She laughed again. I wondered why I took these things so hard. What was wrong with me? Other mothers seemed to be so much better equipped to ride the ups and downs of the parenthood roller-coaster.
“Wow, you’re good, aren’t you?” I asked. “Not much more I can say on that subject.”
“Okay, then tell me what I really want to know. Have you seen Dave since you went back to teaching?”
Might as well give it to her now since things are about to come to a head, I figured.
“Yes, I have. But I don’t want you to get the wrong idea, because I didn’t ask for this and Rick knows all about what’s going on.”
“Okay,” she said with an apprehensive tone.
I checked my makeup and tamed an errant eyebrow hair in the rear view mirror before continuing.
“Dave seems to be in my class. But I’m going to take care of it today. I’m going to insist that he drop it before the deadline this Friday.”
There was a long silence and I knew she was processing the implications.
“What do you mean he ‘seems’ to be in your class?” She never misses a beat, I thought.
“He showed up the first week. God, I almost had a heart attack when he walked in late. I’m so freaking disorganized I forgot to print an updated roster. If I had, at least I could have prepared myself emotionally, you know?”
“Yeah, would have been nice to know ahead of time.”
“Anyway, we only meet once a week, so the second week I was all ready to ask him to come to my office so I could demand that he get the hell out of the class. But he didn’t show up. That was last Tuesday, a week ago, so I’m ready to do it today. I’m sure he’ll be there.”
I waited for her to say something. She didn’t.
“So that’s it, it’ll be resolved as soon as class is over tonight.”
More silence. Maybe she was the one who didn’t believe me now.
“How did you feel when you saw him?” she asked.
All of a sudden my throat closed up and I started coughing uncontrollably.
“Beth? Are you okay?”
The coughing subsided but things opened back up slowly so that when I could talk again, my voice was strained.
It was time to get out of the car.
“Sorry, must be having an allergy attack. I can talk for a couple more minutes while I walk to class, but I have to be careful about what I say.”
As I stood, I smoothed the front of my new blue and white striped dress and pulled it down a little from the bottom, not wanting it to seem too short for a professor. I wondered if Dave would think I looked good in it. I knew he liked my toenails polished red, but hoped he wouldn’t think I did it for him.
I had to walk extra slow in the new white wedge sandals that were already causing a blister right under the chafing strap on the back of my left ankle. Wheeling my briefcase along with one hand, holding the phone up to my ear with the other, I tried to whisper.
“I’m not sure how I felt. I guess I was a little angry that he would put me in that position. But it was also…”
“You still have feelings for him?”
“I don’t know. I’m confused. Everything was so intense with him and things were stagnant with Rick for a long time. You know that.”
“But everything’s good with you and Rick now, right?”
“Things have gotten better, yes. But, it’s not that simple. And it’s even more complicated now because he told me something I never knew…”
I looked over both shoulders. Three emaciated young blonde women wearing matching fuchsia tee shirts with large indigo Greek letters brushed past me, laughing loudly.
“Shelly, I have to go. I can’t really talk now. Can I call you back tomorrow?”
“Please do. This doesn’t sit well with me.”
Settling into a desk in the part-time faculty office, it was a relief to find that only one other professor was there. I hoped Lance Long wasn’t in the mood to chat. I usually enjoyed talking with him. We had a similar pedagogical philosophy and I loved his sense of humor. I could see why so many male and female students alike had crushes on him. His half Asian, half black features were striking. But it was his relaxed manner and seeming lack of awareness of how sexy he was that made him so endearing. I opened my laptop right away and tried to appear very busy.
I reviewed my notes for class and mindlessly added a picture here and a quote there to my slides. My attention kept drifting. As if I willed it to happen by staring out the open office door thinking of him, Dave was suddenly standing there. Lance turned from his work to determine the identity of our guest.
“Hey Dave, how’s it going?” Lance asked in a familiar, friendly way.
“Hi Professor Long. It’s going well, thanks. How are you?”
“You know how the beginning of the semester is. Trying to get back into the swing of things. Still missing those lazy days at the beach surfing.”
Dave smiled and nodded. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”
I knew for a fact that Dave had never been surfing.
As he sat down in the chair right next to my desk, we looked at each other and it became clear that neither of us knew how to have the conversation we needed to have with a third party in the room.
“Just give me a second to finish this,” I said as I turned back to my computer to buy some time.
As I pretended to complete an email response to another student, I allowed myself to take in what I had just seen, smelled, felt. His sweet face. His new and intoxicating clove scent. His strong arms, the ones that held me once. Those deep green eyes, the eyes that looked at me with a burning desire I had never felt before. His perfectly messy brown hair. I shouldn’t know how soft it was to the touch, but I did. I thought Lance Long might die of shock if he knew the truth. Or maybe not. Maybe he had been here too. He certainly must have had the opportunity.
There was nothing we could do. We’d have to talk in code.
