by Dara Girard
She pushed back a strand of her thick, dark hair and adjusted her bun. His words hurt, but they were accurate. She had always worked around men, and their wives and girlfriends never felt threatened by her. For one thing there was her size. She topped nearly six feet and was always considered one of the guys, which didn’t bother her. She’d fought hard to be seen as a scientist and not as a woman. Although at times she felt she had succeeded too well.
In her current work environment, she had no one to impress so the emotion quickly dissolved, as did most sad, irrational emotions. She grabbed her things and left.
At the library Brenda regretted saying yes. Only four of the ten students arrived and of the four, only two grasped the concepts she was trying to teach. The biology class was required, so most of the students had little interest in really learning anything besides finding the easiest way to pass the course, and get an A.
Brenda knew she had made a big mistake when she found herself unable to help one student understand the role of recessive genes in the reproductive cycle of the bullfrog and found another student, a tall thin girl with stringy brown hair, busy texting her boyfriend every few minutes.
The experience made her glad she’d stopped teaching. Luckily, one student was attentive. Unfortunately, her interest didn’t make up for the rest of the group, but her enthusiasm did make time go by and helped Brenda feel that the entire session wasn’t a complete waste of time.
At last it was over. The students left without a goodbye or thank you. Brenda didn’t care. The imaginary cigarette was still calling to her. She decided she had to get to the coffeehouse as soon as possible. It was still raining and the one working lamppost outside the library provided less than ample lighting against the dark night as she walked toward the coffee shop, which was just across the street.
“Dr. Everton-Ayers?”
Brenda froze under the overhang outside the library. Nobody had called her by her married name in years. People only knew her as Dr. Everton. She turned and saw a young woman.
“I’m Dr. Everton, yes.”
“Oh.” The young woman looked down at a book she was holding. “This book says Everton-Ay—”
“Yes,” Brenda interrupted. “That was my married name. How may I help you?” she said, trying to keep any irritation from her tone, but she was in no mood to chat at that time of the night. She only cared about getting a cup of coffee and finding a way to get additional funding.
The young woman stood in front of her, blocking her path. Brenda recognized the book immediately: Biological Illustrations. The woman awkwardly flipped through the pages and pointed to a pen and ink illustration of a frog. “This is your work, right?”
“Yes, a long time ago.” She tried to maintain a calm composure, not wanting to appear too brittle, but could feel her patience begin to wane. Get to the point.
The young woman then pulled out a small drawing pad hidden under her coat and shyly showed Brenda a sketch. “I just wondered what you think of this.” Brenda looked at the illustration. It was a crudely drawn sketch of a daffodil, which she could barely see under the poor lighting. Unexpectedly, an errant rain drop fell onto the drawing and smudged a line.
It was awful. The proportions were all wrong and unless the girl was trying for impressionism, Brenda knew she should give up the attempt altogether. But at that moment Brenda wasn’t in the mood to critique. If she did, she knew her words would be harsh. “You must have an art instructor. Why ask me?” Brenda said politely closing the pad, then pushing it back in the direction of the woman.
“Because I admire you.”
“Really?” she said surprised and somewhat pleased.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because you were married to Dominic Ayers.”
Chapter 2
Brenda wanted to wring the woman’s neck as she became more animated. “I just saw him on the Nature channel yesterday and about died. He’s gorgeous. You are so lucky.”
“You mean were. We’re divorced.”
The woman looked at Brenda as though she were insane. “I can’t believe you let him go.”
“How did you find out about me?” Brenda asked sharply.
“The Internet of course,” the woman said, as though the answer were obvious.
Brenda silently swore. She’d fallen for the ploy.
The young woman wasn’t interested in her opinion of her artwork; she just wanted to use them to get close to her, hoping to score with her ex.
“Well, you can be lucky too. He’s still single and likes ladies of all ages.” Brenda buttoned the top of her coat and began walking, eager to escape the chilly, damp air and rain-soaked sidewalk.
The woman walked beside her. “What is he like? I mean, I know he’s gorgeous but he also comes across a little dangerous and wild. Is he?”
Brenda flashed a malicious smile. “He’s even more so in person.”
“Wow.” The woman held her sketchbook close to her chest and closed her eyes.
Brenda rolled her own, then glanced at her watch. “Excuse me.” She tucked her leather briefcase under her arm, opened her umbrella, deliberately pointing it in the woman’s direction, forcing her to take several steps backward, and hurried across the street fuming. Every time she thought Dominic was out of her life he would barge back in. Why did he have to be so famous?
How could she have known a simple biology graduate would become a respected filmmaker, produce award-winning documentaries, write bestselling books, start two travel companies for the layperson interested in scientific excursions and host an internationally known television series? How could she have known that the man she’d fallen in love with would continue to bury her in the shadow of his acclaim?
She couldn’t escape him. She’d always be his ex, something she couldn’t ignore or brush aside, no matter how tired she was of people using her to try to get close to him. Unfortunately, it was nothing new. It had been the same during their marriage. If only he’d just remarry and get the scent off of her. But that wasn’t her problem right now. Right now she needed a strong drink.
