by J. J. Bella
The rest of the staff was intimidating, to say the least. There was a professor from Stanford who'd arrive with a trio of serious-faced interns, all seeming to know have more knowledge of archeology in their little fingers than I had in my whole head. Another team from the University of Chicago was there, all decked out in the latest site-surveying technology. They mostly kept to themselves, which was fine with me- I was here to work, not to make friends.
"Good news," said Professor McCall, coming in from the balcony at our hotel the third evening back in town. "I found a bed and breakfast in town that's going to be available starting tomorrow. It'll be almost an entire house for just the both of us."
"Oh, really?" I asked, pleased by the news. "That sounds a pretty posh."
Professor McCall took a seat on the couch that'd been serving as his bed for the last couple of nights.
"Turns out the mistake was from some idiot from administration back at the school. They'd actually reserved a room in another city."
"Goddamn interns," I said with a smirk.
Professor McCall smiled at this, a sliver of pearl-white teeth showing through his full, sexy lips. I was still a little irked at him for putting me through the paces like he'd been, but now that I was finding my footing, I was ready for him and me to get on somewhat friendly terms.
"So, as of tomorrow, we'll have our own bedrooms, finally. That is, unless this arrangement was working for you."
I was going to protest, but then I remembered that Professor McCall's sense of humor was very much on the drier side, which was a surprise. It turns out that pretty much everything he's said that I thought was him being a glib jerk was just him having fun in his own way. He was kind of smartass, in a way.
"This has actually been working for me so well that I was thinking about asking if you wanted to just split a studio back in Columbia. Think of the money we'd save."
"Yeah," he said, "it'd be great until one of us attacked the other with a kitchen knife."
I let out a snort at this. But before I could retort, Professor McCall's phone rang.
"Excuse me," he said, picking up his phone and stepping out onto the balcony, shutting the door behind him.
I knew that I shouldn't listen in on someone else's conversation, but I was beyond curious about just who Professor McCall really was. Even though I'd been getting to know him a little bit better, it seemed like just below his exterior of cool professionalism was a layer of playful sarcasm; who he was below that layer was something I really wanted to know.
"Hey, Dee," I heard him say. "How's Annie?...Oh, really?"
Dee? I wondered. My first thought was that it was a girlfriend, but I hadn't heard him mention anything about that to anyone. Plus, I doubt he'd be so keen on staying in the same room as a twenty-one-year-old coed if he was seeing someone back home.
"…Yeah, let's hear it…"
Then a bright, full laugh sounded out. His tone with whomever he was talking to was different; it was softer, warmer. He chatted for a while, sounding more friendly and at ease than I'd ever heard him to be.
"OK, Dee," he said. "Good night; Daddy loves you."
With that, he hung up the phone.
A daughter! I thought, realizing the sense it made.
Putting it all into the proper context, I realized how sweet he sounded. It was clear just from listening to the little one-sided snippets of conversation that he really loved her. I watched as Professor McCall stood on the balcony, leaning forward against the raining, his gaze off somewhere in the middle distance.
Rifling through the minibar, I grabbed a half-bottle of red wine and a pair of glasses. The drinks in hand, I knocked on the glass of the door. Professor McCall turned to me, gesturing for me to come out with a small tilt of his head.
I opened the door, stepping out into the warm summer air. The coal-black sky glittered with stars, the moon full and round above. Before us stretched the city, a smattering of small, old-style houses all aglow with lit windows.
"Nice night," he said, turning his attention back to the vista.
"It is," I said. "Beats Midwestern summer humidity."
"No kidding," he said.
Then his eyes fell onto the wine in my hands.
"Now, I haven't been a professor for long, but I know that drinking wine with an underage student has got to be against some kind of conduct code."
"I'm not underage," I said. "My twenty-first birthday was a couple of weeks ago."
He raised his eyebrows. "Well, happy late birthday."
I opened the small bottle and poured the two of us some wine. I wasn't much of a drinker, but now seemed like as good a night as any.
"Cheers," I said, raising my glass.
"To new discoveries," he said.
We clinked the glasses and took our sips.
"I couldn't help but overhear," I said, standing next to Professor McCall and looking off into the distance, "but was that a daughter you were talking to?"
He nodded as he sipped from his glass. "That's right. Her name's Darla. Eight-years-old, though she's got a brain like she's twice that."
"And…no mother?"
I don't know why I felt the need to ask such a personal question. I guess I just wanted to know more about him.
"No," he said, shaking his head softly. "Not for a while."
I didn't pry for any details beyond that.
"Well, speaking of Darla," he said, "you'll be meeting her here in a couple of weeks. She's going to be visiting once we're settled in."
"Oh?" I asked.
I wasn't put off by this, but it did make me feel a little nervous; I never felt like one of those people who had a natural way with kids. I always felt like I was stiff and awkward around them.
"She's great," said Professor McCall. "You'll be fine. And if she gets annoying we can just lock her in the closet."
He flashed another sly smirk; there was that smart-ass streak of his again.
