by Claire Adams
“Hi, I’m so sorry,” I said when Maria answered. “Class went long.”
“I thought you were standing me up.”
“No, I’m headed home now. Are you there?” I asked.
I could hear Maria chewing. “No, I’m already at Rico’s.”
I groaned. “You’re eating chips and salsa, aren’t you?”
Maria laughed. “Yep. I was too hungry to wait for you. Hurry up. I have a table on the patio.”
“I’m coming,” I told her, tossing my backpack into the car. “Give me fifteen minutes and don’t eat all the chips!” I scolded.
I made it home in record time, stripping off my school outfit as I walked through the small house. I decided to keep it simple and pulled on a black sundress that had pretty pink flowers all over. It was light and airy and felt good after a long, humid day. I quickly dabbed on fresh lip gloss, a little mascara and called it good. I left my hair loose and down. A scan of the shoe rack in my room led me to pull out a pair of black sandals.
A last glance in the full-length mirror and I called the five-minute transformation good enough for a dinner at one of my favorite restaurants. As I walked back through the living room towards the door, I made a conscious decision to keep my eyes forward. I didn’t want to look over and see Talia’s face staring at me. I needed a night off from the sadness.
I whipped into the parking lot of the restaurant and quickly found Maria at our table on the patio, sipping a lime margarita. I looked at the empty seat with a margarita already waiting and smiled.
“Thank you!” I said, pulling out the chair and sitting down. “You have no idea how much I needed this.”
Maria smiled. “I bet. Sit down, relax. They’re going to bring out fresh chips and salsa in a minute.”
I nodded and took a long drink from the icy cold beverage. I let it slide down my throat, enjoying the instant refreshment. I was exhausted. The day had cooled off a great deal, and there was a slight breeze now.
“It’s nice out here,” I commented.
“Yes, it is. So, are the classes too much for you after all?”
“No, I’ll be fine; it’s just going to take some balancing, but it’ll work out,” I assured her.
Maria didn’t look convinced. “It wouldn’t be the end of the world if you did another semester, you know?”
I scoffed. “No way. I’m not going to stay in school a minute longer than I have to. I can do this. It will be hard, but it’ll be worth it.”
The waiter returned, bringing the chips and salsa. We thanked him and dug in. The spicy salsa was perfect with the stout drink.
I popped a loaded chip in my mouth and looked up.
“Oh my God,” I muttered around a mouthful of hot salsa.
“What? What’s wrong?” Maria said, looking back and forth.
“It’s my professor. I mean, the professor I’m working for,” I explained. “He’s inside. Small table in the far corner.”
Maria casually dropped her napkin, bent over to pick it up, and looked through the window. I laughed at her attempt to be inconspicuous.
“Wow. No wonder you want to work hard this year. He’s hot. How can you focus with that in front of you?”
I shrugged. “I guess if you like that sort of thing. I don’t know. I don’t think he’s hot. He is very, I don’t know, serious? Always serious and never smiling—unless he’s talking about the ocean. That seems to be his thing.”
Maria rolled her eyes. “What are you talking about? You aren’t fooling anyone. He’s hot, and you know it. Look at him! I can’t even see his eyes, but I know I would love them. What color are they?”
“Green.”
“Ha! I knew it. You know that because you’ve been looking,” she teased.
I shook my head, denying her accusation. “Whatever. I looked at him the three times we talked.”
Maria didn’t look convinced. “What color are the eyes of our waiter?”
“I don’t know.”
“Oh, but you talked to him, not even two minutes ago. You know the color of your man’s eyes because you know he’s hot,” she said, with an abundance of satisfaction.
“I guess,” I conceded. “Old is not my thing. I didn’t know you liked older men,” I joked.
“He’s not older. I love the gray in his hair. He looks debonair. There’s a Clooney, Pierce Brosnan thing going on there, but a much younger version. I think he’s hot and I would definitely do him if he was willing,” Maria said, completely nonchalant.
