by Claire Adams
“No,” I said. “He was suddenly interested in hanging out again, but I told him that I wasn’t interested.”
Leo nodded. “He’s in one of my classes. He certainly has no shortage of ladies.”
“That certainly doesn’t surprise me.”
“Does it bother you?”
“Bother me? No. Maybe in the past it might’ve, but not anymore.”
“How long were you two together?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. It wasn’t long. Nothing serious. Well, he didn’t want it to be serious, which is why it ended. But I’m glad it did.” I gave Leo a closer look. “I’m not still interested in him, if that’s what you’re thinking.” It occurred to me that maybe he was jealous, though he didn’t really seem like the jealous type. But he just nodded and seemed satisfied with my answer.
“You just let me know if he bothers you anymore,” he said.
I smiled and gave him a kiss. “I will.”
Later, as I walked to my apartment, my thighs ached; I felt like I was walking bowlegged. But it was a good feeling, and it was hard to keep the smile off of my face. I had a lot of homework that I needed to do tonight, but I felt so good about everything that it didn’t matter. All I needed to do was replay that afternoon in my mind—I didn’t think it was possible to feel so good with someone.
I let myself into the building and checked the mail. I knew there was another letter from the person, even before I turned the envelope over to see the address. Typed, in the same font. I stood there in the lobby and opened it.
Good job on that first paper. Glad that you are up for the challenge. For your next
assignment, you’re going to write an essay on the importance of civic engagement
within a democratic society. Eight to ten pages for this one. MLA citation. Due in
10 days. Your activities with Leo Rochman will remain secret so long as you continue
to turn in quality work. If you choose to ignore this letter, or write a paper that
does not earn at least a B+, we WILL go forward with the information we have on
you two, and the fallout will not be pretty.
I stuffed the letter into my purse and took the stairs up to my apartment, burning with both frustration and anger. I wanted to just rip the fucking thing up. But I knew the danger in that, and that though it might momentarily make me feel good, the consequences of not writing the paper would be far worse.
The next day, my mother called and said that she was in the city and wondered if she could take me out to lunch. I had a long break in between my classes that day, and since I didn’t have feature writing and knew I probably wouldn’t be having any sort of rendezvous with Leo, I told her I would meet with her. She wanted to go to one of her favorite little cafes, which wasn’t too far from the school.
They had us sit at one of the tables on the outdoor patio, which my mother liked because people-watching was one of her favorite things.
“So, things are still going well?” she asked. “With school and everything? We didn’t really talk that much about it that day you stopped by.”
“Yeah,” I said. “I’ve been working pretty hard, actually, and I think that you’ll be able to see that when I get my next grades.”
My mother beamed. “Oh, I’m so happy to hear it. I knew you wouldn’t let things get too out of control. That’s what I was trying to tell your father. He was going on about you possibly getting started down the wrong path or some nonsense like that, but I told him you’ve always had a good head on your shoulders.”
“Thanks for sticking up for me.”
“Of course! I know you’ve got a lot going on, that you must feel like there’s a lot of pressure. It can be hard dealing with that sometimes.”
I nodded. “You’re right—it can be. He did call me the other night, though.”
“Did he?”
“Yes. Basically to say that he was glad I was getting my studies back on track and he knew I was a good kid.”
“Well, good, I’m glad he called. It’s not easy for him, you know.”
“What—talking on the phone?”
“That, and admitting he was wrong.”
“He didn’t actually admit he was wrong.”
“I guess I don’t mean wrong, so much as . . . overly strict sometimes. He can come across a little too harshly. I think he felt that way the day you stopped by. And I want you to know that we don’t expect you to be perfect. I know that’s not realistic. But what we do want is what’s best for you, and sometimes that means being strict. Our hope is that you’ll realize we’re not doing this to make your life difficult, or to try to give you a hard time, but because we want what’s best for you.”
“I know, Mom.”
Our waitress came over to take our order, and I was glad for the interruption because I wanted to change the subject. I kept thinking about that letter I got and the fact that I’d need to somehow fit that in on top of all the other schoolwork I had.
“So,” my mother said, after our waitress left, “is there anything else you want to talk about?” she asked. “Any other good news you want to share? Have you been seeing anyone?”
I stared at her. “Seeing anyone? Why do you think I’d be seeing someone?”
“I don’t think that; I was just curious since you’d been seeing that other person and had never mentioned it. It’s totally fine if you’re not seeing someone, but I wanted to reiterate to you that if you were, I’d hope you’d share that with me. Not all the details or anything, but believe it or not, I still remember what it was like to be your age and how exciting it was to go out on a first date.”
“Right, but the whole reason my grades slipped in the first place was because I was seeing someone.”
“That’s true,” my mother said. “Well, that’s very responsible of you—not to get involved with someone until you’ve got your grades back under control. I’m going to tell your father we had this very conversation, and that you’re committed to getting your grades back on track. I think he’ll be pleased.”
