I’m sure he was more observant than I had given him credit for at the time. That was precisely what I was counting on now.
DINNER FOR TWO
Six o’clock found me knocking on the office door of Professor Sherman Haynesworth. He pulled open the door almost before I finished knocking.
“Timely as always, my dear,” he said with a smile.
“It’s good to see you.” I reached in to embrace him. It felt good to be wrapped in his teddy bear hug. I wanted to cry, but I had promised myself I would hold it together until we at least finished our walk across campus. We let go and briefly looked at each other, reading the knowledge in each other’s eyes that this would be a raw evening.
“Let me grab my briefcase and we’ll be on our way.” With an agile motion that belied his age, he picked up the handle of his briefcase with his left hand while at the same time, always the gentleman, offering me his right arm. I gladly took it.
We were quiet as we made our way out of his building and into the warm evening. “Do you remember your first visit to this campus?” he finally asked.
Surprised by his direction, I turned to look at him. “Why, yes, I do.”
“I remember it too.”
“What?”
“Yes, you don’t remember me, but I remember you. I never reminded you before. I suppose I didn’t want to embarrass you, but you visited the computer science department in the spring of your senior year of high school, I believe.”
I nodded assent.
“I happened to be in the department office when the receptionist needed a bathroom break. I willingly agreed to sit in her chair for a few minutes to monitor the phones. It was at that moment that you entered the office. You were with your mother and father, as I recall. Is that correct?”
“Yes,” I responded, completely taken off guard.
“You impressed me from that very moment. Outwardly, you held back, but just under the surface I could tell you knew who you were and where you were going, and at such a young age. That’s a rare thing, young lady. You had a plan of what classes you wanted to visit, and you had an extensive list of questions to be answered. But my high opinion of you only started there. What really struck me was how you treated me. You should have been surprised to find an elderly gentleman sitting at that front desk, but you acted as if it was the most natural thing in the world. I could tell by your questions that you assumed I was indeed the receptionist.”
I started to object, but he held up his hand and continued. “What I remember about you was that even though you thought I was the receptionist, you treated me with respect and deference. I’ll never forget that.”
I stopped walking and stood with an open mouth. I remembered visiting the department office, but I honestly recalled no faces.
“See, just by the fact that you can’t place me there in that office chair says that you didn’t single me out and judge me for being an old man in an entry level position.”
I was completely befuddled. This man was reaching into my soul. He seemed to know me more than I ever thought possible, and not only that, he thought I was a worthwhile person. I believed myself to be that, but the last few days had made me doubt everything I thought I knew. His kind words were making it hard to keep my promise to hold back the tears.
Professor Haynesworth continued, “When you were sitting in my class at the start of the semester, I was tickled and intrigued. Would my assessment of you bear out? I must admit I tested you a little to see if you remembered me, but you did not. Having already met you, I rightly ‘guessed’ that you were not from the Midwest, do you recall?”
“Yes, I do. I remember everything about that day. Well, everything except your actual lecture. Sorry about that.”
“No, no need. You were smitten, I could tell,” and he added in a conspiratorial whisper, “I don’t blame you a bit. I must add though, that you were not who I had pegged you to be.”
He watched as my face fell.
“You were much better,” he said with a chuckle.
I elbowed him and laughed too. It felt good to laugh. Trust my dear professor to lighten my mood. We finished our walk reminiscing about campus life.
. . .
Professor Haynesworth lived in a house right next to campus. Looking like it had been plucked from an English village, the house was a Tudor style cottage, complete with ivy vines growing up the sides. I think it had been there longer than Haynesworth had been alive, but I don’t know who would have built it other than the Professor. It fit him and few others. Even the rest of the homes in the neighborhood were entirely different. His house was completely out of place, like a koala at a state fair, but also like the koala, it was so charming that no one cared.
We entered the side door and were greeted by the sound of pots and pans in the kitchen accompanied by an enticing aroma. “Alaina, we’re here. What smells so delightful?”
From the kitchen I heard the return, “That’s what you always say. It’s just food. Now don’t track any dirt into my kitchen. This may be your house, but the kitchen is mine.”
He dutifully checked his shoes for dirt, as did I. I didn’t want to cross Alaina, much as I adored her. We looked at each other and giggled like school kids caught playing in the mud.
“I’ve got Brea with me. Did you remember?” he called out, as we settled our various bags on the bench by the door.
“Of course I remembered. What do ya’ take me for? I’m not the absent-minded professor in the house.”
Duly chastised, we both made our way to the kitchen. The wonderful smell was almost overwhelming. Alaina was in the middle of cooking up enough food to feed a family reunion, but knowing Alaina I would be taking a lot of it home with me at the end of the evening. She had her graying hair braided and twirled around her head as if she had once been a playful girl but was now a woman, tied up tight. I knew that was an illusion. She only appeared wound up and stern; inside she had a heart as big and warm as the sun.
