“As I told you, I used to, but they made my problem worse. Now, I turn them down.”
Though feeling uneasy about this sensitive area, Sheldon bravely ventured on, “I’m sorry, Miss Bliss, I don’t believe I quite understand.”
“I know, and I’ll just cause you more discomfort, Dr. Ackerman, if I continue to try and help you understand. So I’m dropping out,” she stated firmly.
“Oh no, Miss Bliss, you mustn’t! I’ve made a commitment and I intend to keep it.”
Seeing his jaw ripple with determination, Billie also noticed that his eyes revealed even more distress than she had seen last night. And she also noticed his eyes were the deepest, sapphire blue eyes she had ever seen.
“Don’t you wear glasses, Dr. Ackerman?”
“Wh-what?”
“Most of the time you wear glasses in class, but you aren’t wearing them now,” she said, her expression turning so pleasant a smile soon appeared.
Sheldon gazed down at her, bewildered. Billie Bliss was as changeable as a little child! First there was distress in her face, bringing the threat of tears, then kindness and sympathy, and now she was smiling. He wondered if he would ever understand this young woman.
“Miss Bliss, I’m nearsighted,” he stated impatiently. “I put my glasses on when I’m looking at my class. I take them off when I read.”
“You’re irritated,” she replied, the smile gone.
“Miss Bliss, you not only seem to change your emotions quickly, but you change subjects so abruptly, I can’t keep up with you.”
“I’m sorry.”
He scrutinized her, noticing that her brown eyes were soft and sincerely apologetic.
“All right. Where were we?”
“Nowhere.”
“Nowhere?” he asked, perplexed.
“But I do admire your feeling honor bound to keep a commitment, Dr. Ackerman—honor bound enough to put up with me. So I, too, will keep my commitment; that is, until you’re totally convinced that my problem is unsolvable, or until you lose all patience with me.” She gave him a winsome smile. “Until then, we’ll continue.”
“Good, Miss Bliss,” he said, exhaling with relief.
“Thank you, Dr. Ackerman. It’s difficult to believe that a man like you is doing this in the first place. No one has ever really tried to understand my problem, except my family.”
Sheldon was at a loss for words.
Billie filled in the silence. “My mother wanted to thank you by inviting you to dinner tomorrow night. Now that we have both recommitted ourselves, can you come?”
“I . . . hardly think that would be appropriate.”
“Why not?”
“Because this is not a social or a personal project, it’s a secular project.”
“But your concern . . . I can feel it. It doesn’t feel impersonal to me, Dr. Ackerman.”
He was thoughtful for a moment, his blue eyes reflecting appreciation for her intuitiveness. He smiled. “I believe you’re right.”
“Is 6:00 p.m. all right?”
Sheldon’s concern about the propriety of accepting the invitation soon evaporated when he thought how nice it would be to have a home-cooked meal. “It is,” he said finally. “Thank you. And is it all right with you if we get together after dinner and work?”
“It is, Dr. Ackerman.”
After Billie Bliss left the office, and after he had recovered his equanimity, Sheldon put his mind to thinking of some possible way to prove to Miss Bliss that her problem was not what she thought it was. Nor was there a dearth of young men out there who could fill her need for romance.
-
After eating a TV dinner, Sheldon sat down in his favorite chair. Poised with a pen and notepad in hand, he called Nettie. Hearing her strong upbeat voice, he replied, “Hello, Nettie.”
“Hello, Shel, how are you?”
“Could be better.”
“I’m dying of curiosity. How is everything going with your girl, Billie Bliss?”
“It’s been quite an experience, Nettie. I wanted to call you for help last night, but ended up feeling that wasn’t right to do so. But I did call tonight to ask you a favor.”
“Oh? What is it?”
“Would you tell me how you and Don met and give me a brief account of your courtship?” Only silence came through the receiver. “Nettie?”
“I’m here. I just had to pick myself up off the floor.”
He chuckled. “I suppose it is an unusual question coming from me.”
