An Indian Affair

by Doreen Owens Malek

  “You’re not going to do that as long as you’re with me,” he answered readily, taking her arm. “Creeps lurk in these hallways, don’t you know that? I’ll see you to the door and that’s final.”

  She had only been seeking to shorten the agony, but went along without protest, her strength waning. When he bent to kiss her good night outside the apartment, she turned her head, unable to bear it.

  “One kiss,” he said huskily. “Don’t be mean, princess. I know I don’t deserve generosity, but give me something to remember.”

  When she closed her eyes to accept his mouth, a tear slipped from her lashes and onto her face. He kissed it first, and then her lips, so tenderly that it was like the first time.

  “Don’t cry,” he whispered. “I’m not worth it. Someday you’ll realize that this was all for the best. Goodbye, my princess.”

  He moved back from her, and when she opened her eyes again he was gone.

  Chapter 7

  A week went by, and the time of Cindy’s departure from Florida was approaching. Her work was almost done, and she had to get back to Pennsylvania to teach an undergraduate intercession course at the end of the month. In truth she was glad to be leaving; memories of Fox assaulted her everywhere, and it would be good to return to places where he had never been.

  She told Paula what had happened because Fox would have been conspicuous by his absence. To Cindy’s everlasting gratitude, and Paula’s credit, the latter kept her mouth shut.

  Cindy took advantage of a welcome distraction in the person of her thesis advisor, Richard Caldwell. He was in the area to do his own research and called Cindy, who had left Paula’s number at the department office. They arranged to get together for dinner; Richard was always full of campus gossip, and Cindy looked forward to a few hours away from her paper and thoughts of her abandoned relationship with Fox. She suggested the restaurant in Council Rock where she had gone with Paula on the day of her arrival. It was pleasant and not too expensive. As she dressed to meet Richard she wondered why she couldn’t have fallen in love with someone like him, staid and solid and responsible. But although she liked Richard, there was no magic with him and never had been. He was a friend, and that was all.

  When she entered the restaurant she saw that he was already seated. He stood and waved to her, and the hostess showed her to his table.

  “Well, hello,” he greeted her, pulling out her chair. “How’s life among the natives?”

  I could tell you a few things about the natives, Cindy thought. Aloud she said, “Fine. The work’s been going great and I’m almost finished. How about yours?”

  Richard needed no more encouragement to regale her with the details of his project, and as he talked Cindy studied his neat brown hair, his neat tortoiseshell glasses, and his neat button-down shirt. He looked the picture of exactly what he was: an amiable career academic whose intellectual curiosity was the ruling passion of his life. He was the polar opposite of Andrew Fox, and yet attractive in his own way. She knew several women at the university who were interested in more than his credentials.

  “So I should have the bibliography ready in about two weeks,” Richard was saying.

  “That’s wonderful,” Cindy responded. “It sounds like you haven’t been idle. So tell me, what’s been going on at Penn?”

  During drinks and dinner Richard went on about various people they both knew, in particular their department head, who had been giving him trouble. Campus politics was a labyrinth Cindy usually sought to avoid, but on this occasion she drew him out, eager to lose herself in the lives of others. They had just ordered dessert when she looked up to see Fox and a young woman being seated on the other side of the room.

  Richard’s voice seemed to be coming from a distance. Cindy masked her reaction by taking a long sip of water, and then said, “Richard, I think I’ve changed my mind. I’m kind of full and I’d rather not stay for dessert. Would you mind if we left now?”

  Richard, understandably confused, nevertheless agreed. He called the waitress back and rescinded their order, asking for the check instead. Cindy made a quick exit and parted company with Richard in the parking lot, where she had left Paula’s car. Paula was on duty at the hospital and Cindy had to pick her up at seven that night.

  Cindy was almost sick with jealousy. She had never cared enough about a man to experience the emotion before, and she was feeling the full force of its destructive effects as she drove back to Paula’s apartment. Fox’s female companion had been very pretty, a tall, statuesque brunette, and all the way home Cindy imagined him touching her, kissing her.

