Still Fine at Forty

by Madison, Dakota

  “Please, let me explain,” he started and I sensed the urgency in his voice.

  “Did you go to high school in Tempe?” I asked.

  He looked like he wanted to speak but he just nodded.

  “I thought your name was Cody Miller,” I said more angrily than I wanted.

  “It is,” he said. “Cody is my middle name. It’s what everyone calls me now,” he said. “And I took the name Miller when Jim and Lucia adopted me when I was 16.”

  Everything came crashing down around me as the pieces of the puzzle all fell into place. I now understood why he looked so familiar when we first met. Why I felt like we knew each other in a previous life. Why he felt so familiar to me.

  When I looked into his eyes, I saw Cheyenne. But why hadn’t I recognized those eyes before now? Had I not wanted to?

  He grabbed my hands and pulled them up to his chest. “Please, give me a chance to explain,” he pleaded.

  “When did you know?” I asked fiercely.

  The look on his face told me everything I needed to know.

  “Tell me,” I insisted. I wanted him to admit his deception.

  “I didn’t want you to think any less of me. It was fifteen years ago. I was barely even a teenager, fourteen years old. I’ve changed a lot since then.”

  I ripped my hands from his.

  “How could you keep that from me? Is this some kind of joke? Some kind of revenge thing? Completely fuck, in every way, the teacher who got you expelled from school?”

  “No, you don’t understand. I never felt that way about you. I was a very angry kid but I was never angry at you. I could never be. Can’t you see you saved me? That your love saved me then and is still saving me now?”

  I shook my head. I was beyond angry. Beyond hurt. I felt lied to and violated, even more than I had when Rob cheated on me.

  “I need to go,” I said.

  He stood in front of me and blocked my way out the door. “Don’t go,” he said. “I don’t want you to leave angry.” When I looked into his eyes, my heart nearly melted. I saw the eyes of that young boy sitting in my classroom all those years ago. I saw the years of pain he had endured.

  “Please don’t go,” he said as he bent down and softly kissed my lips.

  I melted into his kiss and I was with Cody again, the man who made me feel all the things I longed to feel. But it was only a moment of passion before I regained my sanity.

  “I can’t do this,” I said. “Now that I now you’re Cheyenne, you’ve made it impossible.”

  “I’m not that person anymore,” he said. “It’s taken a lot of work, but I’ve changed. I know you can see that. I’m Cody. The man you love.”

  I was extremely confused. I needed some time to think. To sort everything out. I needed to get out of that house. I needed to escape. I wanted to leave everything about that horrible day fifteen years ago buried deep in the past.

  “I’ve got to go,” I said freeing myself from his embrace and heading for the door.

  When I glanced back at Cody, I still saw that scared teenager who sat in my classroom fifteen years ago. I grabbed my clothes and purse from the counter and hurried out the door.

  It wasn’t until I was sitting in my car that I realized I was only wearing Cody’s shirt and nothing else. I was so distraught, I didn’t realize I wasn’t wearing pants. I quickly slipped them on as I tried to contain my sobs of despair.

  Cody didn’t try to stop me as I drove away from his house. The two-hour drive back to Phoenix was the longest and most painful two hours of my life. I felt like someone had ripped my heart right out of my body. I felt like I could throw up at any minute. The rush of emotions from such tremendous pleasure and high hopes for the future to such crushing despair within such a short period of time had completely frayed every nerve in my body.

  The constant stream of tears that filled my eyes made it difficult for me to see where I was driving. If wasn’t so intent on getting away from Sedona, away from Cody, or Cheyenne, or whatever the hell his name really was, I would have probably pulled off the road.

  ***

  When I got back to Phoenix, I immediately went to Mel’s house. I needed someone to talk to. I needed my best friend.

  I parked my car in her driveway and ran to her door. Between heavy sobs, I pounded on her front door.

  When Mel opened the door, she took one look at my face and threw her arms around me. As she pulled me into her house, she didn’t let go of her tight grip on me. I was glad she held me so tightly because I felt like I could pass out.

  Marvin was standing in the foyer with a look of deep concern in his eyes. Mel whispered something into his ear and he excused himself and headed into the study. Mel guided me into her living room and we both sat on her overstuffed couch. For once, I was glad Mel had ridiculously luxurious furniture. It felt good to sink down into its warmth and comfort.

  After I had a few moments to catch my breath, Mel turned to me and said, “Well, you look like shit.”

  That was the Mel I adored. She always went straight to the heart of the matter. “That’s pretty much how I feel right now,” I said.

  My cell phone began to ring in my purse. No doubt it was Cody.

  “You’re not going to answer that?” Mel asked raising an eyebrow.

  I shook my head. The cell phone continued to ring. I reached into my purse and turned it off. The only other person who ever called me was sitting in the room with me.

  Mel waited patiently while I composed myself. Then I said, “Do you remember a kid I told you about fifteen years ago? His name was Cheyenne Robison. He was a real trouble maker. He made Freshman English class a living hell on a daily basis.”

  I could see her wheels were spinning but she didn’t have it. “I can barely remember what happened fifteen minutes ago. You expect me to remember a story from fifteen years ago? A story I probably only half paid attention to anyway,” she said. I couldn’t help but smile at her audacious honesty.