"I'm glad you came," he said. "You seem to be taking to the work. If all goes well, I'll be more than happy to give you a reference, should you be considering graduate school."
"Oh, thanks," I said.
Truth be told, I didn't share his confidence in my abilities, and I wondered if he was just being nice.
Who am I kidding, I thought. If anyone wouldn't be shy about criticism, it'd be him.
Then there was silence. A strange sort of energy seemed to be in the air between us, and though I wanted to talk more, to get to know Professor McCall, I was also happy just to be in his company.
So we stood together, drinking our wine, and listening to the sounds of the evening in the town below.
I couldn't help but have a very good feeling about this summer.
8
What surprised me the most about Roxanne was just how warm she was. After our semester together, where her look-at-me, know-it-all routine was on full display, I was expecting to have to endure a month with a Lisa Simpson-type. But the more we worked together, the more her guard seemed to go down, and the more I realized that she was just a sweet, kind-hearted college girl, and it was simply her eagerness to impress the teacher that gave her the impression of being the little show-off brainiac that I'd assumed she was.
The next day flew by, and we'd made excellent progress at the site. Roxanne worked through her very apparent anxiety fairly quickly and soon proved herself to be a diligent and useful worker. But when the day was done and both of us were covered in dust from the day of being elbow-deep in the ruins at the site, we were both eager to get back to the hotel, collect our things, and make our way over to the bed and breakfast.
"Enjoy the rest of your time in town," said the innkeeper, flashing me a wink as we checked out, his gaze flicking over to Roxanne.
What is this guy's deal? I wondered as we left. He seemed to be pretty invested in the idea of Roxanne and me getting together for some reason. Personally, I was trying to ignore just how attractive she was. Not having the distraction of a pretty yo
ung co-ed walking around the room in a towel was a pretty big reason why I was looking forward to us having our own rooms, to be frank.
Our bags in hand, we grabbed a cab to the other side of town where the bed and breakfast was located. The road leading there was winding, and took us far from the small center of town. Eventually, we arrived at a two-story wooden cottage that sat on a small hill, the ground around it a brilliant, emerald green.
"That grass is almost as green as your eyes," I said as we arrived.
"Oh, thank you," said Roxanne, a soft blush coming to her cheeks.
I checked myself; I'd only said what I'd said as a statement of fact- a simple comparison. But it appeared that I'd accidentally let a compliment slip out. I grew somewhat worried that my slight attraction to Roxanne might continue to bubble to the surface like this. As we took our bags out of the car, I reminded myself that while she and I were both adults, I was the one in a position of authority here, and I needed to be careful to not take advantage of that. I'd taught enough co-eds to know the attraction that authority has for some girls.
We approached the little cabin, which was quite quaint and very charming. I found the key and opened the front door, holding it open for Roxanne. She sidled in past me, her face blushing as she passed.
"Wow," she said, stepping into the place and looking around.
The cottage interior was set up in a very cozy country style, almost like something you'd expect to find in a Midwestern prairie rather than in an eastern European village. The floors were a lovely birch color, the ceilings had charmingly exposed wood beams, and the place was furnished with wooden furniture, the dominant colors while, a sky blue, and a soft yellow. There was even a fireplace in the living room.
"This is so nice," said Roxanne, setting her bags down. "And we have it all to ourselves?"
"Yep," I said, stepping into the dining room and setting my bags on the large farmer's table that extended the length of the room. "It's normally a bed and breakfast, but the owners are on vacation for the summer."
"I've been living in a crappy little student apartment for so long that I'd forgotten what it's like to live in an actual house," she said, plopping down onto a long, white couch in the living room and making herself comfortable.
I walked through the rest of the house, noting the modern kitchen of stainless steel and granite countertops, the spacious bedrooms upstairs, and the large tub in the master bath.
"The owners told me to check out the backyard," I said. "Supposed to be quite the view."
Roxanne heaved her slender body off of the couch and followed me out back. Opening the back door and stepping out, I was struck by what I saw.
The view was something else. There was a seemingly endless stretch of rolling hills before us, a long stream cutting and curving through them. To the right was a forested area that held promise of wonderful walks. The vista seemed to stretch on forever.
"It's beautiful," Roxanne said, looking out.
"Beats the hell out of two people in one cramped room," I said.
"No kidding."
We spent the rest of the evening getting settled and enjoying the space we had all to ourselves. After a few days in a cramped room together, we were both eager to stretch out and relax. Roxanne got in her pajamas and settled in for a night of TV, and I had another chat with Darla while enjoying a glass of wine on the back porch. Soon, it was time to turn in and prepare for another day on site.
The next day was more of the same. Roxanne worked diligently, being as attentive and careful of an assistant as I had hoped. She really seemed to be taking well to the work, and I was pleased that I'd managed to select such a great assistant. What's more, the show-offy attitude that she displayed during the semester seemed to vanish. Instead of a know-it-all girl desperately trying to impress the professor, she simply kept her head down and worked hard. She even managed to warm up to the rest of the crew.