“That’s the understatement of the year. And, of course, I’m extremely curious as to why you’re asking me this.”
“As I said, I certainly would like to tell you and ask for some help, but you have your share of work with Miss Blume. Besides, I have to respect Miss Bliss’ privacy. Knowing her, however, she may tell the group.”
Nettie was disappointed, but she related to Shel what he had asked for. “Is that what you wanted to hear?”
“Yes, thank you,” he said, finishing up the notes. “One more question.
Did you think that the way you and Don met and how he courted you was, uh, romantic?”
“Why, Sheldon Ackerman, what in the world is going on with you and Billie Bliss?”
Sheldon was shocked at the question. “Surely, Nettie, you don’t actually mean what you implied?”
“No . . . well . . . maybe a little, yes.”
“That sounds just like an answer Miss Bliss would give me.”
She laughed. “It sounds like you’re having an interesting experience with the young lady.”
“Now that’s the understatement of the year.”
After he had hung up, Sheldon was hesitant to call Molly Bittle and Sharon Ozog, knowing they would react as Nettie had. But, besides them, who did he know well enough to ask such questions? Sighing, he picked up the phone. As he had anticipated, the same questions brought the same reactions.
However, this time, he was prepared. With the deftness of a boxer, he managed to dodge their natural curiosity.
Now, armed with something more concrete than guesswork, he felt better able to prove Miss Bliss wrong. Feeling more optimistic, he found himself looking forward to eating dinner with the Bliss family tomorrow night.
Fifteen
Thursday evening, after showering, Sheldon put on a blue, short-sleeved shirt and gray cotton slacks, whistling all the while. He felt more confident meeting with Miss Bliss tonight. Also, the promise of a good home-cooked meal had lifted his spirits considerably. He disliked cooking, so his meals were far from satisfying.
As he drove out of the underground parking, he turned off the air conditioning in his car and rolled down the windows. It had rained the night before.
The freshly watered trees, grass, and plants sent moisture into the air with an imminent promise of a lovely, balmy evening. The scent of flowers and green foliage blew in, awakening youthful memories of times when things were less complicated. He whistled all the way, stopping only when the motor stopped in the Bliss driveway.
He got out and walked briskly to the porch. Taking two steps at time, he moved quickly to the door and rang the bell.
Henry answered the door. The corners of his mouth arching downward more than usual, he studied the upbeat guest before him, leaving him standing on the porch.
Sheldon cleared his throat. “Good evening, Henry.”
“And condolences to you, young man, if you’re here to get another dose of Billie’s medicine.”
Sheldon smiled. “Thank you. I may need it.”
“May? No doubt about it. Come on in if you’re determined to,” he said, stepping aside for Sheldon to enter. “But if I were you, I would skitter out of here the minute dinner is over.”
“Thank you for the advice, Henry, but I came prepared tonight. I’ve got a couple of ideas of my own I intend to try out.”
“Ha! No amount of preparation is going to do you much good against the unrealistic expectations of that silly, romantic g
irl. But come on, I’ve been playing chess with the old Billy goat in the library. You can watch us until dinner’s ready.”
Sheldon followed Henry into the library where Bill was studying the chess board.
Bill looked up and smiled. “Good evening, Sheldon. Come on in and watch me beat the tar out of this ornery cuss, here.”
“Thank you, Bill,” Sheldon said, helping himself to a chair, that he pulled up close to the chess table. A chess player himself, he quickly became engrossed.
Fifteen minutes later, Will Bliss walked into the library in suit pants and a white shirt relieved of its tie. “Well, good evening, Sheldon.”
Sheldon scooted back his chair and stood up. “Good evening, sir.”
“Margaret sent me in to tell you it’s time for us to gather in the dining room.”
The three men followed Will into the dining room and were instructed where to sit. The three women came in, each carrying food to be placed upon the table. After the greetings were over and all were seated, Will suggested that they bow their heads while he said grace.
