before the bell rang and it did sound considerably better.

When Spencer got home, it was already 4:30. He did have a car, but his mom saw it unfit to ride two cars to and from school when they could be saving the gas and just take her electric. She needed to stay and grade papers, usually, so Spencer never got home before four.

He immediately went to his room and put on his black button-down and his fitted black pants, the concert attire. He was always in the back so it didn’t really matter what shoes he wore. He chose some tweed lace-up Vans. He gave himself a long look in the mirror. He felt good in the formal apparel. If spiffy wasn’t a completely ridiculous word, he would have used it. He ran his fingers over his hair. It was getting to long and was almost covering his ears completely. He reminded himself to get it cut. He sighed and without further ado, he was out the door. He had to go to Starbucks to fill out the paperwork, then, he would be off to the concert.

He got in his car and took the five minute drive downtown. The streets were less than crowded on this slow weekday afternoon. Spencer was glad for this. He wouldn’t have to do something embarrassing like wait in line to ask about the paperwork or disturb customers’ order. He went into the coffee shop which only had a few college kids on laptops. It reeked of rich, too dark coffee and Spencer already loved it. He went up to the counter. At work was Morgan Caledonia, a girl from Spencer’s Environmental class.

She saw him come up and her gray eyes lit up. “Hey,” she said smiling, so her lip piercing stuck out a bit, “Why are you here? Isn’t the orchestra concert tonight?” She ran her fingers through her brown wavy hair that grew to her middle back.

He shrugged his shoulders, “Yeah but I still have an hour to spare. Is your shift manager around cause my mom got me a job here and I needed to fill some paperwork?”

“No way! You got a job here? That’s great. You’ll love it. Jon’s a really cool guy,” she peered her head towards the back room. “Let me go get him.”

She disappeared into the back room. Spencer looked around his new office. It was quaint. It wasn’t one of those huge, fully operated Starbucks that took up a whole block. Instead, it was peaceful with the sound of underground blues music wafting through the speakers. It only took up a humble neighborhood corner and only allowed room for maybe twenty people at the most. “You must be Spencer,” said a voice behind the counter.

Spencer whipped his head around towards the deep, nasally voice. It belonged to a guy with tousled brown hair that looked lived in and chilled out. He had a rugged semi-beard that covered his face and red brown eyes that made him glow. He had a little smile growing as he came closer to Spencer. “Hey,” he said holding out his hand, “I’m Jon Walker.”

“Spencer Smith,” he took his hand. It was large and rough. He shook it but like a pendulum, it began to slow down until they were just holding each others’ hands. Suddenly, the situation was awkward and they pulled away quickly.

“Yeah. Your mom’s like the best teacher I ever had,” Jon scratched at his facial hair. He smiled towards his shoes and Spencer could see a blush crawling onto his cheeks.

Jon’s embarrassment was something for Spencer to advantage of. “Yeah, that’s what everyone says, but I have her this year and I could argue against it,” Spencer joked, confidently.

“Yeah, well I guess you’re a bit biased,” Jon squinted his eyes when he said ‘bit’ to emphasize his sarcasm. “Well, why don’t you come back so we can get you a job?” He clapped his hands together and waved towards the backroom.

Spencer walked around the tall counters towards the back. Jon held open the swinging black door with a window in the middle. The backroom walls were white and blank. The room buzzed of the heavy gray machinery and stunk of dirty mop water. “Glamorous, isn’t it?” Jon asked sarcastically. Spencer didn’t respond as Jon took his to the corner of the cornerstore. They had an office that was about the size of an elevator tucked in the back. Spencer went in and Jon closed the door. “Take a seat,” Jon said, indicating the bean bag chair on the ground.

“I never seen a bean bag chair in an office,” Spencer said. He sat down and was immediately engulfed by the green blob.

“Yeah,” Jon shook his head, “the owner, Mark, thought it was clever. You know, bean bag chairs and coffee beans. The thing is only the employees see it, so it renders itself pointless and tacky. Don’t you think?”

Spencer laughed, “Yeah. I think you pretty much summed it up.” Jon laughed, too. They laughed for awhile, until it diminished. Then, it was just awkward. “Well, then. Let’s get down to business,” Spencer tried to break it. He was always pretty good at dealing with that kind of stuff and he could tell that Jon was pretty good at creating it. They were already working well together.

Spencer’s hand was cramped after fifteen minutes of signing papers. He had hypermemorized his social security number and the date. Twenty minutes later, the paperwork was done. Jon opened the gray cabinet in the corner. He looked back to Spencer with a blank look. His eyes went up and down his body. He nodded his head, “You’re tiny.” He threw him the uniform and shut the cabinet doors. “I think that’s it,” Jon put his hands in his gray denim pockets. “Your first day is tomorrow at three.”

Spencer smiled his trademark smile, knowing it made every situation better. “Great,” he said.

Jon crossed the room and reached for the door handle, but stopped. He was standing close to Spencer, close enough that it was kind of awkward when he stopped. Jon looked into his face. The smile had faded and now they were just… staring. Jon’s eyes were slightly squinted like he was taking a good hard look. Spencer didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t fix this situation. He could only wait for it to pass.

“You have the coolest eyes,” Jon said after what seemed like forever. “Just like your mom’s, right?”

Spencer sighed and smiled at his feet. He could feel his face getting red, “Yeah, what? Are you in love with her too?”

Jon seemed confused, “What do you mean?”

“Well, all the guys that have my mom always tell me how awesome and hot she is. It’s sort of disgusting,” Spencer nervously rested his hand on the back of his neck. He felt weird telling a complete stranger this.

“No,” Jon’s eyebrows furrowed, “I mean, yes, your mom is the coolest teacher ever, but, no, I don’t think it’s cause she’s hot.” He stopped his speech for a second, ”she did have some beautiful eyes, though.” Jon stared at him one more time before pulling the door open and leading Spencer out. “I’ll see you tomorrow then. Right?” He said when they reached the other side of the window door.

“Yep. Three o’clock,” Spencer bowed his head towards Jon.

“Bye, Spencer!” Morgan waved happily.

“Bye, Morgan,” Spencer waved. “See you, man” he directed towards Jon.

“Yep. You, too,” Jon responded before heading into the backroom, again.

Spencer turned and walked swiftly out the door, feeling like a million dollars. He had a job and a cute guy said his eyes were beautiful. Wait. Spencer almost stopped mid-step, but really only did a double-take to his feet and kept walking towards his car. He did not just think Jon was cute. No, he didn’t. He couldn’t have. That’s impossible. And like that, he was convinced.

Plus, he reassured his beliefs, he said my mom’s eyes were beautiful, not mine. Spencer got in his car and drove to the concert, unable to get that outrageously random thought out of his head.