Professor next Door

by Summer Cooper

  After the wedding night, when she’d left me on my own, I’d come to see that the two lives I had been leading were tearing me apart. One was empty, sexually satisfying, but empty. The other was fulfilling, loving, but missing something. Tara had filled in the missing piece without even trying.

  I knew I should wait for her to wake up, that I should stick around and talk to her, but she looked so peaceful, the skin under her eyes bruised with exhaustion. We’d had a long night and I knew she’d be sore today. I’d let myself go too much. Maybe too much for her sexual initiation. She hadn’t complained though, she’d demanded more if anything.

  I slid out from under her, making sure she was still asleep before I left the bed. I’d leave her a note and see her that evening.

  Except it didn’t turn out that way. I spent the evening in a meeting with several faculty members discussing whether or not I was going to be able to keep my job. I’d thought the matter was finished but somebody complained, said the school was being too lenient. I found myself defending my position and my career.

  “Look, nothing sexual happened between us until we were married. At all.” In fact, it didn’t happen until last night, though I couldn’t tell them that. “She’s not in any of my classes and she won’t have to be, she’s in another history class and doesn’t have to take mine at all. We aren’t meeting in the hallways and making out. We rarely even go out in public. She’s my wife now, that’s not going to change. I know it’s not exactly appropriate but, there’s no formal policy on the matter. I bring far more to the university than I take away, and well, I think my abilities have proven themselves over the years.”

  I looked around at the gathered faces, seeing that most of them agreed with me. All of them but one older lady, commonly known as the dragon-queen on campus by students and faculty.

  “And what assurances will you give us that you won’t be chasing after the next impressionable young girl that catches your eye?” The woman’s wrinkled face and lined lips pinched together, her whole face turning into something that resembled scrunched up leather. I knew instinctively she hated anything happy in life and wanted to destroy it. Those merciless, rheumy eyes of hers screamed it at me.

  I’d printed out a copy of the picture from our wedding that had caught my eye, the fragile print now in the pocket of my sports jacket. I pulled it out and put it on the table before me, letting them all have a look at my beautiful wife.

  “That’s my wife. Would you want to destroy the look she’s giving me with infidelity?” All of them took the picture, examined it and passed it on. When it made its way to the dragon-queen her nostrils flared and the flush in her cheeks intensified. It was anger, not admiration.

  “I think we all know this is a bit pointless. What Galen’s done is not exactly above board but taking drastic steps now will only draw attention to it. I suggest we leave the matter alone and let them carry on.” Melanie, a normally quiet lady from the English department spoke up, her glance bouncing off mine for a moment with a shy smile.

  I gave her a thank you smile and felt relief as the rest agreed. All but the dragon-queen. “Well, I think it’s a mistake of major proportions, but without support I can’t make a case can I? Have it your way!”

  She stormed from the room, her crown of stiff white hair piled into an elaborate bun on top of her head twitching. The meeting was adjourned.

  “That settles it then, Galen. Do be careful from now on, won’t you?” My adviser, a woman in her early fifties who had taken me under her wing when I’d first started at the university told me, gathering her things to leave.

  “Yes, Dawn. Thank you for your support.” I shook her hand as she left with the others, thanking them all as they went. I sat, stunned I’d managed to escape another fiasco.

  I went to my office to finish grading papers, checked my phone to see that Tara had messaged me, and sent her one back. The central air had been fixed, she was doing homework while Amanda played with Rikki, and dinner would be in the fridge for me, if I was going to be late. She hadn’t complained that I’d not come home, she wasn’t throwing a tantrum telling me she had homework to do, she was just getting on with life and making do.

  Amanda was a blessing in disguise, always there to help when needed, and a good friend to Tara from what I could tell. She helped to draw Tara out of her shell, and brought out a devilish streak I found absolutely delightful. With a sigh, I started grading the papers, not noticing when my eyes went bleary, or when they closed.

  One minute I was grading papers, and the next I woke up. I saw from the large white clock on the wall that it was after midnight. Scraping the sleep from my face, I pushed the papers into a drawer and staggered to my feet. I needed sleep.

  I made it home and went straight to my bed. Tara wasn’t there so I went to her room. She was there, Rikki in bed with her, a kid’s movie still playing on the television in her room. Both were asleep, snuggled up together, tangled up in such a sweetly innocent way that I didn’t want to disturb them. I set my alarm to get me up early enough to finish grading the papers and fell into bed naked. I was asleep before I could even form another thought.

  16. Tara

  The next few days flew by, and I was glad for it. I’d barely seen Galen, late meetings, appointments with his lawyer, and a thousand other things kept us apart. I had to meet with my advisor, then a major paper was due and I had to rely on John to watch Rikki in the evenings. Luckily for me, he was available.

  I spent a lot of time researching, digging up facts and writing citations, creating an outline, writing a first draft, then a second, and finally feeling the third was just right. My nerves were strung tight on the morning of the first hearing, so tight I was jumping at every noise and touch.

  I’d had zero experience with the justice system in America but I’d heard horror stories, had read about how unfair it could all be despite the promise of fairness. I was dreading the court hearing for Galen.

