Love Lessons

by Gina Wilkins

  By the fourth mile, he had almost convinced himself to give it up. He didn’t need this frustration in his life. Up until a few months ago, he had been perfectly content with everything just the way it was. He hadn’t worried about classes or homework or studying or trying to impress anyone. He hadn’t felt the need to apologize for his education or his career. He had thought of himself as a young man with his whole life ahead of him, plenty of time to accomplish whatever he eventually decided to do.

  He never should have attended that stupid high school reunion. Nothing had been the same since.

  Finally growing tired, he slowed to a walk to cool down. So now he had a whole list of reasons why he shouldn’t continue to attempt a relationship of any kind with Catherine. But he couldn’t stop thinking about the way he had felt when he’d been so certain she was going to tell him she didn’t want to see him again socially.

  It had made him feel sick. A little panicky. And when she had admitted that she was attracted to him despite their differences, he had been flooded with so much pleasure and relief that it made him uncomfortable just thinking about it now.

  Don’t get hooked, Clancy, he warned himself. Not on this one.

  He had gone twenty-eight years without having his heart broken. He didn’t want to change that now.

  Chapter Ten

  To give him credit, Mike was only five minutes late arriving at Catherine’s apartment Saturday evening. Because she had come to know him well enough by now to have built in an extra fifteen minutes to their travel time, she didn’t mind so much.

  He’d had his hair trimmed, she noted immediately. It was combed so neatly he looked like a kid who had been spiffed up for a school picture.

  He wore a brown sweater with a thin black stripe across the front with khaki slacks and brown moc-style shoes. While he was dressed casually enough for the occasion, she could tell he had given some thought to his clothes. Maybe even purchased something new to wear. She was touched by the care he had taken to make a good impression with her friends.

  “You look very nice,” she told him.

  He smiled and brushed his mouth lightly across hers. “Thanks. So do you.”

  She had worn one of her new outfits—a long tiered skirt patterned in brown, orange and gold with an orange gauze shirt and a brown corduroy jacket that fit snugly and ended at her waist. Paired with her new brown boots, it was an outfit that worked well with Mike’s—casual, but still nice. This was much more “her” than the vampy costume she had worn for Halloween, but still a bit more festive than her usual work clothes.

  Mike settled comfortably into the passenger’s seat of her small car, apparently content with being driven rather than being behind the wheel. She gave him free rein with the radio, and he tuned in the same rock station he had played in his truck. “I like this song,” he said when a new number began.

  “Who sings it?”

  He seemed a little surprised that she didn’t know. “It’s Green Day. ‘Wake Me Up When September Ends.’ It’s been around for a while.”

  “I don’t follow music very closely. The last CD I bought was a compilation of Celtic music.”

  “Yeah? I like Celtic music. There are several really good Celtic groups who play in some of the local clubs.”

  Finally something they agreed on. She even liked the song playing on the radio. They both liked Celtic music and this one song by some group called Green Day. They were obviously a match made in heaven, she thought ironically.

  The Kuppermans had recently moved into a four-bed-room house in a neighborhood just outside of Benton, a little over twenty miles southwest of Catherine’s apartment. Though they had no children as yet, they used two of the extra bedrooms for home offices, and the other for a guest room. They were considering starting a family now that they had established their careers. With Wayne having just turned thirty-five and Karen thirty-two, they were aware that time was becoming an issue.

  Several cars were already parked in the driveway. Catherine parked at the curb by the mailbox.

  “Is there a special occasion for this party?” Mike asked as they walked to the front door.

  “Karen and Wayne just moved into this house at the end of September and they’ve been decorating ever since. Karen said it’s finally ready for their first dinner party.”

  “And this is someone you know from work?”

  “Yes. She and I met at a science conference when we were both second-year grad students. We stayed in contact, then she convinced me to interview here when I was looking for a position two years ago. She introduced me to her longtime friend Julia Montgomery and the three of us have spent a lot of time together since.”

  She rang the doorbell, then smiled encouragingly at Mike. “You’ll like everyone here. They’re all very nice.”

  “I forgot to ask what your friend’s husband does for a living.”

  Catherine answered just as they heard noises from the other side of the door. “He’s a professor of philosophy.”

  She thought she heard Mike groan, but then Karen was in the doorway, greeting them with a bright smile.

  “Catherine!” Karen said as if they hadn’t just seen each other at work the day before. “I’m so glad you could come. And you must be Mike.”

  He gave her one of his high-voltage smiles, making her blush like a teenager. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Karen. Catherine’s been telling me all about you.”

  “Has she? She hasn’t told me near enough about you.”

  “Then maybe you should just ask me what you want to know.”

  “Maybe I will.” Still smiling, she led them through a spacious, stone-floored entryway to a den decorated with moss-green walls, bright white trim and overstuffed upholstered furniture. Built-in bookshelves filled one wall, overflowing with books and stereo equipment. A big-screen TV was installed over the white-brick fireplace, but it was turned off. This was obviously the room where Karen and Wayne spent their relaxation time.

  Five people mingled in the den. Karen turned in the doorway to speak to Catherine. “You know everyone, Catherine. Why don’t you introduce your friend while I check on dinner?”

  A short, pleasantly dumpy man with a shiny balding head, friendly myopic eyes and the smile of a saint approached them with his right hand extended. “Wayne Kupperman,” he said to Mike. “Welcome to our home.”

