The Daddy Box Set

by Claire Adams

  “Don’t worry about it. It’s only us; we can be normal humans. It’s when the students come in that become—perfectly professional,” illustrating the point by changing my posture and voice dramatically as I spoke.

  The sound of her laugh floated over me. “Good. Anyway, she was fine. How about you? Did you get the lesson plans finished?”

  I nodded. “Yep, today we are going to delve into the topic of reef bleaching.”

  She shook her head. “It’s so sad. I hate that we are losing so much when it comes to our oceans. I wish people would open their eyes and see what we’re doing to our world. I think with the ocean especially; it’s out of sight, out of mind for most people.”

  “Yes!” I practically shouted. It was a hot button topic for me. Few people could relate to my passion for saving the reefs.

  “I’m excited about this class. I can already tell it’s going to be a good one. Since it’s Monday and I have no papers to grade, I can eavesdrop on your lecture,” she said with enthusiasm.

  A pang of anxiety twisted in my stomach, and I realized I was a little nervous to learn she would be listening in. Though she was always there in class, it was different to know she would be intentionally listening in, and it made me a little apprehensive.

  Students started to filter in, bringing our conversation to a halt. We both resumed our distant and professional demeanor towards one another. She sat quietly at her desk, making notes as she flipped through the lesson plan I had given her.

  Turning my attention to the class, I started the lecture. At first, the students looked like they would protest and reject the topic of warm water slowly killing off the beautiful coral that lined the reefs.

  “Are you one of those guys?” a student asked.

  I raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean by ‘one of those guys?’ Before I answer, you’ll have to enlighten me.”

  The entire class fell silent. No one was taking notes or staring at their laptops now. All eyes were on me. I glanced back, and Tessa was looking at me as well. She gave a very slight nod of her head, encouraging me. Her support gave me the courage I needed to defend a topic that was near and dear to my heart.

  The student guffawed. “Like a tree-hugger or some shit like that.”

  I smiled. It wasn’t a friendly smile. It was the kind of smile one delivered seconds before a knock-out punch.

  “Yes, I am. I can’t say I’ve ever actually hugged a tree, but if I could, I would hug the reefs I am so fond of. I don’t have to convince you or anyone else. The facts speak clearly for themselves,” I said, leveling my gaze at the defiant student.

  The young guy shrugged his shoulders, doing his best to look cool in front of the others. “Whatever, man. My dad says all that global warming crap is a bunch of bullshit.”

  I nodded, not willing to argue with the kid. “Why are you in this class?”

  Another casual shrug. “It was open, and I needed to fill my schedule.”

  That’s what I had suspected of about half of these students. They weren’t here to actually learn. It pissed me off. It was a waste of my time and theirs. I made my way towards the student, stopped in front of his desk and looked at him.

  The kid squirmed in his chair.

  “I think you still have time to drop the class. Maybe you can take up basket weaving or something more suitable to your interests. What are your interests, mister...?” I left the question open-ended, wanting to know the student’s name.

  He didn’t give it.

  “Uh, my interest is to play football. To do that, I have to go to class, so here I am.” He smirked.

  “Lucky us. I imagine we will be fortunate enough to be blessed with your wisdom on all topics relating to the environment,” I said, spinning on my heel and heading towards the front of the class to resume my lecture.

  My eyes met Tessa’s. She was fighting back a grin. I gave her a quick wink, shook off the anger Mr. Football had incited, and returned to the topic at hand. The majority of the students appeared interested and asked relevant questions. I was happy to educate at least a handful of people about the destruction of the coral in their backyards. If even one of the students got it, my job was done. It was about spreading knowledge. It was up to them what they did with it.

  After class was over, Tessa approached me. “That was awesome. I loved every minute of it.”

  “I don’t think the rest of the students share your enthusiasm,” I replied.