Sheldon’s mouth watered as he eyed the hot rolls, fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and gravy. “This meal looks wonderful, Mrs. Bliss. I intensely dislike my own cooking.
“Please call me Margaret, Dr. Ackerman.”
“Thank you, Margaret, please call me Sheldon.”
“Actually, Sheldon,” Margaret said, “the meal is a family effort. Matilda made the rolls, Will mashed the potatoes and Billie made the apple pies.”
Billie, trying to stay cool, had again pulled her hair up off her neck into a clip and wore a light blue, cotton dress with an empire-waist, which hid her figure.
Sheldon noticed that Billie looked very attractive. If we can just get her problem solved, he mused, she is most certainly on the road to success.
Pulling his eyes off Billie, he asked, “Who made the birthday cake you sent home with me, Matilda? It was delicious.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it, Sheldon,” she said, pleased. “That’s Margaret’s specialty.”
“How long have you taught at Fairfield College, Sheldon?” Billie’s father asked.
“Three years.”
“And where did you teach before that?”
“I didn’t. I’ve been in the business world all my adult life, until I began teaching.”
Hearing this, Henry interjected, “Well, it’s good to see an educator who has something between his ears besides book learning.”
Sheldon acknowledged this off-handed compliment with a hearty laugh, then turned to Will. “And what do you do, Will?”
“I own two hardware stores and one feed store.”
This launched the two men into a discussion on business, growth, and profits. Billie, who was seated across from Dr. Ackerman, listened to him and her father with great interest. It was clear why her professor was so brilliant in teaching business. He’s had a lot of practical experience.
As dinner progressed to the dessert, Sheldon surprised the family by a question. “Margaret, how did you and Will meet?”
Billie, with a fork full of pie halfway to her mouth, jerked her head up and stared at him, astonished.
Her mother, recovering from her surprise, smiled and looked very pleased.
“It’s been a while since I related it, Sheldon.” A dreamy expression came over her face. “But I remember it as if were yesterday. Will and I were both attending Fairfield when it was a very small college. I was helping to put myself through school by working as a waitress at a malt and sandwich shop near the campus. It was a hangout for the college students. One day, this tall, handsome, auburn-haired young man came in with three girls.” She smiled at her husband and then continued. “The minute I saw him, my heart skipped a beat. The girls seemed mesmerized by him, hanging on every word he said. I know it sounds irrational, but I found myself resenting them.
“I had to wait on them, and I was so nervous I could hardly concentrate on their orders. They all ordered sandwiches and malts.” Margaret heard her husband chuckle. She smiled at him then continued, “When I served Will, I was so nervous, I dumped the sandwich right into his lap.”
Billie found herself laughing even though she had heard the story many times. She glanced at her professor and saw that he, too, was enjoying it.
“Needless to say,” Margaret continued, “I apologized and made him another sandwich. The next time he came in, he had two different girls with him and they all ordered malts. When I served him, I knocked over his malt.”
Everyone at the table laughed. “I was so flustered, I could hardly wipe it up.
He was so nice about it and joked with me. The next time he came in, he was alone. He ordered french fries and a malt. This time, I was determined I wasn’t going to spill anything. I was very careful, but somehow I managed to tip the french fries right into his lap.” Margaret put her hands over her face, laughing with the rest. “You finish the story, Will.”
He chuckled and began, “You see, Sheldon, from the time she tipped over my malt, I was smitten. I came in alone hoping that lightning would strike the third time, because I had planned my tactic. I was delighted when she tipped the french fries into my lap. When that happened, this is how it went:
“Miss, I said in a stern voice, would you please tell me your name?”
‘Please,’ she said, afraid I was going to report her, ‘I told you I was sorry. I . . . I won’t let it happen again.’
“All I’m asking for is your name. I replied.”
‘If I give it to you, are you going to complain to my boss?’
“I said ‘No. It’s just that I can’t talk to you without a name.’ She was still nervous, but she told me it was Margaret Gray. I said, ‘Thank you, Miss Gray. My name is Will Bliss. Now, would you be so kind as to tell me how many nights you work?’”
