Naughty by Nature

by Judy Angelo

  Be good, Tessa. You don’t want to spoil this. And so she kept her butt in her chair and celebrated with Wolf with smiles and laughter and after they’d remembered to let go of each other’s hands they’d raised their glasses in a toast to their new-found alliance. After that, neither of them ate much and even when the server came with a tempting array of desserts on a tray both of them passed. There was just too much to think about, too much to discuss.

  Too soon it was nearing the one o’clock hour, the time when Tessa would have to leave. She didn’t want to go, and it looked like neither did he. They’d reached a place where they wanted to rush off together, right away, and brainstorm.

  But it was not to be. Duty called and Tessa had to be back for her next class at one-thirty. She waved the server over and took care of the bill despite Wolf’s protest. “I invited you to lunch, remember? Now let me handle this. Please.” It took that reprimand to shut him up.

  They were just about to go when they were disturbed by a buzzing sound. Wolf’s cell phone. He gave her a look of apology then raised his eyebrows when he saw the number. He pressed the button to answer. “Hey, Mom. How’re you doing?” he said with a smile Tessa knew would only be reserved for his mother. It was a ‘mama’s boy’ kind of smile. But then that smile disappeared and in its place was a look of horror.

  Tessa gripped the arm of her chair and frowned as she watched his face.

  “Dad? What’s the matter? What happened?”

  There was the distant, tinny sound of a voice on the other side but Tessa was too far away to make out the words. All she knew was, whatever news Wolf was getting just then, it was not good. His face said it all.

  “A stroke? But…how?” Wolf had one hand to his forehead while the other clutched the phone to his ear. “I…don’t believe this.”

  So that was it. Wolf’s mother had suffered a stroke. Tessa could only imagine how he felt just then. She couldn’t even bear to think of her own mother, all the way in Florida, suffering the same fate. Feeling helpless, she could only wait until Wolf had finished his conversation. Only then did she speak. “How is she?” Her voice came out tentative and hoarse, probably due to her nervousness. She hoped things weren’t as bad as they’d sounded from her overhearing only Wolf’s side of the conversation.

  “I have to go to India,” Wolf said and his voice was brusque. He was probably trying to get a handle on his emotions.

  “India?” Tessa stared at him. “That’s where your Mom is?”

  Wolf nodded.

  “But I thought your family came back to Canada when you were eighteen.”

  He nodded again. “We did, but Mom and Dad went back five years ago to teach part-time. They loved New Delhi and I guess they missed it.” Then he heaved a sigh. “But now Mom’s had a stroke and she’s thousands of miles away. My brother's all the way in Japan, working as an engineer. He's got a young family so it's my job to deal with this. I have to go and get my parents.” For the first time since the call he looked Tessa in the eyes. “I'm sorry, Tessa. I didn’t mean to spoil your afternoon.”

  “No, not at all,” she was quick to reassure him. “You have absolutely no control over what happened.” She was rising as she spoke. “And yes, you have to go to your mother. You need to be with your family.”

  He nodded and got up to stand beside her. “I’ll be heading out first thing in the morning.” Then he took her elbow and directed her toward the door. “Come, let’s get you back to school.”

  That afternoon as Tessa stood in front of her class she was hardly conscious of what she was teaching. She just kept seeing Wolf’s face and the pain that had carved itself there.

  And that night as she curled up in bed she kept thinking about Wolf, wondering if he was having a sleepless night. She knew she was, just thinking about him and his family.

  She felt sympathy for him, yes, but to the point where she could not sleep? She hardly even knew the man and she certainly didn’t know his family. So, for the life of her, she couldn’t understand why her heart ached at the thought of his pain.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Three days had passed since Wolf left for India and Tessa had not heard a word from him. Of course, he was under no obligation to call her. Who was she, anyway, but an acquaintance? But still…if only he would call, just so she knew he was all right. And his mother, who he obviously loved dearly, she just prayed she was recovering.

