by Debbie Zello
After spending most of the day working on my computer, I decided to go out. I rode around for a while and found myself near Understanding’s office. His truck was parked in the lot along with three other cars. I pulled in and parked next to a sleek black convertible.
I grabbed the black coffee that I had stopped to get for him and walked around to the front door. From where I stood, I could see right into his office through the open door.
Understanding was gesturing with both hands. A stunning woman with long blonde hair was standing very close to his face. As he spoke, she placed both of her hands on his chest, fanning her fingers out as if to feel him. I felt it was too personal a touch to be a customer.
At her touch, he moved his hands to her arms. I thought he would gently push her away but they just stood there still talking. A lightning bolt of jealousy went through me. I was glued to the spot where I stood.
I looked at her closely. Her black skirt was so short it barely covered her butt. Her legs were long, shapely and sexy. Her feet covered by five-inch heels. She wore a shirt that was low cut with off-shoulder straps and I’m sure she didn’t have a bra on. She was dressed to kill and she had her hands on my man.
I took a deep breath and placed the coffee on the mailbox next to the door. I turned and walked back to my car, opened the door and got in. I was trying to process what I had just witnessed into a scenario I could accept as innocent. My hands seized the steering wheel with a deathlike grip.
A knock on my window scared the crap out of me. I looked over to the passenger side door to see Joey, one of the men that worked for Understanding. I rolled down the window. “Hi, Joey.”
“What are you doing? Come on, I’ll walk you in,” he said smiling.
“I was just there. He has company.”
“You sound funny. What do you mean by ‘company’?”
“He was talking to a woman. They looked comfortable with each other. I brought him a coffee. I left it on the mailbox. Please bring it into him,” I said starting the car.
I felt drained as I pulled away from the lot. I thought of all the nights he came home smelling of smoke, booze, and perfume. He always showered before coming to bed. Now I wondered if it was to wash off another woman. He had the perfect job for a man that wanted to cheat. He also had the face and body that any woman would want. My imagination was running wild as I began to put all of my two and two’s together.
I drove until I reached the shore, with my phone ringing in my purse every ten minutes. Texts came in one after another. I parked my car, got out and sat on the sand looking at the ocean. I watched lovers and families play on the sand and in the ocean.
I lay down with my purse under my head and closed my eyes. I went to my field of tall grass. I began to feel better, stronger, more in command of my feelings. I knew I had to listen to what he had to say. What you see is not necessarily what has happened. I took out my phone and looked at the texts first.
Baby call me.
I’m sorry Neomi but it’s not what you think.
Where are you? I’ll come to you.
Firelight please call me.
I’m very worried. Where are you?
I love you…don’t you know that?
Please talk to me!
Then the voice mails.
“Oh baby, I know what you are thinking. She is a customer, that’s all.
Please call me.”
“Neomi where are you? I’m home but you’re not here. Please give me a chance to explain.”
“I love you, Firelight, only you. I swear that you are the only woman I want. I haven’t been with anyone but you since I met you. You are my one and only. Talk to me, please.”
I dusted myself off and went back to my car. The sun was setting as I drove quickly back. I talked myself out of what I thought because of the way I knew he loved me. He couldn’t hold me and make love to me the way he did if he was with someone else. This I knew. I just should have realized it sooner. I didn’t give him the benefit of my doubt.
I pulled into our driveway, parked and swung open my door. As fast as I could, I bolted up the stairs to the front door. Understanding must have heard me pull in because he opened the door just as I got to it. “Thank God,” he said upon seeing me. He stood back to allow me to enter. He looked both pensive and frightened. I walked right into his arms. He folded them around me holding me against his chest tightly. Lowering his nose to my neck, he kissed my shoulder. “Do you forgive me for letting her touch me that way?”
“If you forgive me for ever doubting you,” I said lifting my head to look at him. He gave me a tight smile.
“I thought I had lost you. When Joe came in and told me what you said and how you looked, I thought I had blown it with you. I almost threw up at the thought of losing you. I wouldn’t survive it if you left me,” he said kissing me. I kissed him back opening to him. He groaned loudly and the reverberations went through me. He kissed down my face and neck. His lips were merely floating over my skin but I felt their warmth everywhere.
“I’m sorry I fled like that. Taking off before I let you have a chance to talk was juvenile at best.”
“You were jealous and that is kind of hot. If I saw a man with his hands on your breasts, I would lose it too. This amounts to the same thing. I admit that I haven’t been exactly honorable in my prior relationships. What I have with you is worth me keeping my pants on. My zipper comes down for you and only you.” he said taking his shirt off.
I smiled because of his cocky smile. He knows what looking at his body does to me, the bastard. I placed my hands on his chest just as hers were. I fanned my fingers out to feel the flesh and muscle. “So this is mine?”
“Absolutely. I expect you to make use of it at every possible opportunity. I love you, Firelight. I’m desperate for you,” he said picking me up and walking up the stairs to our bedroom.
