Is This What I Want?

by Patricia Mann

  I went to the restroom and walked to my car at a slow pace, knowing my mother was at the house with the kids so there was no rush. She loved her time with them and with Rick gone, I wouldn’t be getting many breaks, at least not during the week. And I had them to myself for the first weekend of our separation, since Rick was tending to his mother, whose mysterious illness didn’t seem to be improving. I made a mental note to call him the next day to ask how she was doing and felt thankful that we still spoke every other day or so, if only about the mundane stuff of life.

  As I moved closer to my minivan at the far end of the faculty parking lot, a figure came into view next to it. Two weeks before, this would have been disastrous. I would have had to reject any attempts at non class-related conversation and to provide a full report on this unwelcome visit to Rick. Now, just fourteen short days later, everything had changed. There were no restrictions and it was all up to me to decide how to handle it.

  I slowed my steps even more to consider what to do. I could say I was in a hurry to pick up my kids. I could be cold. I could spill everything and invite his comforting touch. I decided to see what his intentions were and go from there.

  He was standing near the driver’s side door. I kept my expression neutral. He smiled a nervous smile. “I’m sorry. Don’t think I’m stalking you or something. I just wanted to talk to you without other students around.”

  “What is it, Dave?” I didn’t want to sound too friendly.

  “It’s just…” Professor Lance Long walked up out of nowhere and startled us both.

  “Hi, Dave, Professor Thomas. You two together again, huh?” he asked with mock accusation.

  My heart thumped inside my chest. “Is this young man following you around, Professor Thomas?” he teased, laughing. I wanted him to stop but he went on as my face flushed.

  “Dave, I’ve got a crush on her too. We all do, but you know she’s married, right?” He laughed louder, not even realizing that no one was laughing with him. I tried to smile as my body started to feel numb. Dave grunted with fake indignation, which was actually believable.

  I summoned all my strength to hold Lance’s gaze and match his sarcasm.

  “Very funny, Professor Long,” I said, happy with my relaxed start, “but I can take care of myself. Dave was just asking me to clarify McGregor’s Theory X and Theory Y. Would you like to take over so I can go home?” I figured that would send him running pretty quick.

  Dave pulled his phone out to scroll through text messages, another convincing performance.

  Lance started to walk away as he responded, “Oh no, I’m off the clock now! No more explaining theories for me. Have fun, you two.” Without another word, he was gone.

  “We can’t talk here. Just get in,” I whispered.

  Dave hopped into the passenger seat and I peeled out, driving to the same park down the street where we sat together in my car just a few months earlier. It was a surreal shared déjà vu experience as we both sat in silence remembering that moment. I parked in the same spot. But the mood felt different in the dark of night. There were no mothers pushing their toddlers on swings this time.

  I am not going to kiss him no matter what, I thought, forcing images of the lingering kisses we shared in this same place, in this same car, out of my mind. I revisited the words he spoke there. I couldn’t forget how hard I tried to respond to his preposterous proposal with skepticism and willpower. He had offered to take things slow, claiming to just want to get to know me. He made promises of providing me with the fun, attention, and pleasure that my life seemed to be lacking. It would be a harmless little escape from my endless duties and obligations. And before I knew it, we were engulfed in delicious kisses. But it would not happen this time, I assured myself again.

  We both sat speechless for too long, staring out the front window.

  “So what is it already? What do you want, Dave? Why were you waiting for me by my car?” It came out with more acrimony than I intended.

  He turned to face me. His eyes held steady until my own, a lighter, less striking shade of green, were willing to meet them.

  “I’m worried about you, that’s why. I’ve been working hard to focus on the class and see you as only my professor all this time. It’s almost halfway through the semester and there haven’t been any problems, right?”

  “Right. You’re right,” I said. Everything is okay, I told myself. The two of us have been doing a brilliant acting job.

  “But this week and last week I could tell something was wrong. I’m sure no one else could tell, please don’t worry about that. But I, well, I pick up on little changes with people. I hate that I’m like that. My friends make fun of me for it, but I can’t help it.”

  I looked away from him and he waited.

  Why does he have to be like this? I asked myself. So young, but so sensitive, so intuitive. Such an old soul. Manly in all the ways he’s supposed to be, but with too much tenderness and empathy for his age and gender. He couldn’t be more different from Rick, it occurred to me.

  It was clear he wasn’t going to go on until I looked at him, so I gave in. He continued.

  “Beth, you seem sad. I can feel it. Did something happen?”

  What can I say to him? I wondered. “What makes me seem sad?”

  “A lot of things. You don’t smile as much as usual or make jokes in class. I’m sure everyone just thinks it’s because you’re trying to keep up with all the material you need to teach us before the midterm. But you used to give more humorous examples or be quick with a witty comeback to a stupid remark. You seem, I don’t know, more serious.”

  He was stirring my insecurities. “Stop. Just stop. If you picked up on all this, everyone else must have. You’re scaring me. Are the students talking about me?”

  “No, no I swear. No one has said anything. It’s just me. It’s only because, well, I know you in a different way.”