“No! What? You think?” I gasped, looking at him through the window. He was talking to another man sitting across from him at the small table.
“Tessa, really. Come on, admit it. I know you’re crushing on that guy,” Maria said with a smile.
I smiled. “He is attractive, I’ll give you that. He always looks so sad though, and I want to kiss it and make it better. Is that some female maternal instinct kicking in? Overactive hormones or something?”
Maria laughed. “Um, yeah, but not the kind you’re thinking of. You want to kiss it all right, but it isn’t for the reasons you are trying to tell yourself.”
Hearing my friend talk about the guy who had been monopolizing my thoughts these past few days felt odd. At least I knew I wasn’t completely crazy. There was a certain appeal about the tall, dark, and handsome professor, even if he was one of the most somber people I had ever met in my life. I stared through the window, and watched him take a long drink from his beer before setting it down and smiling at his friend. He looked so relaxed. I felt like I was watching an animal in its natural habitat.
“Oh crap,” I said, looking down at the table. “He saw me.” He had caught me staring at him. I wouldn’t be surprised if my mouth had been hanging open. If I could crawl under the table, I would.
“So, go say hi.”
“No! He’ll think I’m stalking him. He already busted me staring. No more looking at him,” I ordered, focusing on my drink and trying to ignore the handsome professor. He had seen me. Our eyes had met for a split second before I looked away. It was only slightly humiliating.
Maria kept the conversation going. We ate, drank, and chatted for hours on the small patio. It had been a long time since I had allowed myself to enjoy life. I didn’t completely forget about the pain that I knew would always be there, but it wasn’t the center of attention. It was a dull throb that I had accepted as a part of who I was. Acceptance made it possible for me to enjoy moments like these.
“You ready to head home?” Maria asked.
I nodded, looked at the empty glass in front of me and realized it was going to be an Uber night.
“I’ll drive,” Maria said, extending her hand, silently asking for my keys.
“Where’s your car?” I asked.
“I left it at work.”
I looked at her, studying her face. “You planned to get me drunk.”
Maria laughed. “I promise, I have no intentions of taking advantage of you, but yes, I wanted you to come out and kick your heels up a little. You can’t tell me you didn’t enjoy yourself.”
I smiled. “I had a lot of fun. Thank you for being so patient with me.”
I stood, handing my keys over. We walked out of the restaurant together. I looked at the table the professor had vacated a while ago and hoped he’d had a good time as well.
Maria pulled into the driveway of their small house. I sighed. It was time to tackle that homework I’d been putting off. I would be up late. The moment I stepped into the house, everything changed. Talia stared at me from her place on the mantle, and an overwhelming sense of guilt slammed into me. How dare I go out and have fun when my baby sister was dead?
“Don’t, Tessa,” Maria said quietly behind me. “You’re alive. Don’t feel guilty for enjoying yourself.”
I released a heavy sigh. “I know. I shouldn’t, but I do.”
Maria stepped in front of me. “You can’t change what happened. Talia wouldn’t want you to be miserable. She would w
alk in here and kick your ass if she knew what you’ve been putting yourself through.”
That pulled a small smile from my lips. “Yes, she would. Okay, I need to get busy, or I won’t sleep at all. Thanks again, Maria. It was fun, and I did enjoy myself.”
“Good. Now, leave it at that and don’t get caught up in a bunch of guilt. Life is good. Honor those that aren’t here by making the most of it. You have to live for them as much as yourself,” Maria said.
The words sank in. I knew she was right and I wanted to believe them, but sometimes, it was hard. Really hard. My mind drifted back to Professor Dunlap. How had he managed to get through the past four years? The grief he felt would be ten times what I was going through. It was then I realized that was one of the reasons I was drawn to him. He was strong. It was a quiet strength, but it was there, just below the surface.
I pulled out the quizzes for his class and quickly graded them before moving on to my other homework. It was after midnight before I finally got to crawl into bed. I laid there, staring at the dark ceiling, willing sleep to come. It wasn’t long before the tears started to fall. I was crying for my loss and for his.