  Stop it, she instructed herself severely as she unlocked the door. She was behaving childishly, and she knew it. These things happened to people all the time. Just because it had never happened to her before didn’t mean she had to fall apart like a teenager disappointed in a first crush.

  She changed clothes and read the newspaper, killing time until she went for Paula. The hospital lot was crowded, and Cindy maneuvered the car to the emergency exit, where Paula was waiting. She had decided not to tell her friend about seeing Fox, but the words rushed out of her mouth as soon as Paula had closed the passenger door behind her.

  “You just saw him?” Paula asked.

  “About an hour ago. In the Golden Door down in Council Rock. He was with some girl.”

  “And how do you feel about that?” Paula asked.

  “Paula, I was so jealous that I disgusted myself. I saw him ordering a bottle of wine and I wanted to go over there and pour it over both their heads.”

  Paula stared at her. “You? The woman who never returned a single social call from a man during our entire four years of college unless I dialed the phone first?”

  “Me,” Cindy confirmed miserably.

  Paula sighed. “You must be in love.”

  Cindy stopped at a red light and bent her head over the wheel. “What am I going to do? He told me he didn’t want to see me anymore, but somehow that didn’t sink in with me. I’m still reacting as if he were my exclusive property, which he never was in the first place. I feel like I’m going crazy.”

  “Listen, Cindy. I haven’t told you this because I could tell that you didn’t want to discuss it, but maybe letting you go was the greatest compliment Fox could pay you.”

  “What are you talking about?” Cindy asked, as the light changed and she drove ahead.

  “Just this. He could have slept with you, used you for the time you were here, and then kissed you off when you left. He’s behaving honorably by his standards. Do you see that?”

  “I guess so,” Cindy replied slowly. “I know he was doing what he thought was right. But it doesn’t help the pain much. Seeing him with somebody else went through me like a shot.”

  “Welcome to the world of disenchanted lovers,” Paula said wryly. “See what you’ve been missing while hiding out in that ivory tower? It looks kind of safe up there from where you’re standing right now, doesn’t it?”

  Cindy didn’t answer. She didn’t have to; they both knew that Paula was right.

  * * * *

  Paula had decided to give herself a home permanent and enlisted Cindy’s aid in rolling up her hair and applying the lotion. The smell of ammonia permeated the apartment as she sat in the bathroom waiting for the required time to elapse. Cindy was trying to watch television when her already shaky concentration was interrupted by an abrupt pounding on Paula’s door.

  “Who on earth is that?” Paula called from her seclusion.

  “Should I get it?” Cindy asked doubtfully, as the noise continued.

  “Maybe we should call security,” Paula suggested, as the outer door, which was unlocked, burst open suddenly. Fox barged through it, his expression agitated.

  “Cindy? What’s going on?” Paula demanded, emerging from the bathroom with her hair mired in tiny pink curlers. End papers stuck out in all directions from this arrangement, which was held in place by a mesh scarf tied at the back of her neck.

&n
bsp; “Good God,” Fox said, when this vision appeared. “What’s all that on your head? You look like you’re wired for sound.”

  “Never mind,” Paula snapped. “What do you mean by banging on my door like that? I was about to call the police. Haven’t you heard of doorbells?”

  “I want to talk to Cindy,” he replied flatly.

  “And this is how you go about it? Maybe she doesn’t want to talk to you.”

  “It’s all right, Paula,” Cindy said. “I’ll see him.”

  “Are you sure?” Paula asked suspiciously.

  “I’m sure.”

  She nodded. With a final outraged glance at Fox, Paula retired to the bathroom, slamming the door loudly.

  “She’s crazy about me,” Fox said, deadpan, and Cindy suppressed a smile.

  “You can hardly blame her,” Cindy said.

  “You’re right about that. Since your arrival, our relationship, which wasn’t the best to begin with, has gone straight down the tubes.”