  “Who cares? There are always a few bad apples. Ignore the ones who are only here to suck oxygen. I saw quite a few of them really getting it. I could see the little light bulbs pop up above their heads. You really had their interest,” she told me with a sincerity I believed.

  “Thanks, I appreciate it. It’s been a long time. These times make me remember why I loved teaching so much. It’s a natural high when you see students getting it. I wish it had been more, but I’ll take what I can get.”

  “You did fine, keep it up. I’m going to head out. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  She reached out and put a hand on my shoulder. It was a gesture meant to encourage and give strength. It was nothing special and I had felt many hands on my shoulders from friends and complete strangers, but none of them caused the same response. Her hand was gentle and nothing more than a feather touch, but it stirred something within. It was as if she passed me a magic elixir of strength through that gentle touch. I knew it would carry me throughout the day.

  She gave me an odd look before turning and walking out the door. I sat down at the desk and reviewed some of the notes she had made. I was pleasantly surprised to see she had jotted down some references to help sell my theory about the reef bleaching. She was passionate about the topic as well, it seemed.

  The hour passed too quickly, and before I knew it, the next class was filing in. Once again, I dove into the lecture, using the notes Tessa had made to help drive home the point.

  A sound at the door drew my attention. I looked up to see the dean standing in the doorway. The dowdy woman had been less than pleasant in our earlier conversations, and I didn’t expect that to change.

  “Good afternoon, Dean Scribbs. Something I can help you with?” I asked, in my most congenial tone.

  She looked around the empty classroom and back at me. “I’m hearing good things so far,” she said, in a tone that offered no hint of what she was feeling.

  I smiled and nodded. “Well it is only the second week, after all,” I joked.

  She stared at me in return. No emotion, not even a blink.

  The feeling of being under a microscope was very real, and seconds before I blurted out something stupid, I was saved. Tessa came in behind the dean. Her energy was a ray of light in what had become a very dark room.

  “Hi, Dean Scribbs,” she said, flashing her smile. “Are you here to congratulate Professor Dunlap on an awesome first week?” she said, with plenty of enthusiasm.

  The dean looked at her, questioning her without the use of words. It was intimidating. This was why she was the dean, I mused.

  Tessa was only slightly unnerved under the scrutiny. “You should have been here for today’s lecture. The students loved it. He has a way that the students can relate to.” She looked at me, smiled, and turned back to the dean who seemed to be softening ever so slightly. “I wish he had been my professor freshman year.”

  She went on to gush about the lectures that were planned and the field work that would be taking place over the next few weeks.

  “Good,” the dean said. “I look forward to hearing more good things.”

  She turned and walked out the door without another word.

  I stood there, not sure what had just happened, but grateful that Tessa had shown up when she did. I wasn’t used to defending my teaching. It had never been an issue at my last job.

  Frozen in the moment, I didn’t know what to say or do. Only that acting on the urge I currently felt—to kiss her and spin her around while thanking her—would be inappropria
te, so I did the next best thing. I grabbed my bag and left the room. There was no stopping me as I pushed my way down the busy hallway and out the door to the refuge of my tiny car.

  Never had I wanted to kiss someone as badly as I wanted to kiss her. It scared me. I shouldn’t be thinking that way about another woman, let alone a student. In the back of my mind, Jake was lecturing me.

  “It’s time to move on, Ian,” Jake had said on more than one occasion. “It’s been long enough.”

  I wasn’t sure I would ever be ready to be with another woman. It terrified me for more reasons than I cared to admit.

  Chapter Ten

  Tessa

  Refusing to get up, I pulled the covers up around me and turned over. Yes, there were only thirty minutes before I was due in Ian’s class, but I didn’t want to go. I felt physically unable to get up and go about my daily life. There was a huge weight holding me down, and I didn’t know how to move it. I wasn’t even sure I wanted to. Why couldn’t I stay right where I was?

  “Tessa, come on, hon, you have to get up,” Maria called through the closed door. The words were said in a gentle tone, but I knew my roommate would not hesitate to drag my ass out of bed if she had to.