After giving myself the needed release, I rolled to my side and fell asleep. Sleep was elusive. It wasn’t long before I woke myself up, sobbing. It was a regular occurrence. No matter how good I felt or how much I believed I was putting the worst of it behind me, there were these sneak attacks of profound sadness. They struck at night when I was all alone.
Sitting up in bed, I hugged my knees to my chest and rested my cheek on them. Would it ever get better? Did the professor still have nights like this? I had been told countless times that time would lessen the pain, but how much time? How long did I have to wait?
I mulled over the idea of talking to the professor about his own coping skills. Did he have some secret for moving on and pushing through? My mind drifted back to dinner tonight. I hadn’t been able to stop watching him. He seemed so—normal. Drinking beer, throwing his head back and laughing on occasion and talking, like really talking to another person. It was a side of him I hadn’t expected to see.
Watching him enjoy himself had made me happy. I liked it and wanted to see him like that again. Maria was right; he was a nine. Why I hadn’t seen it before was anybody’s guess, but he was hot. Thinking about the sexy professor helped push away the sadness. I was looking forward to seeing him tomorrow. It was a first time I’d actually been excited for a new day in a very long time.
Chapter Seven
Ian
I glanced over and saw Tessa packing up her things. She hadn’t been in my first class, which I knew she wasn’t scheduled to be, but it left a gaping hole in the room. She brought in light and joy. When she had sailed through the door for the second class, I felt like a flower opening up to the sun. I was drawn to her and wanted to hover around her, to be in her presence.
“Hi,” she said when she noticed me watching her pack up. “Did you need something else?”
I inhaled, drawing in strength and courage. “Is now a good time?”
“For?” she asked.
“That coffee? Yesterday you said you had a full day. Are you busy now?” I asked, hoping she would agree to the coffee date.
“Actually, I’m free for the rest of the day. I’d love a coffee. Are you buying?” she asked, wiggling her eyebrows in an over-exaggerated way.
“Of course,” I blurted out, grinning.
She giggled. The sound danced over my skin, setting off little nerves that made me feel all warm and tingling.
“I’m joking. I mean, not really, because I actually am the stereotypical starving college student and you’re the professor with a paying job. And, I blew my coffee allowance yesterday,” she explained.
I exhaled the breath I had been holding. She was funny. I felt like smiling when she talked.
“Oh, well, in that case, I may have to spring for a Danish as well. We can’t have you starving.”
My gaze moved over her figure. She was thin but healthy looking. I didn’t want her to change anything about that body. I felt my fingers twitch with the need to touch her. That same expanse of skin around her waist was peeking at me, revealing a taut stomach and a little pink butterfly piercing in her belly button. It was meant to tease. I knew that. Usually, that kind of thing would do nothing for me, but on her, it looked right.
Her hand moved to her stomach. She’d caught me staring.
“Sorry,” I muttered, waving at the butterfly winking at me. “It caught my eye.”
“I know it’s probably a little teenybopper, but I like it,” she explained.
I nodded, biting back what I wanted to say. “It’s pretty.”
“Are you free the rest of the day?” she asked.
“Yep.”
“Okay,” she said, looking at me.
“What?” I had been thrown off by the belly button.
“I’m ready.”
When I blankly stared at her, she raised an eyebrow. “Coffee?”
“Oh, yeah, I’m ready. Let’s go,” I said, gesturing to the door.
She stepped in front of me and by habit, muscle memory kicked in, and I placed a hand on the small of her back as we made our way out the door and down the hall. My fingers touched smooth skin, sending a jolt of electricity racing through my body, causing me to yank it back.
She looked over her shoulder and smiled, completely unaware what she was doing to me.
“Do you want to walk?” she asked.
“Sure, it’s a nice day. That’d be great,” I said, excited to spend more time with her.