  She’d been walking around in a funk since Wolf’s departure, not wanting to admit to herself that, strange as it seemed, and sudden as it was, in some small way she’d begun to care for him. And the more she kept telling herself, ‘buck up, Tessa; you hardly know the man’, the more concerned she became.

  Finally, despite her fears that it would seem strange for her to be so affected by the news, Tessa decided to call Stone. He was Wolf’s friend. He was bound to know what was going on.

  “Not at all,” Stone said when Tessa enquired with a quick apology in case Wolf wanted the information kept confidential. “The news is not great, I’m afraid. Mrs. Spencer is paralyzed all down the right side of her body, from her face and arms to her legs. As you can imagine, Wolf is quite distressed. He and his mother are very close.”

  “I…I can imagine,” Tessa said in a whisper, wishing she could say more, ask more, but that was not her place. Instead, she bit her lower lip and swallowed the questions fighting to spill out. When she spoke it was only to say, “When you speak to Wolf…please tell him he and his family are in my thoughts.”

  “I’ll do that,” Stone said. “I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.”

  And Tessa had to be satisfied with that. But she knew her spirits would never be settled until she could speak to Wolf again.

  ******

  “Come over on this side, young man. Come where I can reach out and touch you.”

  “Mom,” Wolf groaned, “I’m twenty-nine. Isn’t it time you stop calling me ‘young man’? And anyway, I have a name, remember?”

  “Come here, you, let me pinch that cheek of yours for talking back.”

  And, like a good little boy, Wolf went over to receive his pinch. He was a mama’s boy and proud of it. And as much as he complained about the titles by which his mother addressed him – young man, young sir, dear boy – he loved it.

  It was a special teasing point between his mother and him and he never tired of pulling her leg about it. She’d begun calling him those names when, as an adolescent, he’d complained about the name he’d been given – Wolfgang Armando Spencer. He’d suffered his fair share of teasing at school for what the boys called a sissy name. When he’d demanded to know why his mother had saddled him with a name like Wolfgang she’d told him that Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart was her hero and she’d hoped that one day he, too, would have been a world renowned pianist. Good luck with that, he could have told her. It never worked out. His attempts at piano lessons had been failure after failure until finally he’d refused to bang his way through another lesson. Five years of it was enough. And Armando? He still shuddered when he remembered his mother’s response to his query on that one. A neighbor had a parakeet with that name and she’d fallen in love with it instantly. He knew he could never let it be known that he’d been named after a parakeet.

  As Wolf sank into the chair beside his mother’s hospital bed he reached out and took her good hand in his. He’d been joking with her, accepting her ribbing and even getting in a few jabs of his own. They’d laughed together like always, and if you didn’t notice that Lydia Spencer’s face pulled to one side when she smiled, no-one would know anything was wrong. On the surface they seemed so jovial.

  But inside, behind the brave façade, Wolf was mourning for his mother. How could this have happened to her, a strong fifty-six year old woman who exercised every day, ate the right foods and had never smoked a single cigarette? Strokes were for old people, weren’t they? His mother shouldn’t have had to fear being touched by such an attack, not until she reached about seventy.

&nbs
p; But here it was, an otherwise healthy woman knocked on her back by a sickness without rhyme or reason – at least in this case.

  And it was not just his mom who was suffering. His dad was, too. He looked over at the man who stood on the other side of the bed looking down at his wife with a mixture of bewilderment and concern. With the shock of his wife’s illness he now looked a lot older than his sixty-three years. He looked lost and helpless, a man who’d always been so dominant and bold now reduced to a state of confusion and fear that his vibrant wife would never recover.

  Wolf knew that he had to be strong for both his parents and so, whatever he was feeling inside, all they saw was the smile on his face and all they felt was the firmness of his grip and the warmth of his hug.

  “By tomorrow you’ll be back in Canada,” he said as he squeezed his mother’s hand. “I know the doctors here have done a lot to stabilize you but now I want you home where we can do more tests and get you the therapy you need. I want you home, Mom, where I can be there for you.”