  John was going to watch Rikki while we were at the hearing, and Amanda would join him later. They’d both be there when we came home. Amanda, who had friends that had been through some kind of trial in their life, had already warned me it could take a while.

  Galen drove us there quietly, his nerves strung tighter than mine. I stayed quiet but held his hand as we walked to the courthouse. An older man, prestigious looking and collected, met us and directed us into a room.

  “Hi Galen, deep breaths buddy. I think we have this in the bag. You must be Mrs. Elliot. I’m Bill, Galen’s lawyer. A pleasure to meet you.” He had a warm, reassuring voice and for the first time that day I felt myself relax to somewhere just under shattering point.

  He closed the door as we sat down in chairs around a long table and took a file from his briefcase.

  “I think this is going to be a simple case, Galen. Rikki’s medical reports show she’s healthy mentally and physically. The study performed by the Georgia Child Protective services declares her to be in a good home, with a stable parent, with no signs of abuse or mistreatment. You’ve been employed steadily for over five years, and there is absolutely no reason to remove Rikki from your care. We filed for legitimization of your parental rights soon after Kayla passed, so that’s not in question either. Just hang tight, buddy, we got this.”

  After that, everything was a blur for about forty-five minutes. I sat quietly, watching everything, but not really taking it in. I was lost as to how people with no legal claim to a child could turn parental rights on their head. I could see how if the parents were unfit it might be reasonable, but Galen was a great father, a devoted father, and these people were just being petty. I suspected they were trying to replace their daughter with their granddaughter but that was still no excuse.

  The judge read out his statements as two older people, a fragile looking man of around sixty-five and a rather stony-faced woman of around sixty stared at him like he was their lifeline. A female in her thirties sat next to them, looking far too smug for my liking. She ke
pt shooting Bill, Galen’s lawyer, hateful little smirks. I wanted to belt her right in her over-plumped lips. Were those stuffed with some kind of filler? What was that?

  “Ms. Luther, you may begin.” He looked doubtfully at the woman sitting at the other table in the small room. Even he wasn’t thrilled with this case.

  “Thank you, your honor. I know this may seem like a pointless case, but I assure you it is not. We have a very serious case here and it took a while to get the witness to agree to come to court today. You see, your honor, the Millers allege that Galen Elliot is an unfit parent on the grounds that he murdered his wife.”

  Everyone on our side of the room, including the judge, turned to the smirking lawyer as she went to the door. Opening the portal, a tall blond woman with boobs out to there and ass out to here, stepped through and looked around coldly. Oh, she’s trouble, I thought, staring at her. Glancing at Galen I saw her appearance had stunned him too. Who was she? I’d have to guess a past fling.

  “Your honor, this is Sarah Rogers, a former lover of Mr. Elliot. She has a few things to tell you.”

  “Now wait a minute, Ms. Luther. This was not listed in discovery, and if you truly want to accuse Mr. Elliot you should take this up with the authorities, the police, not me or this court.”

  I thought it might be over then, but Ms. Luther carried on.

  “We have just handed over our evidence this morning, your honor. Mr. Elliot can expect a few questions from the police after this hearing is adjourned.”

  Smug bitch! She continued, despite the judge telling her that her clients were wasting his time.

  “Your honor, Sarah here can tell you about the affair she was having while Mr. Elliot’s wife was pregnant, and that it was this affair that drove them apart. It was this affair that drove Mrs. Elliot to run off during a storm, a decision that cost her her life.”

  “I can see why the police haven’t arrested him already. Ms. Luther, are you really going to waste my time with this conjecture?”

  “On the contrary, your honor. Ms. Rogers has proof of Mr. Elliot’s infidelities at the time the marriage was falling apart!”

  I turned to look at Galen, remembering the day he’d told me he’d not cheated after he found out Kayla was pregnant. Had it been a lie?

  “That is a damned lie!” Galen burst to his feet but Bill quickly pulled him down and shushed him.

  Galen had been quiet through the proceedings, never murmuring a word as he was accused of murder, never raising a defense, not until they said he’d been carrying on the affair up to the end of Kayla’s life. I was torn inside, but I knew Galen. I knew he wouldn’t lie. Not to me, anyway. Was I being naive?

  “Your honor, I’m sorry to interrupt but I’d like to have this dismissed, please. There’s no real proof of anything here.”

  “I’m inclined to agree with you, Bill. I think I’ll leave this up to the police and continue this at such a time as there is some proof other than conjecture and what I’m sure are two very broken hearts. Make that four.” He looked over at Galen with sympathy and we were all free to go.

  As that hell-bitch had promised, there were two policemen waiting for Galen outside of the room when we went out.

  “Mr. Elliot, you are not under arrest but we do have some questions for you.” The first one, a thick, balding man that towered over Galen spoke. Galen hung his head and walked away with them.

  “Look here now, Tara. You get on home. I’ll have my secretary call a taxi for you. I’m sure I can get Galen out of this mess. Damned greedy bastards,” Bill said. I wasn’t sure what that last part meant but I nodded my head anyway.

