by Claire Adams
“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.”
Chapter Sixteen
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 her 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.”
She looked truly disturbed though, by whatever it was she had heard about me.
“It doesn’t sound like it,” she said. “And this doesn’t have anything to do with me wanting to give our relationship a second chance. I don’t think it’s healthy, what you’re doing.”
“What exactly is it that I’m doing?”
“You don’t have to pretend like you have no idea what I’m talking about, okay? We’re beyond that, Leo. Whether or not we’re together, I always want to be someone that you feel like you can talk to, that you can be honest with. So what’s going on? Why are you . . .” her voice lowered, “sleeping with one of your students?”
I did my best to keep my face impassive. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said.
She shook her head. “Please don’t lie to me.”
Neither of us said anything; we were at an impasse. As we stood there looking at each other, I tried to figure out what would be the best way to get out of this situation, as quickly as possible. How had she found out? The only way she could’ve known was from Jack. Unless she had bugged me or something, and I wouldn’t necessarily put that past her. So I could stand here and deny it, and we could go back and forth about it for the next 17 hours, or I could let her think that her concern actually meant something and that I would try to amend my ways.
“Fine,” I said. “You’ve found me out. It’s only one student; it’s not like I’m banging the whole class or anything.”
She winced as I said that last part, as though I’d reached out and hit her.
“Leo,” she said, her voice heavy with disappointment. “Why? Why are you doing this? Do you know how much trouble you could get in? Beyond that, it’s just . . . wrong. I know you’re a better person than that. You’re taking advantage of your authority. I can’t believe that you would do something like this. You’ve got to stop.”
“I don’t see how this is any of your business, actually. I also don’t recall inviting you over here to give me your opinion about ethics and morality.”
“I’m here because I care about you, and I don’t want to see something bad happen. Is that so crazy?”
“Who told you this titillating bit of information?”
She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Actually, it does. Though I already know who it was, anyway.”
“You do?”
“Of course. It was Jack.”
Colette had no ability of a poker face whatsoever, so I knew the second I said his name and saw her expression that it had indeed been Jack.
“He’s just concerned,” she said finally. “We’re both worried about you.”
“I know. You’ve said it about a thousand times already. And you know what, Colette? You’re entitled to that. You’re allowed to be worried all you want—I’m not going to stand here and try to tell you how you should feel about something. But you don’t get to tell me what I am or am not allowed to do either.”
She sighed heavily. “Fine, Leo,” she said. “But when the shit hits the fan with this, don’t come to me wondering why no one tried to stop you. I’ll see myself out.”
She left, slamming the door behind her, which was a rather un-Colette like sort of gesture. She’d probably envisioned the way this whole encounter would go—she’d confront me about Tessa, I’d confess that I was only doing it because I missed the touch of a woman so much—her touch, specifically—and she’d come over and gather me up in her arms and tell me that everything was going to be all right. Unfortunately for her, that was not the way it was going to go down.
After Colette left, I got dressed and went over to Jack’s. I was trying to keep my anger in check, but it was difficult because I couldn’t stand when people meddled in shit that wasn’t any of their business. Especially when it was under the guise of concern.
I didn’t need to call first or find out where he’d be; he’d be in his little apartment, grading papers, answering students’ emails. Weekends for Jack weren’t so much about getting a respite from work; it was just a continuation.
No one was leaving his building when I got there, though, so I rang the outdoor buzzer, and when the intercom came on, I told him to let me in.
“Leo? Oh, hey, sure,” he said, his voice static-y. When the door unlocked, I let myself in, and then walked across the lobby to his ground-floor apartment.
He answered in his bathrobe, hair disheveled, the smell of strong coffee permeating the air.
“I just made some coffee,” he said as I walked in. “Want a cup?”
I did, actually, since I hadn’t made any before I left, but this wasn’t a social call. I’d stop and get a cup at the coffee truck a few blocks over after I left.
“No, I’m good,” I said. “There’s actually a reason for my visit today.”
“Oh?” He shuffled back into the living room, where his coffee table was covered with folders and stacks of papers and different colored highlighters. “I was just trying to get through this mountain of paperwork I’ve got to grade.”
“You should really get yourself a teaching assistant.”
“I’ve considered it.”
> “Anyway, that’s not why I’m here, to talk about the merits of having a teaching assistant.”
Jack smiled. “I wouldn’t think so.”
“Well, I had a surprise visit from Colette today,” I said. “She wanted to talk about the fact that she was so concerned for my well-being. Apparently, you are, too.”
Jack didn’t say anything for a moment, but he at least had the self-respect to not bother denying it.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have betrayed your trust like that. The last thing I want is to see something bad happen to someone because of it. But I saw Colette a couple nights ago, and we got talking, and . . . it just sort of came out.”
“Right,” I said dryly. “And how exactly does something like that just sort of come up? Call me crazy, but I can’t really think of a natural way to work that into a conversation.”
“I don’t remember the exact line of conversation, to be perfectly honest. But we were talking about you. She still feels very strongly about you, Leo.”
“That has nothing to do with anything. You shouldn’t have told her that. I only shared that information with you because I assumed you’d keep it to yourself. Clearly, I was wrong.”
“I haven’t gone and told anyone else,” Jack said. “You’re making me sound like some sort of gossip. Which I’m not. This is coming from concerned friends who don’t want to see you end up getting in a shitload of trouble. That’s what friends do for each other, you know. They watch out for each other. And if they see that their friend is doing something that could potentially get them into a lot of trouble, they don’t just stand back and say nothing.”
“All right,” I said. “Fair enough. You’ve both expressed your concern now. I hear it loud and clear. But what I don’t think the two of you are getting is that I am actually enjoying my life again. I am looking forward to getting up each morning. I’m not thinking about how fucking monotonous everything has gotten, how each day is the same. Because it’s not. Is it the most orthodox thing to be doing? No, but maybe that’s just not my style. And there’s nothing wrong with that. Tessa is 21. She’s not some 15-year-old high schooler who’s confused and trying to resolve her daddy issues. If Tessa wasn’t my student, I don’t think either of you would have anything to say about it. Well, Colette might,” I said, reconsidering.