‘Six.’
“‘What are your hours, Miss Gray?”
“She began to get suspicious. ‘Why do you want to know, Mr. Bliss?’”
“‘Answer me please, Miss Gray, or I’ll have to go to your boss,’ I said. She was beginning to get quite put out with me by now.”
‘My hours are 6:30 to 8:30 Monday through Saturday, Mr. Bliss. Now, I have to get back to work.’
“Please give me one more minute, Miss Gray. May I have a date tomorrow night at 5:30—before you start work—to buy you a sandwich and a malt right here?”
“She was so surprised, she was speechless for a moment, then she asked abruptly, ‘Why?’”
“I answered, ‘Because bringing you here on a date and letting someone else wait on us is the only way I can eat here without getting food dumped on me!’”
Sheldon laughed. “Very clever, Will.”
“And very romantic,” sighed Billie.
Sheldon smiled. His idea was working out even better than he had planned.
-
At Billie’s request, she and her professor were seated on the back porch.
She chose to sit on the swing, while Sheldon sat on a comfortable patio chair.
How pleasant, he thought. The balmy evening air brought with it the comforting smell of fresh-mown lawns and the delicate scent of flowers, mixed with warm, moist earth.
“Dr. Ackerman?” Billie questioned, breaking into his thoughts.
“Yes, Miss Bliss?”
“You and everyone in this household are calling each other by first names, but you continue to call me Miss Bliss. You may call me Billie, if you like. I know you have to be more formal in the classroom, but since we’ll be working together for some time in these private circumstances, it just seems more natural.”
He looked perplexed. “For some time now, I’ve been wanting to ask why your parents named you Billie.”
Her brown eyes twinkled, and with a little smile she said, “I’m sure you think that my father wanted to name me Billie because he wanted a boy.”
“I think one might assume that, yes.”
“That isn’t the case. Papa was
thrilled to have a girl, even knowing that Mother couldn’t have any more children. It was my mother who named me Billie, feeling sad that my father couldn’t have a boy to carry on his name.”
Dr. Ackerman still looked puzzled. “That was very kind of her, but Billie doesn’t fit you,” he said flatly. “I agree that the formality could be done away with under these circumstances, but I wouldn’t know what to call you since, as I said, Billie doesn’t suit you.”
“Well, my middle name is Margaret after my mother, so calling me that would be confusing.”
They fell silent.
Sheldon studied her as she swung gently back and forth on the swing. He remembered the dreamy expression he had seen on her face when she talking about that elusive thing called romance.
Suddenly he smiled. “Bliss fits you.”
She smiled and nodded. “You can call me that if you wish.”
“Bliss it is,” he said.
“Shall I continue to call you Dr. Ackerman?”
“Well, Miss Bliss—I mean, Bliss, I am quite a bit older than you and I am your professor. It’s important that we maintain that relationship.”
“Why?”
“Because, uh, comradery between teacher and student isn’t wise.”
“Why?”
“Miss Bliss, er Bliss, I . . . oh, never mind. It seems whenever we’re at odds, logic escapes me. You may call me Sheldon in private, and I stress, in private only.”
“Sheldon doesn’t fit you.”
Offended, then annoyed, he stated emphatically, “I consider Sheldon a very fitting name for myself.”
“I admit that it’s a very nice and dignified name, but it’s humorless.”
“Humorless, Miss Bliss?”
“Bliss,” she reminded him.
“There are times when Miss Bliss fits you better, and now is one of them.”
She smiled. He fumed.
Finally he asked, “And what would you call me, Miss Bliss, that is not humorless?”
“Dodds.”
“Dodds?” he questioned, totally surprised. “That’s not only my middle name—it’s my mother’s maiden name.”
“It is? How much nicer then that I call you Dodds.”
Sheldon doubted that, but said, “Suit yourself, then Miss—I mean—Bliss.” He shook his head. “This is all going to take some getting used to,” he muttered.
It's Bliss Page 9