by Ali Parker
“You seemed to have found your way,” I said walking alongside him.
He nodded. “With a lot of hard work and a lot of boring jobs to get me there. My father used to always say the cream rises to the top. Whenever I was struggling, he told me not to let myself get pulled to the bottom. In many ways, he was an early Dory.”
“Dory?”
“The blue fish,” he clarified. “The one that said just keep swimming.”
I burst into laughter. “I think I know what you’re talking about. That seems very apt.”
In the back of my mind I wondered why he would know about a cartoon. He didn’t seem the type to watch cartoons for fun, but I supposed we all had our little secrets. His Disney fetish wasn’t so weird.
We walked across campus, talking about the changing weather. We made our way through the line and he ended up buying my lunch. It could have been construed as a lunch date, but I told myself it was a guy doing something nice.
“Thank you,” I told him sitting down across from him.
“No problem. Thank you for giving me some time.”
“You can’t buy an A,” I said with a wink.
He laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind if things start looking grim.”
“You couldn’t afford to buy my A,” I teased.
He raised an eyebrow. “That must be a mighty expensive grade.”
“Did you get everything handled yesterday?” I asked casually.
He nodded. “I did. As much as I could.”
I didn’t get the impression he wanted to talk about it and I wasn’t going to pry. He was a student—a stranger. One lunch did not make us friends. I could tell he was a private person. I respected that. I didn’t like to divulge a lot of information about myself either. It seemed like a waste of time to spill all your dirty secrets and go through the whole process of getting to know someone only to have them disappear from your life.
“Last time we had lunch, you mentioned you were in real estate before you retired. Were you like one of those people who flip houses?” I asked him.
He smiled. “Yes, but on a much bigger scale and I wasn’t the guy swinging the hammer. I really just bought and sold properties.”
I laughed. “Ah, you were the guy doing the research and finding the diamonds in the rough.”
“That was me.”
“Was it difficult?” I asked, taking a bite of the BLT I had made for myself from the items offered up here in the cafeteria.
He shrugged. “At first, I had some real failures, but you develop an instinct and you learn to trust your gut. You also learn what to look for. Just because someone tells you something is great, you don’t believe it, no matter how convincing they are.”
I laughed. “Ah, like a used car salesman?”
“Exactly like a used car salesman,” he said with a small laugh. “What about you? Why Greek mythology? That seems like a very specific course of study.”
I shrugged. “I suppose it is. I can’t say specifically what brought me to the Greeks, but I was also interested in the idea. I read some Shakespeare and his stories intrigued me. I loved the idea of this world of gods and goddesses doing things that normal people do.”
He smiled, nodding his head. “Do you like fantasy?”
“Like dragons and Lord of the Rings stuff? No. I don’t think of the Greek gods as fantasy. I think of them as history.”
He looked surprised. “So, you believe in it all?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know that I don’t believe in it. I think you have to wonder where the stories came from. Every myth stems from something. What sparked the stories? And it is so elaborate. It would have taken a mastermind to just make up this whole world of people and give them each a story.”
He looked thoughtful. “Isn’t that what fiction is made of? Don’t authors, like Tolkien, create fantasy worlds?”
“I suppose but the mythology goes back centuries.”
“I like that you are so enmeshed in the idea,” he said. “It’s what makes you a good teacher. You make it sound like you were there. When you talk about them, I feel like I’m listening to a good gossip sit down at the local bar.”
I burst into laughter. “I guess that’s a good thing.”
“It is. If they weren’t such assholes, I think I might have liked to meet a few of them.”
“Me too!” I exclaimed. “I would love to see the temples and then I could have been good friends with a few of them.”
“Is teaching something you plan on doing until you retire?”
“I think so. I mean, I like it so far. I suppose it’s more about how long they will let me teach it.”
“I imagine there are not a lot of you out there.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Lot of you?”
“With the specific knowledge of Greek mythology. I’m sure a lot of people have some knowledge, but you have all the knowledge.”
I giggled like a schoolgirl. “It is definitely a unique qualification and I suppose it isn’t as common as some of the other subjects, but there are people who are far more knowledgeable than I am.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
I smiled. “Thank you. That is very nice.”
“I really have enjoyed the class so far,” he said.
“Are you thinking you might sign up for next semester?”
He shrugged. “I’d like to, but I’ll have to see how things play out.”
I nodded. I got the idea things were unsettled for him. He seemed a little distracted, like he was thinking about something else, but not something good. It was hard not to ask him personal questions. I found myself looking at him while he looked down at his plate. He was a handsome man. He had a very refined quality about him, but yet humble. He was seasoned. A man that had seen enough in life to gain some experience but not so old he had nothing left to learn.
“I have a feeling you’ll be a great student, especially if you decide to pursue religious studies.”
“Thank you.”
He wiped his hands on a napkin. I realized then that we had finished our lunch. We had used up the full hour talking about each other instead of the missed class.
“I’m sorry,” I blurted out.
“For?”
