Tenure Track

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Tenure Track Page 28

by Victoria Bradley


  Visually assessing his body, she returned the compliment. And she meant it. Lewis had kept himself in very good shape. There was something about his mature figure, with it’s smattering of chest hair and firm tone that just seemed more fully formed than that of guys her age. This was indeed a man, not a boy.

  Looking at his naked form, she supposed he wanted what most guys her age did. Kissing down his neck and chest, he stopped her as she started to move her mouth past his waist. “No,” he whispered. “Let me.”

  He carefully parted her legs and bent down to taste her womanly sweetness. She was a bit taken aback at first, simply because no one had ever performed that particular act on her before. No guy she had ever dated had even suggested it, though they often tried to convince her to perform a similar act on them.

  As his tongue carefully caressed her tender female tissue, she felt a strange, unfamiliar sensation. It took a few moments of uncontrollable gasping and shrieking before she realized that she was having her first orgasm. Sensing her pleasure, he continued, moving his tongue deeper inside her as he slid his hand up to caress her nipples. Mandy had never experienced such a loss of control before, making squeals and sounds like something had possession of her body. She grabbed the back of Lewis’s head with both hands, holding on tight to his hair. At one point she thought she just could not stand anymore. It felt too good.

  Satisfied that he had achieved the goal of his many erotic dreams, Lewis finally came up and slowly kissed his way upwards, stopping to suck on one nipple, to more gasps of delight. He then leaned back and lifted her body to straddle him. “Get on top,” he breathlessly ordered.

  Suddenly remembering her parents’ number one rule of dating, she asked if he had a condom, which was quickly produced from his wallet while barely breaking stride. She wrapped her legs around his buttocks as he lay back on the couch with her above him. They looked directly into each other’s eyes as they joined together. It was a moment of sheer ecstasy. They took their time enjoying one another. Lewis loved bringing her to fruition again and again. By the time he finally peaked, both of them were physically exhausted. They lay together for several minutes just kissing before finally separating as she stretched out across his body.

  Neither thought about how long they had been at it until Mandy’s stomach growled and Lewis realized it was after 8:30. They quickly showered together and fed each other dinner where they lay on the couch, still naked. There was something strangely comforting about eating in the nude, as if to reflect the level of emotional comfort they felt with one another.

  They dozed off with their bodies pressed against one another. Sometime in the middle of the night, Lewis awoke to find Mandy fully dressed and getting ready to leave. He begged her to stay until morning, but she pointed out that she had not brought any toiletries, nor a change of clothes. And she would be damned if she was going to wear something his ex-wife had left behind! With one last kiss, she left him lying on the couch. He slept there the rest of the night, replaying their evening over and over again in his dreams.

  Chapter 19

  Forgiveness

  While Jane’s family was visiting Bubbe and dealing with assaults, Lewis was escaping thoughts of the impending mediation halfway around the world, spending Winter Break in Australia with his younger brother. Upon learning of his plans, Sheila Stevens offered to keep Clint while Lewis was away. Lewis was surprised, but grateful that his companion would not have to spend three weeks in a kennel. When dropping off the dog, Lewis received an honor never bestowed upon any member of the department—a peak into Dr. Stevens’s home. Wearing a loose-fitting sweatsuit, she welcomed him and his companion into the one-story house as if their presence was a common occurrence. She had a dog bed and bowlful of treats awaiting her houseguest just inside the front door.

  Upon entering the home, Lewis was struck by the artistry of the décor. Paintings, sculptures and handcrafted items were integrated so well into the design that the eyes of visitors never even registered modifications made to accommodate Sheila’s physical condition. The crowning piece was a mural that covered her study, depicting a building he recognized as the university’s Center for African American Studies, surrounded by professors and students chatting with famous African Americans from history. The style matched that of the print of great black leaders that hung in Mandy’s home. “Wow!” he exclaimed in approval, scanning the recesses of his mind for the name of the artist.