  “You know that’s not necessary,” she said, smiling. “I’ll recover, whether it’s here or back in Canada.”

  “Mom, you're coming home with me and that’s final. It’s time to stop playing the tough girl and let Dad and me take care of you for a change.”

  “I agree.” Previously quiet, Ruben Spencer now spoke up as if awaking from a daze. “Listen to the boy, Lydia. He can talk good sense sometimes so we have to listen.”

  Wolf gave his father a look. Sometimes? But he didn’t have the heart or the strength to tackle him on that one. So he simply said, “Then it’s settled. Two against one. We leave tomorrow.”

  ******

  “In analyzing this poem what are some of the literary techniques we can employ?” Tessa’s eyes skimmed the faces of her twenty-four eleventh grade students. Her gaze settled on one who had his head down, fully absorbed in what looked like a graphic novel. “Franklyn? What do you think?”

  “Huh?” The boy’s head shot up and he gave her a guilty look. “Er, what was that, Miss Tyndale?”

  Tessa frowned, then without releasing him from her glare, she said, “Class, can you tell Franklyn what my last question was?”

  “Literary techniques," some said.

  “How to analyze poems,” one piped up.

  “Yes, Franklyn, today’s class is about analyzing poems.” She walked down the aisle to his desk in the seventh row and plucked the book from his fingers. She ignored his scowl. “Now, can you tell me some of the literary techniques used for analyzing poems?”

  The sullen boy clamped his mouth shut, looking like he didn’t plan to say a word that day. Finally, when Tessa folded her arms and stood staring down at him, he seemed to realize that she wasn’t going anywhere. He licked his lips then a word came out, almost in a groan. “Personification?”

  Tessa continued to stand by his desk but her face softened into a smile. “Very good, Franklyn. See, participating isn’t that hard.” Then she held up the graphic novel. “I’ll keep this for you until after school.” As she was walking back to her desk at the front of the class she glanced around the room. “What else, class?”

  “Simile.”

  “Metaphor.”

  “Imagery.”

  “Diction.” They fired the words at her from around the room. Good. They were paying attention now. Maybe that little shake-up with Franklyn had served a useful purpose, after all.

  “Now let’s look at 'Night Poem' by Margaret Atwood to see how we can apply these techniques in our analysis.” She picked up her poetry anthology from the desk. “Page sixty-four, everyone. We’re going to pull this poem apart layer by layer and see what it really means.” She smiled, warming to her subject. “Reading poems is so much fun, especially when you see what the poem says on the surface and then dig deeper to find a whole new world of meaning. Now, who’d like to read aloud for us?” She looked around. “Any volunteers?”

  A hand shot up in the front. Tessa had to hide a slight grimace of disappointment. Always the same hand. An eager student and high achiever, but she wished she could stimulate others to be just as enthusiastic. She smiled at her eager beaver but held out for just a few more seconds in the hope that a shy fish would bite. And one of them did. Verna George, a new immigrant from the island of Grenada. “Great, Verna.” Tessa gave her a wide smile. “The floor is yours.”

  Verna began reading, her voice soft with the lilting accent of the Caribbean islands, and as she did the rest of the class followed in their books. All heads were down, following the words. Great start.

  And then her phone rang. Yikes! Tessa made a dash for her handbag and began to dig. And dig. And the phone kept ringing. She plopped the big handbag onto the desk and dug some more. Impossible task to find anything in a bag so full of clutter, even a ringing phone.

  The class began to titter. Darn. She always made a point of turning off her phone during class time but today she’d messed up.

  Finally, her fingers clasped the offending device and when she plucked it out of her bag the screen said ‘Wolf Spencer’. Tessa’s heart leaped. She immediately pressed the green button. “I’m sorry, class,” she said quickly. “Verna, please continue reading. I’ll be right back.”

  Tessa hurried out of the classroom and pulled the door shut behind her. She put the phone to her ear. “Wolf,” she said, her voice breathless, “how are you?”