Moments later Brenda sat in Sam’s Coffee House, staring down into her second cup of coffee. She liked it black and strong. Nothing fancy. Unfortunately, the coffee hadn’t helped her come up with any new ideas. She had six people, including herself, depending on the funding she urgently needed. She’d thought of everything: finding angel investors—she’d already borrowed from close family and friends, venture capitalists, seeking new grantees, or getting a bank loan. Because she wasn’t a well-known preeminent biologist, Brenda knew that none of the sources she thought of would work. This award had been her last option. How was she going to come up with 1.5 million dollars in four months, without robbing a bank?
“Dr. Everton,” a bright voice said.
Brenda stifled a moan. Wouldn’t anyone leave her alone? She glanced up and saw Sonya Ling, one of her researchers. For a moment she didn’t recognize her out of her lab coat. “Hi.”
Sonya sat in the booth unaware that Brenda did not want any company. She was an attractive woman in her mid-twenties and extremely gifted, which is why she was on Brenda’s project. Her black hair, which sported streaks of red highlights, framed her petite features.
“I have fabulous news. Bobby, I mean Robert, and I just bought a condo and we’ve set the date for our wedding. It’s going to be in August. You’ll get an invitation soon.”
Brenda gathered up the energy to look cheerful. “That’s fantastic.” She was happy for them. Robert also worked on the project.
“I’m telling you now so that you’ll make sure your schedule is free so you can come. You have to be there.”
“Of course I’ll come.” Brenda took a sip of her coffee, then opened her briefcase hoping to give the impression that she was busy and encourage Sonya to leave.
Sonya stayed. “Oh good. My mother can’t wait to meet you. You’re the reason Robert and I can get married. After I was removed from
Dr. Franklin’s project I only had a few options until you hired me and I wouldn’t have met Robert either. I love working on this research. I don’t know what I would have done if I hadn’t found this job. You’re a saint.”
Right now Brenda felt like the devil. She brushed away the praise. “You were highly qualified. I wasn’t doing you any favors.”
“Yes, you were. I know that there were two other candidates, who were better qualified, ahead of me. We’re all grateful to you. I don’t think we tell you that enough but we are and we’re thrilled with the progress we’re making. It’s all so exciting.”
“I wouldn’t expect less.”
Sonya jumped up. “Can I give you a hug? I’m just so happy I need to hug you.”
Brenda hesitated, then nodded. “Sure.”
Sonya rushed over and hugged her. Brenda remained seated and politely patted her on the back. As Sonya pulled away Brenda could see that she was blinking back tears.
“Please don’t tell me you’re pregnant too.”
“No, I’m not. I’m just really happy.” She returned to her seat. “You can bring a date to the wedding if you want.”
“I’ll probably come alone.”
Sonya shrugged and pulled out a little black book from her purse. “Don’t you like men?”
“Of course I like men,” Brenda said, wondering why she was having this ridiculous conversation with a researcher.
Sonya scribbled something down in her book.
“What are you doing?”
Sonya hid the book on her lap and continued to write. “Just taking down some notes.” She looked up at Brenda and grinned. “There are so many things one has to remember when you’re getting married.” She lowered her gaze and started writing again. “You were married before, right?”
“Yes.”
“Ever thought of getting married again?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because my marriage was a disaster and I’d prefer not to talk about it,” Brenda said when Sonya opened her mouth.
Sonya nodded and put her little book away. “I understand.”
Brenda wondered how she could delicately tell Sonya to Go away. She opened her mouth to do so when Sonya suddenly gasped. She stared at the Weekly Science Journal, which was lying on the seat next to her. She picked it up and began reading. Without any warning, she tapped it, making the paper look as though it were ready to fly. “Can you believe this?”
Brenda silently prayed that it wasn’t more bad news. “Believe what?”
“Haven’t you read the paper?”
“No, not yet. I was just sitting here hoping for some time by myself and—”
“It says Dr. Franklin won the National Science Research Grant.”
Brenda felt her body go cold. “I see.”
“He’s getting millions for his project. Millions. Are you okay? You look a little ill.”
“I’m fine.”
“I wouldn’t blame you if you were. The thought of that jerk getting all that money makes me ill too. Oh no, there he is.”
Brenda glanced over her shoulder. Yes, there he was—tall, proud and handsome, standing at the counter, likely ordering an espresso. He always ordered one with an almond biscotti. He was a creature of habit and one creature Brenda liked to compare to a parasite. He knew whom to latch on to, based on what he needed, and would suck them dry until he found another host. She’d been one of them. His methods had worked and now he was a world-renowned scientist.
Sonya’s cell phone buzzed. She checked the number, then jumped up. “Better go. Bye.”
Brenda waved and watched her leave. She looked over at Franklin again, desperately wishing she had a cigarette so she could smoke her brains out. What was the use of staying healthy when your life was going into the toilet?
She’d better leave. Brenda gathered her things and headed for the exit. Unfortunately, she reached the door the same time Franklin did. He gallantly held it open.