  Before he could retrieve the information from his memory, Sheila casually said, “Thank you. My husband painted it.”

  Lewis’s face hit the floor at the mention of a spouse. He just assumed, as most people did, that Sheila was a lesbian. He never really knew why he thought that. It was just what everyone told him and it seemed to fit with her reticence about sharing personal information. At some point, rumor had become truth merely through lack of evidence to the contrary.

  As with most of his interactions with Dr. Stevens, Lewis knew better than to acknowledge the privilege she had bestowed upon him. For some reason, she seemed to like him, though he never understood why, nor did he ever feel worthy of her kindness. But he was grateful for it.

  The trip Down Under proved to be just the respite Lewis needed. Donnie was as fun and entertaining a travel guide in person as on television and the ‘Net, taking his brother on adventurous hikes to the Outback as well as tours of important historical sites. Lewis refrained from sharing his current problems, choosing instead to follow his younger brother’s example of living in the moment.

  The respite only lasted until he was airborne again. The long plane ride back to the United States offered plenty of downtime for Lewis to brood over the upcoming mediation. By the time his plane landed on U.S. soil he was emotionally contorted into a tight ball of stress. He arrived home on Sunday and made arrangements to retrieve his dog from Sheila the following day. She would be on campus attending the Martin Luther King, Jr. Day rally and preparing for Tuesday’s opening classes.

  Lewis had to stifle a laugh when he entered her office. The air was crisp, so Sheila had decked Clint out in a small, blue sweater that fit snugly over his furry frame. The dog looked as if he had gained a pound or two during vacation. Upon seeing his master, Clint let out a lazy yawn and lumbered over to sniff the cuff of Lewis’s trousers. “Looks like somebody’s been well taken care of,” Lewis said, rubbing the mutt’s ears.

  “And it looks like someone else spent a great deal of time in the sun,” Sheila diagnosed, noting the reddish-brown hue of Lewis’s skin. “Or did you just decide to become a person of color for the occasion? I’m headed to the rally right now. Why don’t you and Clinton accompany me?”

  Knowing better than to refuse the honor, he and Clint escorted her outside, little knowing they would be met by Blanca Dejean. Both realized Dr. Stevens had set them up. Each quietly determined not to fail the test. Instead, they silently declared a truce and pretended neither was present as they took opposite positions alongside Dr. Stevens’s wheelchair, like two guards accompanying a queen.

  As they approached the Center for African American Studies, the site of the rally, Dr. Stevens was indeed treated like royalty, surrounded by a host of fellow scholars and local civil rights activists. As Sheila engaged her colleagues in conversation, Lewis and Blanca retreated to the background like good foot soldiers, their roles enhanced by stiff body language born from mutual discomfort. Lewis broke the silence first. “She’s quite a lady, isn’t she?” he said admiringly as Sheila held court.

  Blanca was not about to let him off the hook that easily. “Why’d you come here?” she whispered accusingly.

  He resisted the urge to start an argument. “Because Dr. Stevens asked me to. You should know that she’s a hard person to refuse.”

  Blanca continued to glare at him defiantly, then shook her head in disgust. “Don’t look so scared. I’ll do her proud. I don’t know why she likes you.”

  “Do you mean Sheila or Mandy?” he whispered back.

/>   “Both!” she said, shaking her head again.

  “She has a positive effect on people,” he noted.

  “Which one?” Blanca asked.

  “Both.” he repeated. For half a second, they exchanged agreeable grins. Then, just as quickly, Blanca erected a stiff posture. “Don’t ‘spect me to tell ‘Manda that, in case you thought it’d help ya tomorrow.”

  Rather than try to defend himself, he retreated from the battle, waiting silently through the speeches until a respectable moment arrived for him to leave. He thanked Sheila once again for taking care of Clint.

  “Anytime,” she said, adding: “Good luck tomorrow, Dr. Burns.”