We made it to the cafeteria off campus that sold specialty coffees as well as a variety of sandwiches and other snacks. It catered to the college students who ate little and on the go. I ordered the coffees while she looked for a table. With both coffees in hand, I looked around the small cafeteria. She wasn’t there. It was then that I realized there was an outdoor seating area. I made my way out to the patio and found her in one of the only tables without shade. The rest were all taken.
Drinking a hot coffee on a hot day wasn’t exactly an ideal date, but this wasn’t a date anyway, I reminded myself.
“Sorry, it was the only table left, Professor Dunlap,” she said when I pulled out the other chair and sat down.
“Ian, please. Call me Ian when we’re not in the classroom. I feel like an old man when you call me professor.”
A lovely smile, followed by the sound of my name on her lips. “Ian,” she said, testing it out.
A cool blast of mist hit me, causing me to flinch. “What the hell?”
She giggled. “Misters. It helps keep it a little cooler out here. Leaves you feeling all dewy, but a little cooler at least.”
“Uh, dewy?” I asked.
“You know, fresh out of the shower, wet?” she said, completely oblivious to the image she had managed to put in my head.
I nodded, my mouth feeling very dry. “Yeah, got it.”
We each sipped our coffee in silence.
“So, Rico’s? Do you go there a lot?” I asked, feeling like an idiot. Wasn’t that the most overused pickup line ever?
She smiled. “Actually, I used to go there quite a bit, but last night was the first time I’ve been there in a really long time.”
I nodded. “My brother dragged me out. That’s one of his favorite spots to eat, but I don’t usually go with him.”
“He dragged you out?” she questioned.
I sighed. “Yeah, I’ll admit I’m a bit of a recluse. An introvert, really.”
“No! You? I would have never guessed.” She giggled, sending shivers down my spine.
I couldn’t stop myself from touching her hand that rested on the table. When my fingers touched hers, she looked at me but didn’t pull back.
“Why did he have to drag you out?” she asked.
Another deep breath and I prepared to tell her my sad, sordid story.
“My wife and little girl died a few years ago,”
I started, feeling a little strange saying the words out loud to a woman who was basically a stranger. “Since then, I kind of, faded away, I guess you could say.”
She turned her hand over and squeezed mine, encouraging me to continue.
“I don’t do all that well in public.” I winced.
Another squeeze followed by a warm smile.
I cleared my throat. “My wife, Miriam, she was the social butterfly. She was always dragging me to social functions. When I was with her, I was comfortable. I didn’t mind meeting new people or jumping into her social circle. When she died, I felt, I don’t know—adrift. Alone. She was my anchor to that world. When she was gone, I drifted back into my lonely little corner. It’s where I’m the most comfortable.”
“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “No, I’m not. I mean, I am, but not like that. Never mind, I sound like an idiot. What I meant is, I’m sorry you stuck yourself back in that corner, and I am sorry your wife and daughter died, but I know the last thing you want to hear is someone saying sorry. It gets old,” she explained.
I raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, it does. You seem to be talking from experience. How do you know that?”
She looked down at our joined hands. “How do you do it?” she asked, in such a quiet voice I almost didn’t hear.
“Do what?”
She waved her free hand in the air. “Get through it. The grief, the sadness, and wanting to stay in your house all day.”
It was then I realized she was suffering from serious grief as well. I jumped at the chance to help her. I wanted to soothe away those lines in her forehead. I wouldn’t ask her for the details. She would tell me when she was ready.
“It’s a day to day thing. Every day is different. Some days it’s like you didn’t have your heart ripped out. Other days, you want to fucking die. It sucks. I wish there was a secret, but I don’t know it,” I said, gazing into her eyes, and watching the emotions cross her face.
She nodded.“Doesn’t it?” she said, with a weird, almost mischievous smile.
It slightly alarmed me.
She threw her head back, exposing that beautiful neck that was now glistening from the mist. She laughed, before meeting my eyes again. “It sucks. Death is bullshit. I think we should all get to live forever or have suicide pacts. When one of your family or loved ones has to die, you all die together.”