  “Please full-listen this time; it’s important.” I continued, “I tried to help this obviously troubled kid by encouraging him to write his feelings down. Keep a journal. Write poetry. He was getting pretty good and I thought I had made some real progress with him. He revealed a lot to me in his writing. He had a terrible home life. His father abandoned the family, was in and out of prison then finally murdered in an act of gang violence. His mother was a drug addict. She went to prison for a while for dealing drugs. Cheyenne was tossed from one relative to another, all fairly dysfunctional, until he finally ended up living back with his abusive mother again. That’s when I met him. I could understand why he felt so much rage inside but he also scared me. He was like a time bomb waiting to go off and he eventually did.”

  I could tell Mel was full-listening this time. “What happened?” she asked.

  “It was almost the end of the school year and Cheyenne had really opened up to me. He had been keeping a journal for months and had filled up an entire notebook with poems. I asked him to stay after class so I could talk to him. That was my first mistake. Knowing his background, I probably never should have risked being alone with him. But I was still a young teacher with a year of experience under my belt.”

  Mel’s eyes grew wide with anticipation. “Don’t stop now,” she said.

  “Cheyenne plopped himself into a chair and I sat down in a chair next to him. I handed him back his journals and all of the poems he had given me to read. He looked like such a scared kid.

  First, I thanked him for his willingness to share so much of his life with me. I told him that it must have been hard for him. He nodded. Then I told him how beautiful I thought his poetry was. I encouraged him to keep writing. I told him he had some real talent that needed to be nurtured. He beamed. I’d never seem him look so happy. He was always such a sullen kid, who exuded so much anger, but at that moment, he just lit up the room.

  Then, before I knew what was happening, he leaned over and tried to kiss me. Of course, I immed
iately backed away. I realized he was confused. He was just a kid. He had mistaken my attention for something else. I told him I was sorry. I liked him as a student but not in any other way. As I tried to explain that it wasn’t appropriate for him to kiss me, I could sense the anger building in his body. At some point, it seemed that he couldn’t even hear me anymore. He became absolutely and completely enraged. He jumped from his chair, grabbed his seat from the floor and threw it out the window. I was terrified. I didn’t think he’d intentionally hurt me, but he seemed out of his mind with anger. I didn’t know what he was capable of. He continued grabbing chairs and tossing them around the room. He threw a second chair out the window.

  I finally made it over to the intercom and asked for help. I gave the emergency code so the woman at the front office would phone the police.”

  I could feel teardrops welling up in the corners of my eyes.

  “I didn’t want him to get arrested, but I didn’t know what else to do. He had completely and totally lost it. And I felt like it was all my fault. I ran through every interaction the two of us had over the course of the school year trying to figure out if I had ever done anything inappropriate, anything that would give him the wrong idea, but I didn’t think I did. I thought I was being his teacher and helping him. I couldn’t have been more wrong.”

  Now I could feel the tears streaming down my face, but I continued. I needed to get it all out there.

  “By the time the police arrived, my classroom was completely trashed. Of course, Cheyenne was arrested. I’ll never forget the look on his face as the police pulled him out of the room. When he turned back to look at me, he had the most pained expression I had ever seen on another human being. He looked like a puppy, who had just gotten all of the life beaten out of him by a bad owner. It was at that moment, I realized how much I had hurt him. Not just the fact that he was expelled and had to spend the rest of his high school career at an alternative school. I had broken his precious young heart.”

  I started to sob.

  Mel grabbed a tissue box from the lamp table and handed it to me. I took one from the box and dabbed my eyes with it.

  “Did you get in trouble?” she asked.

  “No. Cheyenne told the police that I was going to fail him in class. He said that’s why he wanted to talk to me and that’s why he flipped out. He protected me, which made me feel even worse. I never told anyone what really happened. Not even Rob. I was ashamed and I didn’t want to lose my job. Rob and I were dependent on my income. I still feel guilty about it.”

  “I wasn’t your fault,” she said and gave me a quick hug.

  “I know that rationally,” I said pulling away. “I always wondered if there was something I could have done differently. Something that would have changed the outcome of that day. I also changed as a teacher. I became more guarded. I didn’t ever get that close to a student again.”

  “I’m confused,” she said. “Why are you getting so emotional about something that happened so long ago?”

  I didn’t know how else to tell her, so I just came right out with it. “I found out today that Cody’s actual first name is Cheyenne.”

  Mel’s eyes widened. “What are you saying?”

  I think she knew exactly what I was saying but I spelled it out for her. “Cody is all grown up now and goes by his middle name but fifteen years ago he was that freshman boy in my English class named Cheyenne Robison.”

  “Holy shit,” she said. Then repeated it for emphasis. “You never do anything the easy way, do you, Jen?”

  I shook my head.

  “Holy shit,” she said again.

  “I know,” I said.

  “What are you going to do?” She seemed truly concerned.

  “I have no idea,” I admitted.

  “How did you find out?” she asked.

  “That’s the thing I’m so hurt and angry about. I found out. He didn’t have the nerve to tell me.”