It wasn’t long before we sat down at his dining room table to enjoy Alaina’s efforts. We invited her to sit down and eat with us, but she declined. A different time she might have joined us, but she had enough sense to know that we needed to talk, and talk without restraint.
Dinner lived up to its aroma, but it didn’t stop us from talking. There was much to discuss, and we were both eager to begin.
All it took to get me started was a searching look from Professor Haynesworth. His look was honest, if a look can be that, and concerned. I knew I would tell him everything, and I did. I told him every detail I could think of, many more certainly than I had even shared with my parents. I felt unburdened sharing it with him, as if he were my confessor and the failings and faults all mine.
When I was done with all that I knew of Paul and his behavior of late, as much as I could detect of it, and all my efforts to learn more, he simply nodded. It was a nod of understanding and resignation. It wasn’t hard to read the sadness that spread across his face.
“Brea, I can only express my extreme sorrow, but that’s not why you’re here. You have shoulders to cry on, if I’m not mistaken. What you need from me is different.
“You, child, are an open book to me. I can imagine if I had ever married and had a daughter, she would be much like you. You and I are spitting images of each other. I’m sorry if my looks make that an unfair comparison for you,” he said with a grin. Serious once again, he continued, “But we think alike and act accordingly. It is not in our nature to lie. We might tell the ‘kind’ lie, the one meant to spare another’s feelings, but out and out lie? No, we just couldn’t do it, and this is good. However, it also means we can’t conceive of someone choosing to act differently than that. We
just can’t understand that other people can lie and still live with themselves.”
I let the reality of that sink in. I suppose that was part of what was bothering me about Paul. I couldn’t understand the deceit. It made no sense to me, and I couldn’t fathom that the husband I had known and loved had chosen to lie to me.
He continued, “Paul was always an enigma. I liked him right from the start. Everyone liked Paul; you couldn’t help but like him. Nevertheless, he only let me see what he wanted me to see. I believe that’s how he was with everyone. But even with that, I did learn a few things about him. When he fell in love with you, he let his guard down just a little and I learned a bit about him. I gather that’s why you’re here. To learn more about the man you married, am I right?”
“Right, as usual.” I turned my chair to face him fully. “I guess I’m ready, or as ready as I’ll ever be. What do you know that I don’t?”
“Well, first off, it’s not as bad as you’re expecting. I would have warned you off if I had thought that. Thinking about it now, though, I think there were things in his character that might give you some insights. They didn’t stand out at the time, but given what you just told me, they could be relevant.
“Even though Paul was my TA when you met him, that was the first time I worked with him. I had only known him before that semester as a student. He was very intelligent, but beyond that, I knew few facts of his life. Some of his character traits, however, could not be hidden. Paul, as you probably know, was always very determined. If he set his sights on something, he would go after it with everything he had and not back down. I believe that’s why he was able to land a prize like you.” He raised his eyebrows, asking for the verification that was actually rhetorical. “But I think there was more to it than that,” he added.
Puzzled, I asked, “What do you mean?”
“It’s actually the fact that you two got engaged that made me stop and think about my assessment of Paul. It didn’t dawn on me right away, but I started to form an idea, and then I checked it with what I saw and knew about Paul. He was all about the challenge. He only showed that fierce determination when he was trying to conquer a challenge.”
I paused to process that information. It certainly fit with what I knew, but it didn’t make me feel any better. Paul had admitted that his interest in me started because he couldn’t have me. I had always assumed that it continued because he got to know me. Was I simply the challenge at hand, the one to conquer? I hoped that wasn’t the case, but I couldn’t be sure, wasn’t sure of much anymore. If it was true that I was merely a trophy to be won, was there any emotion involved? I loved Paul fiercely, but what had I been to him? I thought I had known, but these last two days made me wonder. I finally dared to ask myself the question I feared most of all. Did Paul ever love me?
Even though I trusted Professor Haynesworth, I couldn’t bring myself to put voice to this fear. Somehow saying it would make it real, and I didn’t want him to start giving me that “nice” lie about Paul to make me feel better. I needed truth.
Surely going after what appeared difficult applied to other aspects of Paul’s life, and by extension, maybe not his love for me. “Do you have some other examples?”
Sensing my concern, he steered the conversation elsewhere. “For instance, Paul was always trying to win at something. The computer science department held a contest the year before you arrived. It was something about creating the best app, and the winner would get a chance to pitch it to several different companies – no guarantees about whether they would buy it, but at least they would give the winner a shot at it. Paul went after that with the fierce determination that I was talking about. For him, the challenge was not winning the contest; he just assumed he would win. The hard part, what he set his sights on, was selling his app to one of those companies. That’s what mattered to Paul. Of course he won. His self-confidence alone may have scared away the competition, who knows. But darn it if he didn’t sell that app. He presented to those companies, and he had a contract by the end of the day! As part of it, he finagled a second app sale that he promised to have within six months. Again he pulled it off.”