  Neither Jane nor Gary was allowed to attend the mediation meeting, but neither could think about anything else. Jane fielded hourly calls from the dean until she could no longer stand his sputtering and left him to voicemail. Meanwhile she tried to distract herself with security issues. Over the break, someone had broken into Horndog’s office and stolen his PC. It was the department’s third such break-in this year. She patiently endured Dr. Gould’s hour-long lament over his lost masterpieces, fully aware that he only used the computer as a fancy electric typewriter and backed up everything on the university network.

  While campus tech geeks retrieved his files, she consulted the university police chief about installing more security cameras in Hammond. After the Hampton murders, the university had invested millions of dollars in new security systems, though most were limited to outside areas. Concerned about privacy, the administration only authorized camera installation inside buildings when faculty specifically requested the devices, although by law only private residences, such as dorm rooms, and bathrooms were off-limits to cameras. As a state institution, every other foot of campus space was subject to the eyes of big brother.

  Jane’s conversation with the chief was pleasant enough. He was always as gracious and helpful as his late father had been, though Jane still could not get used to calling him “Chief Acevedo” instead of “Ralph Jr.” He promised to send over his security director to evaluate Hammond and recommend placement for new cameras and other security improvements.

  Off campus, Lewis and Mandy spent much of the day trying unsuccessfully to avoid thinking about the meeting. At this point they had been broken up twice as long as they had actually been a couple, but neither could get the other out of their system.

  Lewis could not grasp his own feelings—an empty ravine of loneliness far deeper than the ditch left by his wife. During the summer he had felt so alive, more alive than at any time in his life. Now he merely existed within a black hole that sucked the joy out of everything that he touched, even teaching. He hoped this last meeting would provide whatever he needed to move on and not miss her so much. He also hoped it would provide her with the ability to not despise him. He hated the thought of her becoming a permanently embittered clone of her mother.

  That morning, Lewis searched back and forth through his closet trying to find the perfect thing to wear. He wanted to look professional for the mediator, but attractive to Mandy. He stilled wanted her to want him, even if they could never be together. Finally, his hand fell upon the perfect item.

  At that same moment, Mandy was going through a similar dilemma. She wanted to look mature, yet attractive. Make him realize what he’s missing. No, that’s too mean. She was beginning to regret this whole mediation idea. How had everything gotten so out of hand? Everything had seemed so perfect last summer.

  She had known realistically that it could not last, but while they were together it had been sheer bliss. What she had felt for Lewis was so powerful it almost overwhelmed her, even before they became lovers. That feeling remained.

  She had not dated anyone in the months since they broke up, and not just because of some masochistic desire for abstinence. College guys now seemed much less appealing, focused more on hooking up than forging an emotional connection. She had come to the conclusion that knowing how to really please a woman took time and care. She could not imagine any of the younger guys who hit on her at work or at the clubs sending her a dozen roses after a night together. Sometimes it seemed the euphoria she felt with Lewis had ruined her for future relationships.

  At least she still had her BFFs. Blanca, Julie and Gus had become her shield against the world, listening to her whine, cry and rage. Gus kindly offered to kick the professor’s ass with his one good leg. She declined, but appreciated the sentiment, knowing he would put aside his personal affinity for the professor if Mandy gave the order. Julie had tried to get her to move on and start dating again, while Blanca advocated giving into the rage, thus releasing toxic emotions. The group had also devised an elaborate fantasy in which they kidnapped Lewis, cut off his genitals and force fed them back to him, at which point Mandy decided the entire household had been watching too much horror porn.

  The roommates had encouraged her to post the suggestive photo and to vent into Gus’s camera. At the time, such public vengeance had indeed been cathartic. Mandy laughed gleefully when Internet friends came up with the nickname of “Puptent.” All was in fun until her mother found out and threatened Lewis’s career. Mandy knew that Katherine meant well, but she also knew how much her mother viewed everything through the prism of her own negative experiences with Darryl. It was an ongoing battle that Mandy had been living her entire life.