  Cindy looked at him levelly. “Perhaps you’ll be good enough to tell me what all this is about?”

  “You know what it’s about,” he answered tightly. “I saw you in the Golden Door tonight.”

  ‘‘Oh. I was hoping that you missed me.”

  He nodded sourly. “I can understand why. You didn’t waste much time, did you?”

  “I could say the same about you.”

  “Who was that guy?” he demanded. “How do you know him?”

  “You have no right to ask me these questions,” Cindy answered, turning away.

  “I have every right,” he almost shouted, his eyes blazing.

  She faced him again, her anger rising to meet his. “And just how do you figure that?” She shook her head incredulously. “You gave me the gate not one week ago, and now here you are grilling me like a suspicious husband. You wanted to stop seeing me; that whole scenario was your idea. Where do you get off pulling this interrogation number?”

  “I did not give you the gate,” he enunciated clearly, his fists clenching and unclenching reflexively.

  “Oh? What would you call it?”

  “I did what I thought was best for both of us.”

  “Fine. You should be happy. Then why are you here?”

  “You know why I’m here. I didn’t like the looks of that guy.”

  Cindy couldn’t help laughing. Richard might be mistaken for an earnest intern or a fledgling minister, but never a cloak-and-dagger type. Fox was really reaching.

  “Don’t be absurd. That guy, as you call him, is my thesis advisor. He’s already on his way home to Pennsylvania.”

  Fox looked mollified. “Oh. Then it wasn’t a date?”

  “I had dinner with a friend. Can we leave it at that? Now unless you have something further to say, I suggest you get out of here before Paula’s remaining patience runs out.”

  He remained motionless, staring at her stubbornly.

  “Did you hear me?” Cindy asked.

  He exhaled sharply and dropped his eyes. She waited as he shifted restlessly, obviously trying to say something that was difficult for him.

  He looked up again, and she felt the impact of his eyes with an almost physical jolt.

  “Look, can we start over again? I’ve been missing you, and I think I made a mistake last week, saying what I did. Maybe we should give it another try.”

  Cindy’s pulses leaped, but she maintained the outward appearance of calm.

  “I don’t know if that would be such a good idea, Drew,” she replied carefully.

  “Why not?”

  “Because I don’t think you’ve really changed your mind about us. You just saw me tonight and you’re reacting emotionally. The basic problem remains.”

  “Aren’t we the sensible little miss?” he said acidly. “As logical as a computer. And just as cold.”

  “Logic is better than runaway romanticism.”

  “Oh, come on, get off it. You’re just trying to punish me for last week. I hurt you and you want to hurt me back.”

  “I don’t operate that way, Drew,” she answered quietly. “But I can’t help it if you think I do.”

  “So your answer is no?”

  She wanted to agree, but found that she couldn’t. She needed to be with him so badly that it overrode caution and reason.

  “What did you have in mind?” she hedged.

  Encouraged, he said eagerly, “I play on a semi-pro jai alai team in Ocala. We have a game Friday night. You could watch me play and then we could go out afterward. Does that sound okay?”

  She couldn’t resist his childlike enthusiasm. He had missed her. He must have, to be so thrilled at her hint of acceptance.

  “Okay,” she said, and he grinned.

  “I’ll pick you up at seven,” he said, heading for the door.

  “Drew?” she called, as he reached for the knob.

  He looked at her over his shoulder.

  “What’s jai alai?”

  He laughed.

  “You’ll see,” he answered, and left.

  * * * *

  Watching jai alai proved to be an enlightening experience. A game invented by the Basques of Spain, it resembled handball, except that the players didn’t hit the ball with their hands. They caught it in a mitt called a cesta and then threw it back. Fox’s game was being played in an arena called a fronton and was the subject of mass betting among the spectators. Fox got Cindy a front row seat, and she didn’t care that she couldn’t understand a thing going on in the court. Her eyes glued to Fox, she watched his lightning moves throughout the game, leaping to her feet and screaming with the other fans every time it was clear that he had scored. His team won, and afterward they went out with a group of players and their dates, or wives, until Fox took her aside during a lull in the music.