  Mel gave me one of her famous are-you-insane looks. “Now hold up,” she said. “Can you blame the guy for not telling you? That’s some serious shit.”

  “How could he keep something like that from me? It’s an important piece of information.”

  “Please hear me out without getting all emotional,” she said, obviously preparing me for something that was going to make me very emotional.

  “Considering the state I’m in, I’m not going to make any promises that I can’t keep, especially when it comes to getting emotional.”

  She continued anyway. “Based on what you told me about Cheyenne, he was obviously in love with you.” I tried to protest but she held a hand up. “He was in love with you as a teenager would be in love with his teacher. You were young enough at the time for him to majorly crush on you, and you were old enough to be a bit of a mother-figure as well.”

  “You are not making me feel any better about sleeping with him,” I said.

  She held up her hand again. “I’m not finished. He probably had a lot of confusing feelings about you. You may have been one of the only adults who every truly cared about him. I can understand why he fell for you. Even though it wasn’t right. Look at it from his perspective.”

  “Okay, I can understand from the fourteen-year-old boy’s perspective, but what about the twenty-nine-year old man, who lied to me?”

  “Did he ever actually lie to you?”

  “It was a lie of omission,” I said. “It’s the same thing.”

  “When he saw you again, he obviously still had feelings for you—very strong feelings, I might add. He obviously wanted to be with you. And he could, now that he was an adult. What do you think would have happened to your blossoming relationship if he would have said, ‘Oh, and by the way, remember that kid who went crazy and destroyed your classroom? That was me’.”

  She had a point, but it still didn’t excuse him from not telling me.

  “And exactly how did you find out his real name?”

  “I showed up at his house, where he has all of his artwork, and I saw it on the artist’s nameplate.”

  She stared at me and blinked but no words came out. Finally, she sighed. “Don’t you get it? He couldn’t bring himself to tell you because he didn’t want to lose you, but he knew you had to find out at some point. Letting you see the nameplate and figure it out was his way of telling you without having to say it.”

  It made sense. But I was still mad he hadn’t told me sooner. Mel was right, though. Would I be in love with him if he had revealed the information sooner? I probably wouldn’t have had a chance to.

  “I’m just not sure if I can ever see him just as Cody and not see Cheyenne, too.”

  “Are you still the person you were at fourteen?” she asked.

  “God, no,” I said.

  “But doesn’t that girl still live somewhere inside you?”

  I thought about it for a moment. “I suppose so.”

  “He’s Cody. The gorgeous hunk you’ve fallen head over heels for, but somewhere deep inside, he’s still that scared and angry kid. Do you really want to turn your back on either of them?”

  “And why are you suddenly so pro-Cody?” I asked. She hadn’t been the most enthusiastic supporter of our relationship previously.

  “There’s something incredibly romantic about him holding a candle for you all these years,” she said. I wasn’t sure if it was romantic or dysfunctional. “So, what are you going to do?”

  I shrugged my shoulders. I was so confused, I didn’t know what to do. I just needed some time to think.

  Twelve

  By the time I got back to my house, I was exhausted. I didn’t think there was a teardrop left in me to shed. I grabbed my cell phone from my purse. Twelve missed calls. Three messages. All from Cody. I was torn between erasing the messages without listening to them or listening to them and risk becoming emotional all over again.

  I played the first message. “It’s me. Cody. Please call me back. I need to hear your voice.”

  I played
the second message. “It’s Cody again. I’m so sorry. I never meant for this to happen. I love you.”

  I played the third message. “I need to see you. I need to touch you. I need to hear your voice…”

  The third message sent shivers down my spine. The emptiness and hollowness in his voice pulled at my heartstrings. It was the same feeling I had when Cheyenne looked back at me as he was being pulled from my classroom. Like I had shattered his heart into a million pieces. I broke down into uncontrollable sobs again.

  As the night fell, my sobbing had finally receded and I could breathe without a catch in my throat. I still had no idea what I was going to do. Or what I wanted to do. I so exhausted but I wasn’t sure I could sleep. I lay in my bed and stared at the ceiling.

  The bed where I had felt so much joy with Cody just weeks earlier now felt cold and empty. The pain I had felt after Rob left me was nothing compared to the intensity of heartbreak I felt over Cody. It didn’t make any sense. I was married to Rob for almost twenty years. I had only been with Cody a few months, but the connection we shared was so intense and enduring it defied explanation. I couldn’t imagine a life without him.

  I could feel my body finally begin to relax and I welcomed the idea of sleep and a temporary relief from the overwhelming pain I felt. Just as my eyes closed, there was a pounding on the door.

  When I looked out the peephole, I saw a very anxious Cody standing outside.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked loudly through the door.

  “Please, let me in,” he said sounding desperate. “I need to see you. I need to talk to you.”

  I hesitated for a moment. I knew if I let him in, that would be it. I would not be able to resist him and my decision would be made.

  He knocked more softly. “I’m not leaving until I see you,” he said. “I’ll wait out here all night if I have to.”

  When I looked out the peephole again, I could see the resolution in his eyes. He wasn’t going anywhere until I opened the door.

  I sighed, tried to compose myself, then unlocked the door.