“Thank you,” she said, only because she had to. The rain had stopped but drops still fell from the awning. Three large ones splashed her coat.
He smiled, a smile that used to make her knees weak, but now only made her stomach turn. “You’re welcome,” he said. “Glad the rain stopped.”
Oh damn, he wanted to talk. “Yes.” She stared at him. They were the same height, which she loved because he tended to look down on others both figuratively and literally and never had that chance with her.
“I just bought two biscotti.” That was being dangerously extravagant for him. He liked to keep his body fit and rarely allowed himself to indulge.
She maintained her bold stare. “Great.”
“I’m celebrating.”
“Uh-huh.” She knew he wanted to be congratulated, but she would make him work for it.
“You must not have heard. I won the National Science Research Grant.”
“Yes, I heard,” she said, sounding bored.
Some of his bravado crumbled as did his smile. “I was chosen out of a total of sixteen hundred applicants. The competition was extremely stiff. Only ten grants were awarded.”
“Quite an accomplishment.”
His smile returned. That was all the credit his ego needed. “Yes.”
Brenda moved past him.
He blocked her. “You know I have to staff this project. Most of the positions are filled, but I could always find a place for you.”
She sent him a flat, cold look. “I have a career.”
He sniffed. “You have a job supervising that motley crew of rejects for a research project that will likely never be completed.”
“They are not—”
“I know you, Brenda. You try to be like the rest of us, but you’re not. Everyone knows Dr. ‘Loony’ Lawson is one day away from a nervous breakdown. And that Ling girl bounces all over the place as though she were about to burst into a cheer.”
“She used to be a cheerleader.”
“She should have stayed one. She doesn’t have what it takes to be a scientist.”
Brenda resisted the urge to reply.
He shook his head. “Your researchers are the ones I fired. Not because I’m a bad guy, but because I wanted the best.”
Brenda raised her brows and said in a mocking tone, “Even though they were the individuals who helped you get your initial phase one funding?”
“You don’t get to the top carrying dead weight. You should have stayed with me. I could have taught you a few things.”
“You taught me a lot of things. I’m through learning your lessons and I have no regrets.”
“You’ll have some soon enough as the years go by and you realize you’re in the same place. Think about it.” He turned up his coat collar and left.
Brenda watched his confident stride as he approached his expensive, but not flashy, car. She hadn’t stood a chance as an undergraduate. She’d fallen for him hard and had thought the world of him until he plagiarized two of her papers. She never let him know that she’d discovered the theft.
At the time of the discovery she realized it was too big a fight for her to win. His career was flourishing and his name was becoming known in the industry. He knew powerful people. She was merely a college junior and knew they would have sided with him. But one day she’d prove him wrong. An unethical parasite couldn’t flourish forever and one day he’d be without a host and his career would shrivel up and die.
Brenda went home and popped a TV dinner in the microwave, glad that her craving for a cigarette had diminished. She quickly ate, then decided to take a nice hot shower. The day had been stressful and she still didn’t know what she was going to do. Other than Sam’s Coffee House, the shower was another place where she was able to think clearly.
Brenda stripped down, stepped in the shower, then turned on the hot water. A gush of freezing cold water rushed out, hitting her skin like tiny shards of ice. Her body trembled as she waited for it to warm up. It didn’t. She quickly sh
ut off the faucet and swore as she grabbed her robe off a side hook. She stomped down into the basement, water dripping everywhere, and checked her water heater. The sight of it confirmed her worse fears—it was broken.
Brenda kicked it with her bare foot, stubbing her big toe. She hopped around swearing, then gingerly set her foot down. Yes, she definitely deserved a cigarette now. She went back upstairs, changed into a pair of black pants and a white T-shirt, threw on her raincoat and drove to the local mini market. She approached the counter. “I want some cigarettes.” She held up a hand. “Don’t say anything, just give me those.” She pointed to the brand she liked.
Mr. Hopkins nodded. He wasn’t old, but moved as quickly as a sloth. Brenda gripped her hands into fists, resisting the urge to tell him to hurry up. To divert her attention she looked at the small TV he had mounted on a shelf. An anchorwoman came on the screen, “And Dominic Ayers is donating nearly half a million dollars to the Alaskan Wildlife Foundation. We had a chance to speak with him…”
Brenda turned away so she didn’t have to see her ex and began humming to block out his voice.
Mr. Hopkins placed the carton in front of her and rang up the price. “That Dr. Ayers may look intimidating, but he is a good man.”
Brenda handed him the money.
“Always helping people and doing good things.”
Brenda held out her hand for the change.
Mr. Hopkins continued to count each coin. “I remember when he first came on TV. My daughters didn’t care much about science until his show. You know the one, The Science Is Fun program that was featured on Saturday mornings. My kids learned a lot. Now they’re getting straight A’s in science.”
He finished putting the last penny in her hand. Brenda thanked him, took the change and left. She drove home knowing exactly what she would do—sit on her patio and smoke. Although her cigarettes called to her while she was driving, she resisted lighting up because she didn’t want to smell up her car. The lingering odor of cigarette smoke was one of the reasons why she’d stopped.