As the last day of the first week drew to a close, I felt the strong urge to do something other than going back to the cottage and go over material. As Roxanne packed up for the day, a thought popped into mind.
"You feel up for going out tonight?"
Roxanne turned away from her notes and looked at me with surprised green eyes.
"Like, out-out?"
"Yeah," I said. "If you don't mind hanging out with your professor, that is."
"Well, as long as you walk ten feet behind so the other students don't make fun," she said with a smirk.
I smiled and shook my head at this.
"What'd you have in mind?" she asked.
"Well, there was a discothèque in town; I figured we could get some molly and dance the night away."
"You know," she said with a smile, "one of these days I'm going to get so used to your sarcasm that I'm going to not take you seriously when you really mean it."
"I kid, I kid," I said. "But there was actually a cool little pub in the center of town if you feel up for grabbing a bite. My treat."
"Well, if it's your treat," she said, flashing another lovely smile.
We finished packing up and climbed into the car that I'd rented a few days prior. We made the drive back into town, turning towards the city center rather than the long, winding path that would take us back to the cottage. After a time, we were parked at the town center, which was really nothing more than the intersection of the two largest streets, a smattering of buildings lining both roads.
"There it is," I said, pointing to a small building with windows illuminated by warm light, a wooden sign in Czech marking the name.
We entered and were quickly led to a small table near a fireplace. The restaurant was quaint and cozy, with warm lighting, a relaxed ambiance, and the gentle murmur of conversation dappling around us. When we sat down, the waitress, a young girl who looked about Roxanne's age, took our orders.
"This is nice," said Roxanne, settling into her seat.
"It is," I said. "We've been working so much, and I didn't want to blow through the entire summer without checking out some of the local fare."
The waitress brought us both tall glasses of beer, setting them down with a smile before walking off.
"You know," said Roxanne, "you're a lot different in person."
"'In person'?" I asked, sitting back, crossing my legs, and taking a sip of my beer. "As opposed to what?"
Roxanne playfully rolled her eyes. "I mean, not in class."
"Oh?" I asked. "How do you mean?"
"You have more of a sense of humor. And you're less uptight."
"'Uptight'?" I asked, a little surprised at this.
Roxanne quickly checked herself, not wanting to offend me.
"I mean, you just seemed to be really tough on me during the whole semester. Especially that final; I almost lost my scholarship because of that."
"But you retook it and excelled."
"Still," she said, bringing her beer to her lips and taking a sip, traces of foam remaining on her lips, "I just thought you hated me or something, like I was one of the students that you were trying to get rid of but never managed to."
I was a little surprised to hear this. Normally, I would never tell a student who I was pushing to excel that that is what I was doing, but I didn't want Roxanne to feel that I had some strange issue with her. So I came clean.
"I only was so hard on you because of your obvious potential. I could tell right away that you had it in you to be a star student. Students like you, however, sometimes need a little push to do their best."
"Really?" she asked, her lovely eyes wide in surprise. "But if I'm such a great student, then why did I bomb your final so hard?"
"You bombed the final because I gave you a test that I would normally reserve for graduate students. I wanted to see how you'd do when given a task that seemed impossible."
"But I got a ‘D'."
"You shouldn't have gotten a single question right. The fact that you knew anything on that test showed me the breadth of your understanding."
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Roxanne allowed a moment for this answer to settle in her mind.
"Oh," she said. "Now I feel stupid."
"Don't," I said, leaning forward and, without thinking, placing my hand on hers. "There's a reason why you're the one I brought on this trip."
Without responding, Roxanne's eyes flicked down to my hand. Then, I realized what I was doing. Pulling my hand back, I cleared my throat, now feeling as though I may have overstepped some boundary. Before either of us could speak, however, the waitress arrived with our dishes, which were two plates of meat, potatoes, and gravy- simple but delicious.
As we started into our meals, I quickly changed the subject to something more lighthearted, the dinner passing pleasantly. But as the evening went on, all I could find myself thinking about was how Roxanne's hand felt, that soft skin on mine.
"I'm having a really nice time, Professor McCall," said Roxanne as we walked down the road back to the car.
"Please," I said, "call me Evan."
9
"Daddy!"
I couldn't help but smile as I watched Evan's daughter run from the car and into his arms. She covered his face in kisses, and seemed beyond ecstatic to finally be seeing her dad again. Darla was an adorable little girl with her father's blue eyes and dark hair.
"Dee!" he said, holding her close and twirling her in the air.
Standing near the car was a stern-faced, middle-aged woman who I guessed was the nanny who would be staying with us during the week that Darla was here. She was a stock, blond-haired woman with tight curls of blonde hair and didn't look like she had a single curve to her body.
"Mr. McCall," she said in a thick Slavic accent, approaching Evan and Darla. "I am Lana."
"Thank you so much for taking this assignment on at such short notice; my sister was originally going to come, but she had some family issues to attend to."
"It is nothing," Lana said. "However, today I can only bring her to you from the airport. Tomorrow I can begin."