“I didn’t know that,” I said quietly. “What else did he do?” This was an insightful conversation.
“I don’t know any other specifics, but I got a sense that there were more of the same: contests, business ventures. It appeared that when he was after the chase, nothing would stop him. It’s as if he didn’t know how to quit, even if he wanted to. But once he achieved what he had set out to do, it was a different story. It seems he didn’t stick with any one type of thing too long, apparently dropping something when it was no longer difficult to achieve.”
Again, I wondered if I had become one of those things that was no longer a challenge. Was he off looking for the next best thing?
We both sat in silence. The gravity of our revelations to each other needed time to sink in. I could read the anguish in his eyes that I knew was reflected in my own. We both loved a man of such potential, and he had sold himself short, had fallen from the pedestal we had wished and fantasized that he was on. But worse than that, he was dead. He couldn’t redeem himself, couldn’t pick himself up and rise above any of these things. It was too late, everlastingly too late.
The tears I had held off finally came, silently but persistently, tracing lines down my face. I lifted my face to look into the eyes of this caring man, only to see the same tears falling from his eyes. It was raw and tender. I mourned for the professor and his loss as I had mourned for mine, as I continued to do so.
Only a few days before, although it seemed like years, I had been in deep mourning over the death of my young husband, thinking nothing could be worse. Did I regret learning what I had recently learned? Even though I didn’t have any definitive answers, I was forming a picture in my mind of a man I had hardly known. Would I undo what I had discovered if I could? I honestly didn’t know.
Haynesworth reached over to grab my hand and squeezed it gently, but then he tenderly turned my hand over to see my wedding ring. He let out a soft chuckle.
Surprised, I looked up. “What in the world are you laughing about?”
Seeing my stricken expression, he said, “Oh, Brea, I’m sorry. I’m not trying to make light of what’s happening in the least. It’s just that I know something about your wedding ring that you don’t.”
My confused look spurred him on. “Well, after you and Paul had your first date, Paul decided he was going to ask you to marry him.”
“Are you sure?” I didn’t know if he was kidding or not.
“I’m absolutely sure. You went home for Christmas the next day, and as soon as he had seen you off, he made a beeline for my house. We had lunch in this very room, although I don’t think he ate much. He was a nervous wreck.” The professor got a faraway look to his eye and his mouth turned up in a soft smile. “Paul wasn’t sure what you thought of him, but he told me that for the first time in his life he could picture being married, settling down with one woman. I’m sure you know what a womanizer he was. He wasn’t one to sleep around, but he was a constant flirt.
“Let me tell you, though, once he knew he had a chance with you, that side of him completely shut down. Feeling that way completely undid him. He even told me that he had always planned to stay single and never have a family. Families just weren’t for him. However, over that lunch he talked about you non-stop and living his life with you.
“I thought he was jumping the gun, but he didn’t hear a word I said. Well, I take that back. He did ask how fast he could go, and I told him he was going to have to sit back and let you dictate how fast things went. Otherwise, he might blow his chance before your budding romance had a chance to bloom.
“But even though he listened to that piece of advice, he was d
etermined that he would be prepared should the moment arise. The next day, he insisted I go ring shopping with him!” He stopped to laugh heartily at the memory. “Brea, can you imagine that? Paul, the formerly self-determined bachelor, and me, the old bachelor, wandering around the jewelry store trying to find the perfect ring for you? And all this because of one date and just the hope of more! We were both a little flustered, but Paul’s excitement was contagious. Everyone was congratulating the two of us. They all assumed I was his father and that he must be proposing at Christmas time. Neither of us had the heart to tell those well-wishers what a chance he was taking and that he had no idea when or if it might actually happen.”
I smiled despite myself at the image of the two of them in the jewelry store. “I never knew that,” I said softly. “That story is nice. I’m surprised I never heard it before.”
“I can explain that one,” the professor replied, looking chagrined. “I was so out of my element. I agreed to go with Paul, but only on the condition of anonymity. I made him promise to never tell a soul.”
“He must have been carrying that ring around with him for months,” I mused. “He gave it to me right after I told him I loved him for the first time. I think he said he’d been waiting for me to say that. Wow! I had no idea. That’s kind of sweet.”
“Yes it is,” he agreed.
It was a relief to learn something new about Paul that wasn’t disappointing.
“Hey, did I ever tell you about how I met Alaina?”
“No, but that’s got to be a good story.” As he started his tale of meeting Alaina when she was cooking on campus, young but with the sauciness she was known for, my thoughts drifted. It was nice for a change not to be talking about Paul.
The Apple of My Eye Page 10