  “Let’s blow this joint,” he said. “The dining room set we ordered arrived. Do you want to go over to my place and see it?”

  This was clearly a pretext to get her alone, but Cindy wanted that as much as he did. She nodded, and he made their excuses to the group.

  They went to his apartment and looked at the new furniture. They looked at the view. They looked at the newly installed carpeting in the hall. They avoided looking at each other. Finally Fox came and stood next to Cindy at the window. He touched her arm and she jumped.

  “Yeah,” he said huskily. “I know exactly how you feel.”

  Cindy turned to look at him. His hair was still slightly damp from his post game shower, and it clung together at the ends in shiny tufts. He wore a green pullover that heightened the color of his eyes, and his tan deepened the dusky shade of his skin to sepia. He was beautiful, exotic, infinitely desirable to the woman who saw in him the culmination of centuries of struggle and endurance. Maybe he wasn’t perfect, maybe he wasn’t even right for her, as Paula said, but she loved him and that was all she knew.

  Fox reached out and gently tucked her into his arms. “I can’t fight this anymore,” he murmured. “I want us to make love, Cindy. Do you still feel the same?”

  Cindy’s throat tightened with unshed tears, and the right words would not come. He misinterpreted her silence and released her, his face shadowed with a disappointment so deep he was unable to conceal it.

  “No, huh?” he said, making an attempt to dismiss it lightly. “I guess I blew it. You should have told me that it was a one-time-only offer.” He couldn’t quite pull it off, and his shoulders slumped in defeat. “I’m sorry,” he added quietly. “I’ll take you home.”

  Cindy stepped forward and slipped her arms around his lean waist. With a sigh of complete surrender, she put her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes.

  He understood and enfolded her once again. “Oh, princess,” he said, in a voice that was not quite steady, “all those years in school and you still don’t know what to say at a moment like this.”

  “I’ve never had a moment like this, Drew,” she whispered. “I want to share it with you. Only with you.”
>
  “And you will,” he said fiercely, his grip tightening. “After I brought you home the last time you were here, I thought, if I’m not the first some other man will be. The idea drove me crazy. And then when I saw you with that guy in the restaurant…”

  Cindy raised her head to look at him. “You have no rival in Richard, Drew. You have no rival in anyone.” She saw him draw a breath, and then he kissed her so urgently that she had to clutch his arms to keep from rocking back on her heels. He shifted position, clasping her with one arm and slipping the other under her knees. Cindy’s feet left the floor as he picked her up and strode with her into the bedroom.

  Fox set her gently on the bed, kneeling before her on the floor. Cindy had picked out the spread, the curtains and the rug, but everything looked new, as if she were seeing it for the first time. When Fox reached up to undo the buttons of her blouse, she shivered. His hand fell away and he moved to sit next to her.

  “Come here,” he said.

  She relaxed into his arms.

  “Your teeth are practically chattering,” he said into her ear. “It can’t be the climate controlled temperature in this computerized apartment, so it must be me.”

  Cindy managed a small laugh.

  “That’s better,” he said, a smile in his voice. “Who’s afraid of the big bad wolf?”

  “Fox,” she corrected, and he chuckled.

  “Look,” he said, sitting up and cupping her chin in his hand. “Nothing will happen if you change your mind. Just say the word and we’re both out of here.”

  Cindy met his eyes. “I don’t want to go...it’s just that...” She looked away. “Virgins are so much trouble, aren’t they?”

  “You are no trouble at all,” he answered. “Listen to me now. We’ll take it easy and go slow. If at any time you want me to stop, just tell me and I will.”

  “You will?” she said.

  “Of course. I’m not a machine that can’t be stopped once it’s set in motion, and I don’t want to rape you. I want to love you. It won’t be any good for me unless it’s good for you, don’t you understand that?”

  “I understand,” she replied meekly, and he grinned.