  I closed my eyes and traveled to the memory of the two of us naked in his bed, his athletic body hovering above mine as he kissed my lips exactly the way I wanted him to. His hair brushing against my upper chest as his mouth met my eager nipples for the first time. I saw his exquisite erection, saw myself touching it, wanting to do everything humanly possible to it, with it. But it was all cut short. We never had our chance.

  “We’re separated. That’s what it is. I thought I was hiding it well, but I have been sad, because… because Rick and I are separated.” Warm tears burned their way down my cheeks. I had never cried in front of Dave but didn’t feel the least bit self-conscious.

  His eyes turned somber and he covered his mouth with his hand for a long time before responding.

  “Is it because of me?” He looked down at the floor mat beneath his feet and I knew he was terrified of my answer.

  I used my middle finger to wipe beneath my lower lashes.

  “No, Dave. It’s not because of you, honestly. Five months ago, I probably would have said yes. But in that time, I’ve been forced to face the truth about my marriage and about myself.”

  He stared into me, wanting to know more.

  “You came along at the breaking point. You’ve got perfect timing, you know that?”

  He looked at me with an unspoken question and I knew what he wanted to hear. I could give it to him and I would mean it.

  I ran my hand along his smooth cheek, then pulled it away abruptly.

  “No, it wasn’t just the timing. It was you. You’re so different, so special to me. I’ve been married for ten years and it never happened before and hasn’t happened since. You helped me to feel things again, things that I had given up on experiencing. I can’t imagine anyone else who could have done that. Who, really? Cocky Professor Long? I don’t think so.”

  We both laughed, that guarded anxious laugh that happens in the middle of a moment fraught with the weight of life-altering decisions hangin
g in the balance.

  “Dave, I can’t tell you what’s going to happen. I don’t know. But I do know that you’re better off without me in your life. You should have a beautiful young girlfriend who treasures how sweet and attentive you are. Who you feel inspired to write your romantic love songs for.”

  The words of the song he wrote for me flooded my mind.

  The great universal coincidence randomly placed us both there. I went to sit in the back but then I saw your face and I found myself in the front chair.

  I saw him singing to me, his strong fingers strumming the guitar. I saw myself swooning as I listened, caught in his web of intense young passion and desire.

  He shook his head. “I tried. I really did, Beth. I dated someone over the summer. She was great. I couldn’t find a single thing wrong with her. And believe me, I tried. But I had to end it. She just wasn’t… she wasn’t you.”

  “Of course she wasn’t me! I’m probably closer to your mother’s age than yours! You have to find someone your own age, at your own stage of life, really Dave. This could never work.”

  “How do you know? There must be people who’ve made it work. If anyone could, we could. We’re so similar, Beth. We understand each other. We feel things so deeply. We want the same things—excitement and intensity, a deep connection. And physically, I’ve never felt so…”

  He stopped himself, needing to catch his breath.

  My entire body was suddenly on fire. I realized there was nothing to stop me. I had Rick’s permission. I only had myself to answer to now.

  Almost every part of me was desperate to give in to the scorching drive right then and there. But the seriousness of it kept my brain hostage, refusing to allow me to walk through the open gate to freedom.

  I fumbled to open the car door and stepped into the crisp fall air, gripping my arms tight around my body.

  He opened his door, got out, and walked toward me, stopping before he was too close.

  “I don’t want to cause you any more pain than you’re already going through.”

  I stared at the trees swaying in the wind.

  “I’m going to leave you and walk back to school alone, but I need to say one last thing.”

  I turned to face him, unable to imagine what he was about to say, afraid it would be something that might melt my resolve.

  “We’ll go back to being teacher and student for now. The semester will be over in a little less than two months. I’ll leave you alone until then. You do what you need to do to figure out if you can save your marriage. I’ll be happy for you if you do. Heartbroken for myself, but happy for you. After the final exam, I’ll walk you to your car and ask if you’re still separated. You’ll just give me a simple yes or no.”

  He paused. I could do that much. I lifted and lowered my head once to confirm.

  “If you say yes, I’m going to ask you on a date. A real date—dinner at a nice restaurant, a walk on the beach after, plenty of time spent talking and getting to know each other better, with no more than a brief kiss at the end of the night.”

  My chest ached. I couldn’t envision a more sublime evening.

  I repeated the confirming motion.

  With that, he turned and walked off, disappearing into the black night.

  CHAPTER 16:

  BAD LUCK COMES

  IN THREES

  I COULDN’T SLEEP THAT NIGHT. First I woke up in a pool of sweat after a vivid sex dream about Dave, complete with a somnolent but intense orgasm. Then I tossed and turned through a nightmare about Rick getting remarried. At five am, I gave up and started to write in my journal. It was cathartic to get it all out. I cried as I relived what I could remember of the horrendous night in Las Vegas and the stress of telling the kids we were going to separate. Then I went back to the torment of the night before, Dave sharing his plans to ask me on a date in two months.