How did we keep coming back to this? It seemed unavoidable. I was actually glad when my mother started talking about Marjorie and Brynn, who had just found out she’d been awarded some grant to go study in Ecuador.
After our food came out, I mostly listened and ate as my mother talked about how nervous Marjorie was to be letting Brynn travel to a new country and how she was considering going with her, though that wouldn’t really be practical. I could tell my mother was sort of fishing, wondering if I had any big project that I was working on that she could brag to Marjorie about.
When we were finished eating, our waitress came and took our plates, and asked if we wanted to see the dessert menu.
My mother looked at me. I shook my head. “I think we’re all set for dessert,” my mother said.
“That’s fine,” I said. “I don’t need to be indulging in any extra sweets.”
The waitress nodded and said that she’d be right back with the check.
“Take your time,” my mother said, taking a sip of her wine. “Just enjoying a lovely day out with my daughter. What are you doing after this? Should we go to a museum? Do a little shopping?”
“I don’t know if I can do that,” I said. “I’ve got a ton of work I need to be doing.”
“There is a new exhibit I’ve been wanting to see at the MoMA . . .” Her voice trailed off, her eyes going past me, fixing on something else. I turned to see what she was looking at, and there he was.
Leo.
Walking down the sidewalk, wearing a black T-shirt and blue jeans.
He caught my eye, and for a second, I thought he was going to keep walking. I felt a thrill at just having seen him out like this, but that thrill suddenly became tinged with anxiety when he veered in our direction.
“Oh, hi,” I said as he approached.
My mother had a flustered look on her face, and looked to me, then him, then back to me.
“Hi
there, Tessa,” he said.
“Mom, this is one of my teachers; this is Professor Rochman,” I said, hoping that I wasn’t blushing too much.
My mother smiled. “It’s a pleasure to meet you!” she said. She held out her hand and they shook. “Would you like to join us?”
“Oh no, I don’t want to infringe on mother-daughter time.”
“It’s not infringing at all! Please—sit! It would be so great to get to chat with one of Tessa’s professors. So long as it’s not crossing any boundaries—I know how strict some schools are about student-teacher interaction, but there’s nothing going on here that shouldn’t be!” My mother giggled, and I realized that she was trying to flirt a little with Leo. And I could tell by the look on her face that she was very taken with him, that she was surprised he was so good-looking.
“Maybe another time,” I said, right as Leo said, “Sure, why not?”
He sat down next to me, his knee brushing against mine under the table.
“So, what class do you teach?” my mother asked, her eyes wide and eager.
“I teach Tessa’s feature writing class.”
“Oh, that’s excellent,” my mother said. “I was so excited when Tessa told me she was going to take some journalism courses. I considered majoring in journalism when I was in college.”
“You did?” I said. She had never mentioned that.
She ignored me. “But then I found out I was pregnant with Tessa, so I dropped out, with the full intention of returning to finish my degree once she was in school. But . . . I never got around to it.”
Leo smiled. “It’s never too late.”
My mother laughed, loudly, and patted his forearm. “Oh, would you listen to him!” she said. “That’s kind of you. But I think I’m probably past my prime when it comes to going out and finding a story.”
“Never too old for that sort of thing,” Leo said. His knee rubbed against mine.
“So how long have you been teaching for?” my mother asked.
“This is my second year. Teaching was not what I originally planned to do. Though I must say,” I could feel his eyes on me, “it’s worked out better than I thought. A rather pleasant surprise, you might say.”
“I bet it must be so rewarding.”
“Oh, it is. In ways you might not expect.”
“That’s something I also thought about. I always thought it would be such a great way to give back—being a teacher. Getting to influence and affect the way that young people see the world. Inspiring them. It must be so gratifying.”
He nodded, and then gave me a pointed look. “You could say that again.”
I had to take a sip of my water to keep from laughing, and hopefully to hide the fact that I was also blushing. Not that I should have been worried about that though, because it would seem that my mother only had eyes for him.
He pushed back from the chair. “I better get going,” he said. “Not that I haven’t thoroughly enjoyed getting to spend some time with the two of you. Quite unexpected!”
My mother beamed. “It was! But lovely nonetheless. So great to have finally had the chance to meet you. Maybe we’ll be able to do this again sometime.”
“I would like that,” Leo said. He smiled once more at my mother, then looked at me, still with the smile on his face, a laugh in his eyes. I had to bite down on my own lip to keep from laughing. This whole situation was excruciating. In a good way, but still excruciating. “I’ll see you in class, Tessa,” he said.
“Okay,” I said. “Bye.”
We both watched him walk off.
“He was so nice!” Mom said. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you mention him before, though.”
“That’s probably because I haven’t.”
“Well, that was really quite kind of him to join us. He’s so . . .” She leaned forward. “Handsome. I just wasn’t expecting a teacher of yours to be handsome like that. Don’t tell your father!”
“Um, don’t worry, I definitely won’t.”
“Not that it would matter,” she said.
“What?”
She waved me off. “Oh, nothing.” But then she rubbed her palms together, looked the direction that Leo had walked off into, and then leaned toward me. “You know, my relationship with your father is still very strong, even after all these years.”
