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In the early spring the lower grades hosted a little musical event in the gymnasium. The janitors set up a series of risers and laid out rows of chairs for the parents and family. Kimberley and Alice, the music teacher, and been working with the kids every day to learn the simple songs. When the big evening arrived, she led her little charges from their homeroom into the gym where she and Alice lined them up. Since the program would take several minutes and it had been a long day, she decided to find a seat off to the side. Looking quickly she saw an empty chair and sat down, keeping an eye on her pupils. Pierre Cardin, her nose told her and she turned her head slightly and saw that she was sitting next to Mr. Rousseau, whose daughter sat on the other side. He smiled for a moment and turned his glance back to the stage where Martin was in the middle of the back row.
All eyes were on the makeshift stage as the children began their song. All eyes except for Kimberley's. She kept stealing glances at his man sitting next to her, their hips and legs mere inches apart. She could feel the warmth of his body beside her. She felt the telltale signs of perspiration grow. She folded her hands together nervously in her lap. When the parent sitting in front of her tilted her head to the side, she had to move closer to him to keep an eye on her students. Her hair fell past her shoulder and brushed against him. He looked over and smiled again before looking back toward the stage.
There was a slow almost indiscernible movement beside her, and she noticed his hand edge over from his lap to his thigh and head down toward his knee, stopping part way down. His pinky finger was a hairsbreadth away from the hem of her skirt. Okay, she thought, two can play at this game. She shifted her position in the chair and brushed her thigh up against his hand. He didn't move or even flinch, his fingers holding their position pressed against the warm flesh of her thigh. Then very slowly and smoothly his fingers began to move back and forth along her thigh, a fraction of an inch at first, then farther and farther along until they were tracing a complete path along her thigh from her hem to her knee and back. She began to feel the tingles and kept her leg pressed against him.
All too quickly the kids finished their song (dammit, kindergartner's have such a short attention span, she thought) and he raised his hands up to applaud. She joined in and the kids all beamed proudly. When the accompanist began the next song, he returned his hand to where it was, except that she had shifted as close to him as possible, so close that their thighs were touching. His palm landed on his leg but his fingertips lighted on her thigh right at the hemline. She trembled again and pressed her leg against him to keep from shaking. He didn't say a word, didn't look her way, but only cleared his voice. Her leg was on fire as she felt his finger tip slowly move up and down her thigh. She began to feel so warm and tingling inside, she flicked her tongue out to lick her dry lips. When she glanced to the side, she could see him looking at her too and nodded. She could hardly breathe from the excitement of his touch.
Then the second song ended and Alice followed up the round of applause with a bow by the children and introductions of Kimberly and Virginia, the other kindergarten teacher. Kimberley stood up for a moment to acknowledge the polite applause from the audience. There was a third and final song and she wasn't sure that she would be able to take another few minutes of this flirty little finger play. My God, why don't I just take his hand and put it where I want it to be, she asked herself. Of course his daughter was sitting on the other side, and there were parents and colleagues all around. What would they think of the prim young kindergarten teacher if they could read her mind? What would he think?
When she took her seat and he set his hand back down, hers was in place waiting. He lifted it up for a second then let it settle back down into hers and like a couple of giddy teenagers on their first date, they sat holding hands, her small pale hand with the long fingers and painted nails resting in his large strong hands. His palm was warm, with maybe a touch of perspiration too. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the joyful clear voices of the children splash over her. Oh, let them sing this song a second time, she begged. But the song was soon over and the next thing she knew she was up from her seat and leading the children off the risers. As Alice called out her name again, she waved modestly and looked out to the crowd and saw Paul applauding, nodding his head in her direction.
Later, she stood by the door to her room watching as the kids hooked up with their parents. Among the last to come were Paul and his daughter. Martin went running out to his father's waiting arms.
"Daddy, Daddy," he shouted excitedly. "Did you see me?"
"I saw everything, Marty," Paul replied, looking up for a moment to Kimberley's smiling face.
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