  She was determined not to allow Lewis to become a casualty in her family war. She did not really want to hurt him, nor even to hate him. She missed his friendship as well as his love. Katherine’s complaint prevented them from having either again, but Mandy did not want any bad feelings to linger. She had seen too much pus from such festering wounds. And so it was that she had suggested this mediation. It was time to sew the wound shut. It might leave a small scar, but at least it would be healed.

  Phyllis Smith prepared to convene the meeting in the same conference room where Mandy and her mother had spoken with Jane and Gary, now both sequestered in their respective offices awaiting the outcome like eager fans listening to football results. Dr. Smith moved the chairs away from the table and set them up in an open triangle, so that the parties could talk to one another on an equal footing.

  Phyllis had been a mediator for 10 years, after 20 more as a family therapist. She had intervened in a wide variety of situations, from labor disputes to divorces. In her professional view, there were very few interpersonal disputes that could not be resolved through mediation. This case of the professor and student was fascinating for its combination of labor dispute and romantic entanglement. Her experiences had taught her that, ultimately, the root cause of all such conflicts was the same—people not listening to one another. Her job was to let people talk and make sure the other party really listened.

  After speaking individually with both Mandy and Lewis, it was clear that they had left many things unsaid during their break-up. What surprised Phyllis a little was the depth of their lingering pain, since the romantic relationship had only lasted three months. Both parties struck her as reasonable, mature people. Their reasons for ending the relationship had been sensible and understood by both, albeit carried out in an unsatisfactory manner. In her talks with Mandy, Phyllis the mediator understood that the student had suggested mediation as the best way to end Katherine’s vendetta and salvage Lewis’s career. Phyllis the family counselor sensed that Mandy needed this meeting for personal healing as well. If mediation accomplished that, then Katherine’s goal of helping her daughter might just be achieved.

  Mandy came in first, dressed in a casual but demure violet dress that had taken three shopping trips to find. Then Lewis arrived, dressed in his usual khaki slacks and tweed jacket. He shook Phyllis’s hand and took his seat without looking directly at Mandy, who, in contrast, was eyeing him closely. It took a moment for her to realize that he was wearing the exact same blue denim shirt that he wore the night they first made love. “Nice shirt,” she said, breaking the ice.

  For the first time in months, he l
ooked her way and they smiled at one another. The mediator could tell that some hidden message was passing between the two, but could not comprehend its meaning. Phyllis called the meeting to order, laying out the ground rules for both of them in her smooth counselor voice that reminded Lewis of a GPS navigator. She asked Mandy to begin by explaining her unresolved issues.

  “Unresolved,” Mandy repeated slowly, as Lewis braced himself for the worst. Surprisingly, she began by looking at Phyllis. “First, for the record, Dr. Burns and I did not have a sexual relationship when I was actively enrolled as a student at this university. At no time during the course of my working for him did he engage in any behavior that I would consider sexual harassment. To the best of my recollection, at no time did he serve me alcohol. Any relationship that we may have had was within the bounds of the rules set forth by this university. So I have no complaint against him and wish the university administrators would let the whole thing drop.”

  “Duly noted,” Phyllis replied, taking notes.

  Lewis breathed a sigh of relief. Then Mandy looked back at him. “Look me in the eyes, Lewis,” she ordered. He grudgingly complied.

  “Okay,” she began, clearing her throat. “Lewis, I’m sorry you’re in trouble over this thing. I never meant for that to happen. That was Momma’s idea, totally. She hates you, by the way, but then again, you know she’s kinda that way with all men. Daddy’d like to hurt you too, but then he’d have to work through his twelve steps again, so I told him not to.” Lewis laughed slightly, feeling more at ease over the trajectory of the conversation.

  “I’m also sorry about the Web stuff.”

  “I’m sure I know who’s responsible for that,” he replied sarcastically.

 

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