“I have to get to another class. I got so busy talking about me I didn’t get to fill you in on the missed class information.”
“What about lunch tomorrow?” he offered.
I grimaced. “I can’t.”
“Sunday?”
I shook my head. “No, I mean, I can’t. I’m a professor and you’re a student.”
He grinned. “I see. I guess I forget I’m a student. I haven’t said that in a long time.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, feeling awful about rejecting him.
“I can meet you in the library if that is an appropriate meeting place for a teacher and student,” he suggested.
I nodded. “I really am sorry to be a stick in the mud but I’m still kind of new and I don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea.”
“It’s cool. I understand.”
“I’m sorry. I’ll put together some notes and email them to you.”
“That would be great,” he said, tossing the napkin onto the tray. “I would really appreciate it. I have a thing about doing things well. I don’t like to half-ass anything. I either do well or die trying. I’m sorry if I overstepped by asking you to lunch. I didn’t even think about the impropriety of it.”
“It’s okay, really.”
We both got to our feet, picking up our trays and taking them to the trash. “Thanks for keeping me company, again,” he said.
“You’re welcome. Thank you for lunch. I’ll see you Monday.”
He waved and walked out. I had to watch him leave. He was a long-legged man with a toned body. He wasn’t overly thin, but he wasn’t a hunk of beef either. I shook my head. I couldn’t even look at him like that.
He was a student. Students were off-limits. They weren’t even an
option for me to look at. I sighed and headed back to my classroom. It sure would have been nice to have met him anywhere else. He was a man I could have dated and enjoyed. He was a man I could have a real conversation with and not feel like I was talking over his head.
Damn my luck that I find a great guy that was off-limits. Part of me secretly hoped he wouldn’t return to school. Then maybe there would be a chance I would run into him somewhere else. I was probably getting ahead of myself. I was assuming he was interested in me when he had only asked me to lunch to get the information he needed.
“Jumping ahead of yourself there, Leila,” I mumbled.
I put him out of my mind, focusing on the class. Could it really hurt to have a study date in the library? I was a teacher, wasn’t it my job to teach?
Chapter 11
Christopher
I woke up feeling refreshed, like I had a second shot at making things right with Olin. In reality, it was more like a tenth or twentieth shot. It didn’t matter. I was going to try again. Fishing had to be the key. When he was younger, he had enjoyed fishing. Maybe there was a chance he still did. I hoped so.
I felt desperate. I was starved for his attention and acceptance. I had a good idea of what it felt like to be a child starving for attention from his parents. I was almost willing to buy him a car just to get him to like me a little bit. I knew I couldn’t. He’d only like me for five minutes and he sure as hell wouldn’t respect me. I had to stay strong. I couldn’t let him win in this battle for what I perceived to be his future.
Everything I said and did in these crucial developmental years mattered. I wanted him to be a good man one day. He needed guidance from a father, not advice from a pal. I hated having to be the bad guy. I hated having to tell him to get his shit together, but that was my job. Carlie would want me to make sure her only child turned out well.
I would do that. That was the least I could do for her after all she had done for me and Olin. I took a quick shower, excited for a new day, another chance to make my son realize I wasn’t all that bad.
I made coffee and waited for Olin to wake up. It was a Saturday morning and he was sixteen. Those two things didn’t exactly go together all that well. I spent some time on the patio, watching the sun rise, and felt hopeful it would be a nice day.
I heard footsteps in the kitchen through the door I had left partially open so I could hear him. I walked into the kitchen, trying to judge his mood by the way he was drinking orange juice. I wasn’t that good. “Hey,” I greeted, trying to sound casual. “I was thinking we could go fishing today. It’s about time we checked out what that lake has to offer.”
“No thanks,” he mumbled, not even looking my way.
“Olin, we need to get out of the house,” I told him, ready to drag him kicking and screaming down to the lake.
He groaned. “I’m out of the house every day.”
“I mean to do something besides school. It will do us good to get some fresh air and soak in some sun.”
He shook his head and put the OJ back in the fridge. “No thanks.”
I sighed, hating to pull the dad card, but I had to. “Olin, yes. This is something we need to do. I insist.”
“Why?” he snarled. “Why do you want to go fishing so bad? If you’re craving fish, go to the store and buy some.”
I was not going to let him frustrate me until I gave up. I had done that too often. “Olin, we need to spend some time together,” I said. He whipped his head around and glared at me. “Wait, hear me out.”
“Why? I don’t get what your deal is. Do you think taking me fishing changes anything?”
“Yes,” I answered solemnly. “I think it will if you give it a chance. I want a chance to be the parent I wasn’t. Please. Give me a chance.”
He didn’t say anything for several very long seconds. “Fine,” he groused. “I’ll go change.”
“Thank you.”
Once he was out of the kitchen, I breathed a sigh of relief. I couldn’t believe he had agreed to go with relatively little effort. That had to be a good sign. At least, I was going to call it a step in the right direction. I looked up at the ceiling and silently thanked my late wife for her divine intervention.