  I didn’t answer, hoping Maria would go away.

  As expected, Maria pushed the door open. “You should have taken the day off. You still can, but you have to call and let your sexy professor know you’re not coming in. Don’t pull the no-call, no-show crap.”

  Maria threw open the light-blocking curtains and opened the blinds. “Damn, girl. I’m going to have to worry about you sucking on my neck when I’m sleeping. You keep it way too dark in here,” she complained. “No wonder you can’t wake up.”

  I pouted. I liked the dark. After Talia died, I had shut out the world for weeks. The heavy curtains had turned my room into a cave, but I liked the feeling of isolation and security. No one could see me grieve.

  I moaned, “I have to.”

  “You have to what?” Maria asked.

  “Go. I have to go to class. I need that credit. Skipping isn’t an option.”

  Maria sighed. “Then you need to get up. If you don’t get moving, you’re going to be late. You’ve already done that, and it didn’t go over so well, remember?”

  “I know. I have to go,” I repeated, but still didn’t get out of bed. My mind and body were not on the same page.

  “How about you make yourself a deal?” Maria started. “Do his two classes and then take the rest of the day off. Don’t push yourself so hard. This first birthday without her is going to be a rough one.”

  Tears welled in my eyes. The lump in my throat grew to epic proportions, making it impossible for me to speak. Why I thought I could get through this day was anyone’s guess. Talia would have been twenty-two today. One month of every year, we were the same age. When we were little, we pretended to be twins the entire month. We looked so much alike, everyone believed us. Now my twin was gone, and I had to face the birthday alone.

  “I’ll go,” I breathed, once the lump diminished and allowed me to speak again. “I’m not showering though,” I said, defiantly.

  Maria chuckled. “Maybe a little deodorant, a quick toothbrush in the mouth, and a spritz of that fruity body spray you wear would be a good idea.”

  I looked at her, wanting to laugh, but not finding the energy. “Fine.”

  Throwing off the covers, I went about making myself somewhat presentable. I pulled my hair into a messy bun that most girls could pull off and look sexy, but I managed to look like I’d been caught in a hurricane. My leggings and long button-down plaid shirt were good enough. Today, I didn’t care what I looked like or what others thought of my disheveled state. They could all kiss my ass.

  I glanced in the rearview mirror of my car, checking to see how bad the situation was. It was as bad as I expected. My eyes were puffy and my face splotchy from crying most of the night and morning. Despite my earlier conviction that I didn’t care what I looked like, I did. I reached into my purse and dotted on some concealer before smoothing over a powder finish. It was a slight improvement.

  The class was full when I shuffled in the door. I glanced at Ian, expecting a smile, but got nothing. He barely even looked at me. Taking my seat in the corner, I leaned back in the chair, arms crossed over my chest. I was in a shit mood, and his attitude wasn’t helping.

  “Good morning,” he started the class in his typical fashion.

  Again, I waited for him to look at me and at least acknowledge my appearance. He didn’t. The second class started without him so much as saying a single word to me. It was as if I wasn’t even there. Class stretched on and he never once looked my way. I didn’t care. Fuck him. Today was not a day I was going to worry about him being a surly asshole.

  I knew my resting bitch face was in place when students who would normally greet me took one look at me and ran the opposite direction. When Ian finally made eye contact with me, I glared back.

  I stood and began packing the few papers I’d pulled out. I could feel him behind me and was going to ignore him. I figured I’d give him the same cold shoulder he’d been throwing at me all morning, but as it turned out, I couldn’t. I apparently needed someone to be a bitch at. Lucky him.

  “What?” I said, spinning around and raising my chin in the air.

  He took a step back. “Are you okay?” he asked, holding up a hand to protect himself as if I had just shot fire out of my nose.

  I rolled my eyes, completely prepared to tell him to jump off a bridge, but something clicked when I looked into his eyes and saw the real concern. It was too much, and before I knew it, I broke down. Not a silent tear or two, full on bawling, and I couldn’t stop.