He set me down next to the bed. He began gently removing my clothes keeping eye contact with me. As soon as I was naked, he took his pants and boxers off. He reached behind me to pull the covers down. Lifting me, he placed me near the center of the bed and then got in beside me.
His hands ghosted down my body to rest his fingers on my tattoo. “I know that this is where you put your hand when you’re stressed or scared. You use it to remind you of your field of grass at the ranch. Your safe place.”
“That’s why I got it. I’m so far away from my place I needed a tangible reminder. Where is your safe place?” I asked. My fingers on his cheek slid around his neck to pull him close.
“Inside you is my safe place. I see myself with you under me. I imagine gliding in and out of you. I can see you, how you look, when you squeeze me. When I know that you’re reaching nirvana. Right then, at that moment, is my place.”
“You’re going to make me cry,” I whispered. He rose over me settling in between my legs. I watched his face as a wide smile gripped his lips.
“There’s no place like home,” he said without clicking his heels.
We spent the summer similarly engaged. He came home as often as he could; showering off the stale smoke and beer smell from the many venues he attended. He would tell me the ends that the women would come to, in their attempt to get through him, to the star he was guarding.
Knowing how strong his feelings were for me made his stories seem more funny than frightening. In his past, he might have indulged, but now he was mine. I could imagine him looking at them with his ‘I can crush concrete blocks with my bare hands’ look, and them backing off.
We went for rides on his bike, stopping for lunch and sitting in the sand at the beach. I did my research and writing at night, adjusting my sleep schedule to coincide with his.
Around a week before classes were to begin, I had to readjust to my school timetable. My late nights and sleeping in were over.
I took out Professor Miller’s notes and lesson plans to go over everything. I remembered him saying that the new students wouldn’t know how nervous I was or
that I didn’t know what I was doing. The second year students might not either. So, with my confidence bolstered by Understanding, I went to Miller’s office to get the class lists.
I sat at his desk looking around at his books and the other trappings of a professor’s office. I wondered if this might be my office someday. If I might be esteemed enough to be offered a professorship at Yale. It was hard to imagine what might happen, given the fact that I haven’t completed my PhD yet.
I looked over everything. I was asked to attend the freshman orientation in Miller’s place. I smiled at the memory of Royce doing the very same thing when I was a freshman. That was seven years ago. A lifetime ago for me. I was a completely different person then. I packed up what I needed and went home to spend my last few days before the craziness began with my man.
Chapter Thirty-Three
I sat on the stage, looking out at the faces of the children in front of me. I call them children because all of a sudden I felt so old. When I sat where they are sitting, they were in sixth grade. Now I know how Royce and Understanding felt about being with me. How odd that their age had never bothered me.
The program began with the heads of departments introducing the professors in their sections. Each professor gives a very brief welcome to Yale and the English division. Thankfully, I am spared, probably because I haven’t paid any dues to the department and they’re afraid to let me speak. Being unpublished has its perks.
I find myself looking out to locate the seat that I held on my first day. Third row, third seat, left side. My eyes glide to locate it. I smile at the familiar face I see sitting there. It’s the young man from the coffee house. I think his name is Jaycon. I give him a small wave of my fingers. His smile back is wide and friendly.
The orientation draws to a close. Professor Gardner, the department head, approached me. “Good morning, Miss Dillon.”
“Good morning, Professor Gardner.”
“Are you ready to assume Professor Miller’s classes?”
“Yes, sir. I have his lesson plans and a few ideas of my own. It’s only six days. What could go wrong in six days?” I said joking.
“Considering that according to the most read book in the entire world, God created everything in just six days, I’m guessing quite a lot could go wrong. See to it that nothing does, Miss Dillon,” he said sternly.
“Yes, professor. I’ll keep that in mind as I prepare,” I said with my best contrite tone. It wouldn’t do well to piss-off the department head with a flippant answer. Academics can be so literal. He walked away and I took a deep breath before turning to walk off the stage.
As I got to the stairs, I looked up at Jaycon standing at the side of the room. He walked to me smiling. “I waited to talk to you. I hope you don’t mind,” he said.
“Not at all, I’m glad that you waited. Are you excited for classes to begin?”
“I am. I couldn’t wait to get here. I’m here on a full scholarship.”
“That’s amazing, Jaycon. Really quite an accomplishment. Your parents must be very proud.”
“They are, I guess. The Greenbergs probably couldn’t have afforded to send me here if I didn’t get the scholarship. I wanted to be here desperately.”
“The Greenbergs? Your parents?”
“Yes, I meant my parents. They’re nice people but not equipped to pay for Yale.”
“Few people are. I was here on a full scholarship also. My family would never have been able to afford this education. What are you taking?”
“I’m an English major. I have Professor Miller’s English Lit course amongst others. I guess that means I have you for the first six days. Don’t let Gardner bother you. He’s a curmudgeon left over from the seventies.”
“How do you know Professor Gardner?”
“Oh, um, I have spoken to him about the University.”