It was thirty minutes later when Olin and I were loaded into the truck with our fishing poles and gear. I didn’t dare fish off the dock. That would make it too easy for him to get up and walk away. I drove out to a place one of the locals had told me about. It was relatively empty, giving Olin and me plenty of privacy.
We set up our chairs, baited our hooks and casted out. We used to go fishing a lot when he was younger. I hated that I had let that time slip away from me. That was my burden to bear, but I was going to do my best to take advantage of every minute I had with him from now on.
“Little different than fishing in December back in Minnesota,” I commented.
He actually chuckled. “You mean ice fishing versus actual fishing.”
I grinned. “Yes, I suppose I do. I think I like this kind of fishing a lot better.”
“I miss home, but I like the sunshine.”
“Me too. I like being able to walk out to the truck, start it, and go. I don’t miss shoveling snow or walking on ice all the time.”
He grinned. “Like that time last year when you wiped out and had to go to the emergency room?”
I grimaced. “When you hit forty, your body doesn’t bounce as well as it used to. I thought for sure I broke a hip or something.”
He smirked. “Guess you are kind of old.”
“I am.”
We fished in silence for another thirty minutes. I had enjoyed the very brief glimpse of the old Olin and wanted him back. I could feel him pulling away.
“I’m done,” he said.
“Done?”
“Fishing. This was supposed to be us bonding, right? We bonded. I’d like to go home and eat.”
“Olin, we’ve been out here for thirty minutes and haven’t even gotten a bite.”
He groaned. “This is stupid.”
“Olin, listen, we need to talk. I know things haven’t been great between us. I know that, and I take full responsibility for it, but it’s time to make a change. We’re all we have in this world. Wouldn’t you rather have me to depend on then no one at all?”
He scoffed. “You make it sound like we’re the last two people on earth.”
“We are in some ways. You lost your mother. I can’t imagine what that must be like for a teenage boy, but I also need you to understand that I lost my wife. My best friend.”
“Dave was your best friend,” he retorted.
I could tell he was trying to be tough, but I could hear the pain in his voice. “Dave was my best guy friend, but your mom was my partner in all things. She was my other half.”
“You guys hardly talked. You were always gone.”
It was my turn to fight back the knot of emotion forming in my gut. “You’re right. I was. I will carry that guilt for the rest of my days. I know I was gone a lot. I know I left Mom alone a lot. I swear, I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought I was giving us a better life. Honestly, I kept telling myself once we were comfortable, I would retire. Your mom and I talked about our future. We talked about our life once you were in college. She wasn’t supposed to die.”
He was quiet. “But she did. Alone.”
“She knew she was loved. I had talked to her earlier that day. We talked about the weekend and we were planning to get away. She loved you with all her heart.”
He cleared his throat. I knew the feeling. It was a common reaction every time we talked about her or those final moments. Speaking her name led to a tickle in the throat followed by a hard lump that sometimes made it difficult to breathe.
“I don’t understand why we have to make it a thing,” he finally said.
“Make what a thing?”
“Every time you want to hang out, you want to talk and stuff. Can’t we just be normal? I don’t want to do the psychobabble
stuff.”
I smiled and nodded. “I understand. I just wanted to make sure you knew how I felt. Now you do. Thank you for hearing me out. I’ll leave it alone, but—”
He groaned. “What?”
“But if ever you need to talk about anything, you can talk to me.”
He didn’t answer me. I didn’t need him to. I had gotten my five minutes of normal Olin and I would have to accept it as enough. I felt a lot better about the situation. We’d had moments like this in the past, but this time, it felt like we had really connected. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but I wanted to believe we had finally turned the corner. I wanted to believe we were on our way to a normal, happy life.
“Can we be done now?”
And just like that, the moment was lost. “We haven’t caught anything.”
“Did you actually expect to?”
I shrugged. “Yes, actually I did. I was ready to clean some fish and fry it on the grill.”
He didn’t look pleased with that answer. “I guess I can manage a bit longer. At least it isn’t freezing.”
I laughed. “No, it isn’t. I like the sunshine. I like being warm.”
“Me too. I miss home but I don’t miss the snow.”
“I like it here,” I said, hoping he felt the same way.
“I do too,” he admitted in a quiet voice.
For the first time since I had gotten the call about Carlie’s accident, I felt like I had done something right. Moving to Texas had been the right thing to do. It wasn’t going to be all smooth sailing, but we were on the right path. I could feel it in my bones.
We fished for another hour. I kept my comments focused on fishing. I didn’t want to push him too hard with the mushy stuff. I felt like we had a breakthrough and I didn’t want to ruin it by trying to go in for a hug. I had to take it slow. He was a lot like a wounded animal. I had to approach slowly and gain his trust before I tried to touch him.
After fishing, I ran through the drive-thru of a Jack in the Box and picked us up some food since we weren’t going to be having fish for lunch. I didn’t mind a bit. The fishing trip had been far more successful in other ways.