I turned to face Dave and steeled myself as I tried to convey the message, “follow my lead,” with my face. “So when you didn’t come back to class last week, I figured you’d be dropping it, that you must have found another class that fit your schedule better.”
Dave looked confused. Lance had his back to us so I tilted my head toward him and opened my eyes wide.
Dave nodded and seemed to start to get it. I continued. “So I know you’re not going to be in my class. But you’re still on the roster, so you have to make sure you officially drop it by this Friday, okay? That’s the deadline.”
He was still silent, but I could see he was trying to figure out how to say what he needed to say.
“Actually, Professor Thomas, um…”
He looked over at Lance and then back at me.
“Yeah, I was trying to change my schedule around to get all the classes I need at the best times. But, um…”
I crossed my arms in front of me to appear impatient. This seemed to fluster him even more so I uncrossed them and tried to smile a little. He smiled back and I couldn’t be angry. He looked so lost and innocent. He didn’t look like the kind of person who could hurt anyone. He was well-liked in our department. He had plenty of friends. I was the one who did terrible things I should never have done. A brief thought about how good it would feel to hug him crossed my mind and I chastised myself for going there, even for a second.
The silence went on for too long and I worried Lance would pick up on something so I nonverbally encouraged Dave to keep talking by nodding in an inviting manner.
He opened his mouth but it seemed to take forever for the words to come out.
“The thing is, I need your class to graduate and I couldn’t get into any other sections of it. That’s why I wasn’t there last week. I tried to get into Professor Long’s class, but he…”
Lance turned to join th
e conversation, confirming that he was listening, even though he was trying to look as if he was doing paperwork.
“Yeah, sorry again dude, the class is just too full. And I’ve already got a waiting list a mile long.” He turned back to his work and I prayed that Dave and I were doing a decent enough acting job.
It all made sense now. He hadn’t signed up for my class because he still wanted me. It was because a space in a course he needed to take to graduate opened up and he took it. It just happened to be my class. Maybe he was rushing and didn’t even see my name as the instructor. When he saw my negative reaction to his attendance the first day, he did everything within his power to switch to a different class.
I took in a deep breath and asked, “When are you graduating?”
“This May. Business communication is required and I’m sure you know it’s only offered in the fall so if I don’t stay in your class, I won’t be able to… um…”
I was trapped. I couldn’t stand in the way of his graduation. I would have to make this work somehow. A barrage of questions ran through my mind. How did Dave feel about me now? How did I feel about him? How would I explain this to Rick? How could I see and smell him every week for twelve more weeks? Would I be able to get a new job teaching at another college if I were fired from this one?
Dave looked at his watch and stood up. His facial expression was such a mix of anxiety and apology that I decided to do the mature thing and start our new relationship off on the right foot.
“Well then, I’ll see you in class in fifteen minutes, Dave,” I said, exactly the same way I would have said it to any other student.
He nodded and left. His clove scent lingered.
As I packed up my things, Lance swiveled around in his chair and I became aware that he was trying to get my attention.
“Well, that was awkward!” he said, snickering with a wink.
My heart rate soared. I wasn’t sure what he meant, but it couldn’t be good.
I turned to him, a questioning look on my face, as I struggled to hide my panic and breathe normally.
“Don’t worry,” he said in a comforting voice. “You handled it well. I’ve been there. Poor kid’s obviously got it bad for you. You could hear it in his voice. I get why you were trying to nudge him to take a different section of the class. You were subtle about it though. I don’t think he picked up on what was really going on.”
My breathing started to slow and I silently thanked God for the fact that Lance was the one who didn’t pick up on what was really going on.
CHAPTER 9:
ROMANCE IN THE
STRANGEST PLACES
“SO WHAT DO YOU think Rick’s reaction will be when he finds out you let Dave stay in your class? And when do you plan on telling him?” Jill asked. She seemed genuinely concerned but also a little distracted.
I popped a slice of mediocre avocado roll into my mouth before answering. The sushi place ten minutes away was so much better, but Jill and I wanted to walk to dinner so we could drink as much as we wanted. Unlimited alcohol was always a dangerous yet appealing proposition for me.
“I’ll tell him in our next session with Carly. That way he can’t go crazy and start threatening physical violence against Dave. She knows how to talk him down when he gets like that.”
Jill sipped her plum wine so I followed suit, trying not to reveal my distaste for the syrupy sweet pink beverage. I couldn’t fool her though. She called the server over and ordered two sakes, which was fine with me. The strong bitter taste of fermented rice sounded much better.
“I don’t want to talk about me anymore. I’m sure you have much more interesting stories to share,” I said, placing special emphasis on the word “interesting.”
She smiled and nodded slowly, as if to say, “Oh yeah, I’ve got stories that’ll knock your socks off,” but again, her expression was tinged with something that didn’t fit, worry or maybe stress over something.
The sakes arrived and the first sip caused a powerful burning sensation, so I quickly took another to get acclimated.
“Have you heard of The Purple Room in Vegas?” she asked, as if she actually thought I might have. My dumbfounded expression must have provided the answer.