“Okay,” I said slowly, not entirely following why it was she was telling me this. “I wasn’t doubting that.”
“I know. But . . . when you’re married to someone for as long as your father and I have been together, the relationship can be strong, as strong as it’s ever been, but sometimes there are certain things that . . . that fall to the wayside, I guess.”
I nodded, still not sure what she was getting at. Did she think I was suddenly doubting the validity of their relationship just because she thought that Leo was attractive?
“I might as well tell you. Without getting into all the details, of course. Your father’s not so interested in the physical aspect of our marriage anymore,” my mother said.
“Oh,” I said, because I didn’t know what else to say. While I had always thought my mother and I had a good relationship, discussing our sex lives wasn’t something that we had done before. And I wasn’t sure that I wanted to start right now.
But my mother didn’t seem to care about that; she kept right on talking. “And I’ve made my peace with that, I have. We’re not exactly spring chickens anymore. But that doesn’t mean I still don’t have . . . feelings, sometimes. Seeing a man as handsome as Leo reminds me of that.”
I tried to keep myself from squirming in my seat. I didn’t want to come across as a prude, but talking about my parents’ sex life—or lack thereof—was not the conversation I wanted to be having right now.
“You’re allowed to think other men are attractive,” I said. “Even if your marriage is the best ever, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with appreciating someone’s good looks.”
“Well, thank you,” she said. “I appreciate you saying that. I agree, of course—sometimes it’s just a matter of hearing it from someone else. And that teacher of yours definitely is a looker!”
She giggled conspiratorially, and I forced myself to laugh along with her. The fact that my mother had just spent the last half an hour flirting with the very professor I happened to be sleeping with seemed as unlikely as diamonds suddenly raining down from the sky—except that it had just happened.
“Okay, okay,” I said, “you’re starting to sound like a love-struck teenager.”
She had that shit-eating grin on her face she couldn’t have gotten rid of if she wanted to. She really did look like a teenage girl that had just encountered one of her idols. I suppose it shouldn’t have really surprised me that Leo could have that effect on pretty much anyone.
“It sure must be hard to concentrate in class,” she said, more to herself.
“What?”
She shook her head. “Oh, nothing, nothing. And you know what? Where is our waitress? I think I changed my mind; I’d like to order dessert after all.”
16.
Leo
Saturday morning and I was lying in bed, thinking about Tessa and how I’d like our next interaction to shape up. Seeing her out with her mother at the café the other day had been unexpected, but in a good way. And Christ, if her mother didn’t need to get laid, like, yesterday. She wasn’t bad looking, Tessa’s mother, still in shape, not a ton of makeup, dressed nicely. Tessa hadn’t said much about her parents, other than they were going to cut her off if she didn’t get her grades up, but I had the sneaking suspicion that the sex part of their relationship had flown the coop long ago.
I could tell that it was nice outside, even though the blinds were drawn. Also, that it was later than I usually slept in—the bedside clock said it was 10 o’clock. I stretched and kicked back the sheets and imagined what it would be like to wake up here with Tessa next to me. If she did stay over, I’d get up before her and go down on her to wake h
er up; partially because I’d hope she’d return the favor—pretty much every guy’s perfect dream—but mostly because I wanted to.
However, she wasn’t here right now, and I didn’t have plans to see her today, though maybe later tonight we could get together.
I was just coming out of the bathroom, having taken a satisfying leak and splashing cold water on my face, when there was a knock at the door. I paused before going over to open it; people seldom just knocked at the door—usually, they rang the bell downstairs and had to be buzzed up.
I looked through the peephole, thinking that I would immediately postpone any errands/household chores I had to do for the day if it was Tessa. It wasn’t, though; it was the opposite of Tessa: it was Colette.
I sighed and pulled the door open.
“Hi,” she said. “Someone was leaving when I got here, so I just came up. Did I wake you?”
“No, I’ve been up for a little bit.”
“Good. Can I . . . can I come in for a second?”
I raised an eyebrow but stepped back, holding the door for her. She slipped in, looking around, and I couldn’t decide if it was because it had been a while since she’d last been here or she was looking for traces of another woman.
“What’s up, Colette?” I said.
She went into the living room, walked in a circle in front of the coffee table, and then faced me. I couldn’t read the expression on her face; maybe she was about to start laughing, or maybe she was going to burst into tears. Or perhaps she was just about to sneeze. “Do you need a tissue?” I asked.
“What?” she said. “Why?”
“I don’t know—you look like you’re about to sneeze. So. What do I owe the pleasure of this unannounced visit this morning?” I folded my arms across my chest and leaned against the wall. If she was looking for me to invite her to sit down next to each other on the couch, that wasn’t going to happen.
“I heard some troubling news about you, Leo,” she finally said. “Not just idle gossip. I’m worried about you.”
I stifled an exasperated smile. Oh, this was going to be good. “Worried about me? Why? Everything is fine.”