  “Sorry, Tessa. Sounds like I caught you at a bad time.” His voice, low and deep with just a hint of gravel, was like music in her ear.

  “No, not at all,” she started then realizing what she was saying she said, “I mean, yes. I’m sort of busy but…it’s so good to hear from you.” And it was. It had been almost a week since she and Wolf had had lunch together and with each passing day the tension inside her had grown. Maybe she’d had no right worrying about a man she’d seen all of three times but there it was. She’d been on pins and needles worrying about him and there was nothing she could have done to stop it. “How are you, Wolf?" she asked again. "And how is your mother?”

  “I’m hanging in there, Tessa. Thanks for asking. And Mom’s back in Canada with me.” There was a pause and it sounded like he was taking a breath. “It’s been tough for her. The stroke left her paralyzed on the right side. She’s a trooper, but…I don’t know if a positive spirit is enough to get her back to normal.”

  “But the doctors…what are they saying? What about physical therapy?”

  "We’re going to do all that. We’ve got the appointments booked but it’s going to take a lot of work.” His voice trailed off but then it came back stronger and firmer. “But, you know what? We’ll beat this. I've just got to keep her spirits high and do whatever it takes to keep her from getting bored. That’s the killer for her. In her whole life this is the first time she’s had so much free time on her hands.”

  “Wolf, I don’t mean to be forward but would it be okay if I…paid a visit to your mother?” He must think she was crazy but she’d say it anyway. “I know she doesn’t know me but maybe she wouldn’t mind a new face, someone outside of the family. I guess I’m not making much sense, but it might help. You never know…”

  “That’s a great idea.” To Tessa’s surprise Wolf’s voice was tinged with relief. “I’ve been trying to keep her occupied and so has Dad but I think we bore her sometimes. I’m sure she’d welcome female company.”

  Now it was Tessa’s turn to feel relieved. That had been easier than she’d expected. “Great. I can hardly wait to see her.” And you. But she kept that part to herself.

  “And Tessa?”

  “Yes, Wolf?”

  “When you come over to visit, no pranks, okay?”

  Tessa laughed. “No pranks. Promise.”

  They said their goodbyes and Tessa was just about to slip the phone into the pocket of her suit jacket when she remembered. Cell phone off. She powered it down but this was one time she did not regret having left it on during class time. Now, as she slipped back i
nto the class – which, of course, had disintegrated into a room full of chattering teenagers who had forgotten they were supposed to be reading a poem – she felt like she was floating on air. No matter what her students did today there would be no detentions. How could there be, when one day soon she’d be seeing Wolf again?

  CHAPTER SIX

  Tessa was in no hurry. She was over half an hour early for the Sunday afternoon appointment at the home of Wolf’s parents. They lived only twenty minutes drive away in the nearby city of Mississauga. She took her time cruising along Mississauga Road, admiring the stately homes that lined the streets. None for under a million dollars, she was sure. Seeing that she was very familiar with salaries in the field of education her guess was that such an expensive home would be a gift from their son. In her books, another plus for Wolf.

  She found the house – a sprawling home with an immaculately manicured lawn – but drove past it. She would drive around some more, just to kill the time. It would also give her a chance to think up some conversation points. Impulsive as always, she’d blurted out that she’d wanted to visit Mrs. Spencer but now that she was here the doubts came rushing in. What if they had nothing in common? What if she ran out of things to say? And worst of all, what if Mrs. Spencer hated her? Irrational fears, probably, but she just couldn’t help it. As she drove along, she sighed. Indie was right about one thing – she really was ‘Miss Melodrama’, blowing everything out of proportion.

  At exactly four o’clock she pulled into the driveway and was pleased to see that Wolf’s car was already there. She was climbing out of her car when the front door opened and it was the man on her mind who stood there in the doorway.

  He gave her a smile of greeting and came down the steps to meet her. “Good to see you again, Tessa,” he said, extending his hand to her. “Thanks for coming.”

  “No, thanks for allowing me,” she said, taking his hand. “It’s my pleasure.”