  Galen hadn’t been arrested but he’d been taken in for questioning. What did all of this mean? Why hadn’t he stuck around to explain it to me more? Had he been carrying on the affair? Had he lied to me?

  The thought played through my mind, tormenting me, that maybe I’d jumped into everything and perhaps I’d been played. Could a man lie about such open need? I remembered the way he’d looked at me that night we’d made love, the way he’d yearned for me, the moan he’d let out as he’d given up trying to fight his longing for me.

  Could that have all been faked? I paced the hallway of the courthouse, my new heels pinching my toes, the tight waist of the dress I had on felt like it was smothering me. I had to go home. I needed to hold Rikki, I needed to think, I needed to know what the hell was going on!

  Why would the judge postpone the hearing if it was all conjecture? That didn’t seem right to me. It told me he thought there might be some merit in the things Ms. Luther had spouted. And if the police were now questioning Galen, that meant they saw some merit in the whole thing too.

  I paced until the car came, then silently rode in the back until I got to the house. John was at the door by the time I walked up to it, the fact that I was alone and in a taxi telling him something was wrong.

  “What’s happened?” He took my elbow and helped me inside the cold house, but I held up my hand.

  “Let me change first. Please, I can’t keep this stupid dress on!” I’d chosen it for its conservative look, black with a satin black collar. It was conservative, not dressy, but not informal. Just perfect. Now I never wanted to see it again. I threw it in the corner of the closet, pulled out some gray sweatpants I’d had for years, a t-shirt that was almost transparent it had been worn so many times, and pulled my hair up into its normal bun. I needed to wear my armor to do this.

  “Right,” I said to John, walking back into the living room and plopping down on Galen’s super-comfortable long black couch. “He’s being questioned for the murder of his wife.”

  John stared at me from across the room where he sat in a recliner. “Murder?”

  The question was very carefully asked, as if he thought I’d lost my mind and might attack him.

  “Yes, it seems they’ve dug up a witness that will testify that Galen drove Kayla to her death. I’m not sure how yet, but I guess we’ll find out.”

  “I wondered when that would be brought up.” John sat back and looked at me in some kind of odd satisfaction.

  “What? What are you talking about?” I wanted to hate him but something told me John was onto something. He loved Galen as a man loves his brother, he wouldn’t have doubts like I did.

  I didn’t think Galen was guilty of murdering his wife, and I wasn’t going to let his one source of stability be taken away. Looking at John I knew we could make a team, we could make sure Galen didn’t fall further into whatever traps Kayla’s parents had set.

  “There were no skid marks at the scene of the accident. Which means she never hit the brakes.”

  “And?” I asked, not seeing the point.

  “Galen’s wondered if she killed herself ever since. It seems they want to blame Galen for pushing her to what I suspect was suicide.” He stroked his beard in a way I would have found comical in any other situation. His eyes narrowed as he thought over the matter.

  “You can’t convict someone for that, can you? If so there would be a lot more people in jail right now for things they never even realized they were doing!”

  “I don’t know, actually. I’d have to research it.” His phone buzzed in his pocket, interrupting us. I assumed it was one of his friends. “No, it’s not gone well. I’ll tell you when you get here. Yeah, later.”

  He put the phone away and looked back at me. “Does Galen still have all of those files he’d put away?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I looked to him for an answer but he was still busy stroking his beard. I scowled, preparing to growl if he didn’t answer me.

  “There was an investigation when Kayla first died. Galen used to have quite a few boxes of stuff. Her medical files were in there. Those might be helpful.” John stood and started to open closet doors and stopped when he got to the attic.

  “I bet they’re up there.” He pulled the stairs down and made to climb up.

  “Should we be doing this? That has to be a
ll the private stuff Galen’s kept. Maybe... maybe we shouldn’t touch it.”

  “Honey, I love you for loving him, but he’d do the same for me. If it was me he’d be invading the hell out of my privacy. I’ll do the same for him.” He gave me a chuck under the chin and climbed up. “Yep, found them!”

  He started passing boxes down to me. By the time he’d finished there were six boxes stacked in the kitchen. We stared at them when he came down. Six brown boxes covered in dust and filled with answers, we hoped.

  “Where do we start?” I asked, looking at John doubtfully.

  “We start with box one. Get a notepad, we’ll write stuff down that strikes us as important. Amanda will be here soon, then she can help too.”

  “Tar-wah, where Daddy?” Rikki came in, sleepily rubbing at her eyes. She’d woken up from her nap. I put her in my lap and kissed her neck as she cuddled into me.

  “He’s got to talk to some people, honey, but then he’ll be home soon, don’t worry.” I hoped I wasn’t lying to her.

  17. Galen

  I stared at the two men sitting across from me, wondering when they were going to stop asking me the same questions.

  “Look, why weren’t these questions asked two years ago when Kayla died? I didn’t kill my wife, I didn’t drive her to kill herself, and I wasn’t having an affair with a student at the time of her death. I don’t care what Sarah has said, she was out of my life by that time.”

  “That’s as may be, Mr. Elliot, but it remains a fact that you did not seek help for your wife when she was clearly showing signs of postpartum depression. Why?”