  I wrote without stopping until six am, when I decided to look at my phone. There were two new text messages from late the night before. It was disconcerting that they were from two different people yet said the same thing.

  Shelly: Call me as soon as you can.

  Jill: Call me as soon as you can.

  My attempts to guess what could be going on with my two friends were interrupted by the phone, still in my hand, ringing. I reached for the little button on the side to silence the ringer so it wouldn’t wake Rick. I couldn’t stop forgetting that he wasn’t there anymore. It seemed ironic to see his name on the screen. He was calling, and for a moment, I felt happy about that.

  “Good morning,” I said with affection.

  “Beth, I need to talk to you.”

  The gravity of his tone alarmed me.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s my mom. We got her diagnosis yesterday.”

  The seconds before he spoke again expanded and twisted in time.

  I held my breath, not meaning to.

  “It’s lung cancer.”

  “Oh no, Rick, no. I don’t…”

  “I know. No one understands. She never smoked, was never around anyone who smoked. It could be related to the factory job she had a long time ago.”

  I pictured Lucy, so small, so loving. Not one of the stereotypes about meddling, critical mother-in-laws applied to her. How could this be? How could one person be subjected to so much heartache? A hard-knock youth spent trying to claw her way out of poverty, then a miserable marriage, which she selflessly remained in until her kids were adults; a grown son living with her because he was separated from his wife. And now lung cancer. She was the only person I knew who never smoked or drank, who was actually a virgin on her wedding night. It didn’t make any sense that this benevolent woman, who lived to shower her five grandchildren with love, could be dealt this wretched hand at only fifty-nine years old.

  “What are they going to do?” I asked.

  “We don’t know yet. We met her oncologist yesterday and he said he wants to confer with his colleagues about whether surgery, chemo, or a combination would work best in her case.”

  “I don’t even know what to say.” I wished my degrees in communication could help me, but they were useless. “I can’t believe this. I’m so sorry. What can I do?”

  “I know. I know you love Mom too. There’s nothing to do at this point. Kelly and I are just… we’re just trying to get over the shock of this.” His voice quivered.

  I pictured Rick’s poor sister Kelly, with three young kids to look after, now dealing with her mother’s lung cancer.

  “Oh my God, Rick, this is terrible. I want to help somehow.”

  “Well, she wants to see the kids. She misses them. I miss them. She doesn’t have much energy, but now that we know her condition isn’t contagious, is it okay if the boys stay here tonight? I know it’s a school night, but I’ll make sure they go to bed early and I’ll get them both to school tomorrow. I’m taking the rest of the week off so I can be with her at all the doctor visits.”

  “Of course. Do you want me to bring them over?”

  “No, I’ll pick them both up from school.”

  If we weren’t separated, I’d be going too. I’d be included in the time spent at Lucy’s bedside and the discussions about treatment decisions. I wondered if Lucy and Kelly no longer saw me as a part of their family or if my family member status was just somehow on hold. How did these things work? I had no idea.

  “Okay, sure.”

  “I have to go. I want to do some more research online about the disease and treatments.”

  “Right, yeah. Rick?”

  I wanted to say, “I love you.” I wanted to say, “I’m so sorry that you have the pain of our situation in addition to this new, unimaginable pain.” I wanted to say, “Can I come see your mom? Tell her how much I’ve always admired and appreciated her?” I wanted to say, “Come home, and I’ll comfort you with hugs
and kisses and a shoulder to cry on.” But none of that would come out. Why? Pride? Fear of rejection?

  “Nothing. Just… let me know if there’s anything I can do, please.”

  “I will.” Click.

  I sat in stunned silence thinking about it, wondering if the treatments would work and when she would die, which led to thoughts about when I would die, when Rick would die, and my parents. We were all going to die, but that’s something you’re not supposed to think about. Not until someone in your inner circle is diagnosed with cancer.

  I didn’t want to tell anyone. I didn’t want to think about it until I knew more. Maybe she could beat it.

  “What’s wrong with you? Why are you moving so slow?” Sam sneered as I cleared the breakfast dishes from the table.

  “I’m just tired. I didn’t sleep well. Go get your things together for school. Your lunch box is ready. Don’t forget to put it in your backpack.”

  After dropping Sam off at school, I wanted to call Shelly on the car ride home, but Jack had other ideas.

  “What day today?” he asked, and I suspected where he was going with it.

  “It’s Wednesday, why?”

  “What time is my school?”

  “You go to school from eleven to three.”

  “I don’t want to go today. I stay home with you.”

  “Jack, we’ve been over this. I know you have fun at school. There’s no reason for you not to go.”

  Really, there was no reason for him to go, other than the fact that if I let him stay home that day, he’d think there was a chance of persuading me to do it again the next day and every school day after that.

  “Mama has things to do. School is good for you. You learn things and you play with your new friends.”

  He rolled his eyeballs up as far as he could, made a fish face, and crossed his arms. My phone rang and I hoped it was something that would take long enough for Jack to forget the conversation. I put my earpiece in and accepted the call.