“I see. Well, enjoy the last two days before class,” I said beginning to walk away.
“You too. I’m looking forward to our first day.”
“You look very studious and completely gorgeous. How many boys do you have in your classes?” Understanding said from the bed. I stood in front of him looking at his body barely covered by the sheet around his hips. I was staring and I wasn’t paying attention.
“Are there any boys in you class, Neomi?” he said louder.
“Um, yes, boys, there are boys. Why?” I asked finally finding words to say. Why did his chest and abs still cause my brain to malfunction? He laughed, pissing me off because he knew what he does to me.
“Come here, baby,” he said opening his arms.
“You’ll mess me up.”
“I won’t mess you. If you don’t come here I’m going to get up and come to you. Then you will be messed up when I drag you back to bed,” he said laughing quietly. I didn’t think I could take looking at his nude body so I walked to him and sat on the bed.
“It’s not fair that the boys have a teacher as hot as you are. I never had a hot teacher. I guess I feel sorry for them. They’ll all have a hard-on throughout the class.”
“Right! You’re delusional. They won’t even pay any attention to me because I’m not a professor. I’m a lowly teaching assistant and they don’t have to impress me,” I said leaning against his chest. His fingers moved up my leg and under my linen skirt.
“I’ll be here when you get home. I bet I can impress you!” he said moving his mouth to my ear for a nibble. I felt that quickening, that he always starts. I pulled away from him.
“You’re making me all hot and bothered and I have to leave. Hold that thought for when I get back. You can try to impress me then,” I said winking.
“I love you. You know that right?”
“I know that and I love you too.”
“Good, so when are you going to marry me?”
“How does right after I take my general exams sound? As long as you don’t want anything fancy with a ton of guests and all of the trimmings.”
“You and me and a JP in the living room is just fine with me. Whatever you want. A church, the town hall or naked in a field, just let me know where and when.”
“Naked in a field does sound appealing, but I think the living room sounds warmer for March or April,” I said smiling.
“Good luck, baby. Show them how smart you are,” he said as I walked out of the room.
The first class was second year students. It went very well with just a brief introduction, handing out the reading prospectus and the syllabus. Professor Miller hands out the syllabus as well as a separate prospectus knowing that most of the students won’t read the syllabus until they have to. This way, there won’t be any “I didn’t know I had to do that” with the students. He tends to hold their hands the first two weeks.
The second class began to flow into the lecture hall taking seats next to anyone they knew. I watched as they filtered in wondering if they were thinking the same things I was thinking on my first day. When I saw Royce standing where I am now. I wondered, too, what he was thinking. Was he as nervous as I am?
“Good morning. I saw many of you at freshman orientation but for those of you that didn’t make it, my name is Neomi Dillon. I am Professor Miller’s TA this year. I’m completing my PhD in English Lit with a focus on women’s writing.”
“For many of you this course is a compulsory for graduation. For some of you, it will be your nemesis. For a few, your savior. That’s what it was for me. I found my direction and my future here with Professor Miller,” I said looking over the faces to try to pick out the ones that will love English Lit from those that will merely tolerate it for a grade. My eyes settled on Jaycon who was sitting in my seat, again.
“I was given a difficult assignment on my first day here. I have chosen to give you the very same assignment.” I held, hearing the corresponding groans to my use of the word difficult.
“It was difficult for me because I grew up in southern California which is miles away from here in both distance and culture. I found tr
ying to explain it to a stranger difficult. Lucky for me, I had a very understanding TA, and so do you. So please tell me the truth about who you are and what you want from this class and this university. Help me to understand the real you.”
“I want at least one thousand words and you have two days to write it. Your first quiz is Friday of next week and it will be on Chaucer and his writing The Legend of Good Women, which is one of my favorites. I will want a likeness drawn between this writing and Tennyson’s A Dream of Fair Women so be ready,” I cautioned. Jaycon was almost giddy in his seat as if he already knew everything I was looking for.
The class ended with Jaycon walking up to the lectern and saying, “You did very well. You didn’t look nervous at all. No one would know it was your first day.”
“Thank you, but you knew so I wasn’t as opaque as you might think.”
“I’m flattered that you gave out the ‘get to know you’ assignment. I can’t wait for you to read mine. Have a great first day,” he said walking out.
“You too.” I called after him. Did he say flattered? I must have heard him wrong. Why would he be flattered?
The day went by very quickly and before long I was home where I belonged. I fell on the couch exhausted from the excitement of my first day as a teacher. Understanding walked in, took one look at me, and said, “You look beat. How was it?”
“Wonderful! I loved every minute of everything. Tomorrow I get to talk about Chaucer and they have to listen! The power is awesome.”
“Oh my God, they’ve created a monster. You will give them a break from time to time, won’t you?”
“Maybe, no promises though.” I said saucily. He came to sit beside me, and then pulled me onto his lap. “You’re going to wrinkle me.”
“Mmm-hmm,” he murmured bringing his mouth to my ear to begin where he left off this morning.