She tossed her long hair over her shoulder, revealing her ample cleavage. I was well endowed myself, but hers were enormous, and with the rest of her body being so petite, I couldn’t help but doubt that they were the work of Mother Nature. All of her clothes seemed carefully selected to draw attention to them, like the high-waisted, short, pink and yellow summer dress she wore that night. I took another sip of sake and reminded myself to keep eating, as the familiar fuzzy feeling started to take hold.
“It’s a sex club,” she blurted out.
Then she laughed at my expression, but I wasn’t quite sure why. Apparently, I was no longer doing a good job of controlling my reactions.
“Only couples or single women can get in, no single men are allowed.”
I prepared myself for a new type of education.
“Max and I went for the first time last weekend. It was… quite an experience. We actually ran into another couple we know there. You know them too, but we all swore each other to secrecy.”
The faces of every couple in our neighborhood ran through my mind. I couldn’t imagine who it could be. I had to know.
“Come on, I swear I can keep a secret. Just tell me, Jill!”
“Sorry. I really can’t. We honor the anonymity of our community.”
So she does have a code of ethics, I thought. Too bad it allowed for almost anything except telling me what couple she ran into in a sex club in Vegas.
“Fine, but I’ll keep trying to get it out of you. I don’t give up that easy,” I said, sipping my sake. “Tell me about the club.”
She sat up a little, proud to be the teacher of her friend the teacher.
“There are all different rooms. You have the couples’ room, which has dim lighting and is filled with couches, beds, and private nooks that are easy to peek into. You can just do your own thing together, with the added thrill of having people watch. But sometimes in the couples’ room, people swap. At first we didn’t want to do that since it was our first time there. We wanted to check everything out, knowing we’d be back sometime soon.”
I closed my eyes and tried to picture the couples’ room. I didn’t like the fact that what came to mind instead were the sweet little faces of Henry and James, Jill’s sons. I worked hard not to think of them as she went on.
“After watching in the couples’ room for a while, we went to check out the hot tub area. Bathing suits are forbidden, of course. It was pretty sexy but the thought of all that must happen in those hot tubs every night was a little disgusting. We ended up spending a long time in the strip club room, which is where we ran into, um, I’ll call them Jane and John Doe.”
Damn, I thought. Maybe if she has enough sake, she’ll tell me.
I nodded and waited.
“It was so much fun to pretend I was a stripper. That pole is a great workout too. They have pole dance classes at my gym, you know. You and I should go sometime.”
“Uh huh, sure. So back to the story…”
She giggled and drank her sake. But then she looked down at the floor and seemed to go somewhere else. I focused my gaze in the direction of the spot she appeared to be studying so intently, finding nothing there, which seemed to snap her back into the moment.
“Sorry. Anyway, I was having fun doing my striptease as the crowd grew, and just after I threw my bra off the stage, Jane and John walked in. I couldn’t believe it. After all I’ve seen these past few months you would think nothing could shock me.”
I winced as a too big gulp of sake burned my throat. My wide eyes begged Jill to continue.
“I know it must seem like I’m so uninhibited that I don’t care what anyone thinks,
Beth. But the truth is that all the hookups we’ve arranged through our online group have been in other towns. I didn’t want to end up running into Henry’s teacher or something God-awful like that.”
I pictured Sam’s third grade teacher at our local public school, with her frumpy dresses and orthopedic shoes, and wondered what Henry’s private school third grade teacher looked like. But now was not the time for conversational digressions. I kept silent.
“So I didn’t know how to feel when I saw… this couple that we know.”
I slammed my ceramic sake cup onto the table in annoyance.
“At least tell me if you think they’re attractive.”
She squinted her eyes and surveyed me with what seemed to be a question about if I actually wanted to hear everything. I had to prove my worthiness.
“Jill, my aunt taught me how to give a blow job when I was ten. I was only fifteen when I first had sex. And I did my fair share of experimenting before I met Rick in college. You can tell me anything.”
She nodded.
“Okay, but you’ll have to tell me more about your experimenting period sometime then.”
“I’d be happy to. Now go on!” I demanded.
She rubbed her index finger along her lower lip before continuing.
“The truth is I’ve always had a thing for her.”
“Her? Not him?” I immediately regretted articulating the question, for so many reasons.
“You see. You weren’t expecting that, were you?” she asked.
I wasn’t. I knew Jill’s swinging involved sexual activity with women, but I assumed it was mostly for the pleasure it gave the men to watch their wives together. Frustrated with myself for this ridiculous naiveté on my part, I jumped to my own flimsy defense.
“Are you kidding me? I can’t tell you how many times I’ve tried to explain to my students that sexuality exists on a continuum, that thinking people can only be either straight or gay is archaic.”
She smiled and seemed convinced. “Exactly. To be honest, I can get just as turned on by a woman as I can by a man. It’s more about the energy between us than what body parts we have.”
Is This What I Want? Page 8