  “I’m sorry.” I waved a hand in front of my face, trying to wave away the tears. I knew I was a mess but was helpless to do anything about it. Instead of running away, he stayed put.

  He put a hand on my shoulder, offering me comfort, which only caused a million more tears and another round of choking sobs.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked, in a low, gentle voice.

  I looked at him through watery eyes. “It’s T-Talia’s b-birthday,” I stammered. “It’s the first birthday without her. I didn’t know it would be this h-hard,” I choked out, as another round of uncontrollable sobs took over.

  “I’m sorry, Tessa. There are going to be a lot of firsts, and they are really rough. I wish I could take away the pain, I truly do. I don’t have any shiny words of wisdom, and the last thing you want to hear are a bunch of empty platitudes. Just let it out. That’s all I can tell you,” he said, awkwardly patting my shoulder from a safe distance.

  I had plopped back down in my seat, unable to continue standing as the sobs racked my body. Once I felt completely wrung out, I looked up at him, embarrassed. His hand was still on my shoulder, and he looked uncomfortable, making me feel like a complete idiot.

  “Hold on,” he said, leaving my side. I covered my face with my hands, praying the whole thing had been a nightmare. This was worse than showing up to class naked.

  He returned, holding a box of tissues out to me. I took several and did my best to clean up my face, praying there wasn’t any snot. I was so glad I hadn’t bothered with eye makeup. That would have been the icing on the cake.

  He stood close. “I know it’s hard, Tessa. Have you been to any grief counseling at all?” he asked, putting his hand on my back this time.

  I shook my head no.

  “Support groups or something like that?”

  Another shake of my head.

  “You need to talk to someone. This stuff will eat you alive. It doesn’t make you weak,” he said, squatting down to look at me eye-to-eye. “I don’t think I’m weak and I spent plenty of time talking with a therapist.”

  I looked at him. “Your situation is different. Your loss is far greater than mine. I’m glad you had someone. I’ll be okay. Most of the time I am, this one kind of snuck up on me, I guess.”

>   He smiled. “Yes, you will be okay, but wouldn’t it be nice if you could tell someone what you’re feeling before you have these breakdowns? I can tell you from experience there are plenty of sneak attacks like this still to come.”

  I nodded but wasn’t ready to commit to any kind of counseling. “Oh joy. I can’t wait to do this all over again.”

  “I’m sorry. I truly am, but it does get better,” he promised.

  Suddenly, I felt totally ridiculous. I was sitting in a classroom bawling my head off with my professor wiping my tears. I literally had a complete snot-sling breakdown in front of him. How embarrassing is that? These things should be done in private. My mother would freak if she knew. She was the consummate southern woman who followed the old rules of etiquette. One did not blubber in public; it simply wasn’t done. Even Talia’s funeral had been a very somber, yet dry affair, with everyone being so polite as to cry in the bathroom or in their cars.

  “I should go. Thank you, for listening and letting me make a fool of myself,” I said, standing abruptly, and nearly knocking him on his butt.

  As I finished shoving papers into my backpack, I looked at him one last time. “Seriously, thank you, and I’m really sorry I dumped all of this on you. I’m sure you have enough on your plate without that. I promise I am not normally like this.”

  I rushed out the door without giving him a chance to say another word. The way he had been looking at me made me want to cry all over again. This morning he had been a complete dick. He had been aloof and ignored me, much like he had those first couple of days of class last week. Now, he was the perfect gentleman, willing to give me a shoulder to lean on.

  His moods were too much for me to deal with. The last thing I needed was a basket case in my life; I already had the market cornered there. There wasn’t room enough for both of us. Walking to my car, I pulled out my phone.

  Maria had texted, asking how I was doing.

  I called her back. “I’m fine. I just made a complete fool of myself in front of the good professor, but I’m fine now and going home.”