  “Thank you. I’m Mike Clancy.”

  A more feminine version of Wayne—short, plump and sweet-faced with thin mousy hair pulled into a loose bun—approached them with a tall, thin, shy-looking man in tow. “Catherine, it’s good to see you again.”

  “You, too, Bonnie. Mike, this is Wayne’s sister, Bonnie Diamond and her husband Chris. And this is our friend Julia Montgomery,” she added, nodding toward Julia, who was eyeing Mike warily. “Everyone, this is Mike Clancy.”

  Mike shook hands all around. Julia barely touched his fingertips before moving away from him. Catherine could tell that Mike was a bit startled by Julia’s frostiness. He was more accustomed to women giggling and flirting when he turned on the charm, she reflected wryly. His charisma had certainly worked with Karen, and seemed to now be affecting Bonnie, who was almost fifteen years his senior.

  “Let me get you both a drink,” Wayne offered eagerly, moving to a small wheeled serving cart set against the back wall. “What would you like?”

  Catherine glanced at the wineglass in Julia’s hand. “I’ll have what Julia’s having.”

  “That’s good for me, too,” Mike seconded.

  “How are things at work, Catherine?” Bonnie asked, sipping her own drink.

  “Pretty well. How about you?”

  “Busy as always. Trying to keep up with all the new regulations for over-the-counter cold and allergy medications, and all the new prescription drug plans.”

  “Bonnie’s a pharmacist,” Catherine explained to Mike when Bonnie turned to answer a question from Julia. “Chris is an orthodontist, and Julia’s an attorney.”

/>   “I see.” He took another deep sip of his wine.

  Karen appeared in the doorway a short time later to call everyone in to dinner, and they filed into the dining room, which was decorated in a sunny, Tuscan-themed style. The discussion about drug laws that had begun in the den carried over through the first course of dinner.

  Catherine wondered at one point why Mike was being so unnaturally quiet. She certainly didn’t believe he was shy; she had watched him meet a few new people at Laurie’s party, and he’d been completely at ease with them. She knew he had friends and family members in skilled, white-collar professions, so it couldn’t be that he was feeling self-conscious about his job, could it?

  Was he intimidated tonight because these were her friends and he was anxious to make a good impression? Or was he just bored with a quiet evening of dinner and conversation?

  The conversation turned to the food, which was excellent since Karen took pride in her culinary skills, especially with Middle Eastern dishes. Karen and Wayne had experimented with a strict Kosher diet early in their marriage, she had once confided to Catherine, and while they no longer followed those restrictions, she had become quite a creative cook. Catherine noticed that Mike eyed some of the exotic dishes a bit warily, but he ate enough of everything to be polite.

  Despite Mike’s lack of significant contribution, conversation was lively around the table. Julia, Bonnie and Chris got into a heated debate about rising medical costs and how they were influenced by lawsuits. Karen and Catherine discussed a recently published scientific breakthrough that had drawn national attention to one of their research colleagues. Wayne told an amusing story about an absent-minded professor in the Philosophy Department who had recently lectured an entire class period before realizing he was wearing a pajama top beneath his tweed blazer.

  “I heard about that,” Mike said, looking up from his plate. “One of the guys in my history class has that professor, and he’s been entertaining us with weekly stories about the latest crazy thing Dr. Summers did.”

  Wayne smiled wryly. “Charles could have been used as the model for all those absent-minded professor stereotypes in Hollywood. He just doesn’t seem to live in the same world as the rest of us.”

  “Shouldn’t someone be concerned about his behavior?” Julia asked with a frown. “Maybe he should be evaluated for dementia or some other medical condition.”

  “Charles doesn’t have dementia,” Wayne said with another indulgent smile. “He isn’t even quite fifty yet. And while I know there are rare cases of early-onset Alzheimer’s, that’s not an issue here. I’ve known Charles for almost fifteen years and he’s been just like this the entire time. A delightful man—brilliant and enthusiastic and good-hearted—but innately eccentric.”

  “I’ve met his wife,” Karen volunteered. “The woman is a saint. She adores Charles, but she spends most of her life making sure he’s fully dressed and in the right place at the right time. She raises their two teenagers and handles all the financial and practical business while Charles supports them all with his teaching and publications. He actually made the extended bestseller lists with one of his books a couple of years ago.”

  “In Search of a Hero; Mankind’s Lifelong Quest for Role Models.” Wayne beamed as he quoted the title. “A fascinating and insightful treatise, though I had a few minor points of disagreement with some of his generalizations, especially when it pertained to gender.”

  “Living with someone like that would drive me crazy,” Julia pronounced with a disapproving shake of her head. “I’d have to strangle him, I’m afraid.”

  Knowing Julia, the others just smiled tolerantly. Catherine couldn’t help wondering if Julia would ever be able to live with anyone. As fond as she was of Julia, she was aware that her friend tended to be too critical, especially when it came to men. Julia didn’t just carry emotional baggage from past relationships; she hauled steamer trunks.

  Mike’s contribution to the conversation, minor as it had been, had drawn Wayne’s attention to him now. “So you’re taking classes at the university, Mike?”

  Mike replied so easily that Catherine was probably the only one who noticed that the question made him self-conscious. “Yeah. I work as the maintenance supervisor at the apartment complex where Catherine and I live, which gives me some free time to take some late-afternoon and evening gen ed classes.”

  “What are you taking this semester?”

  “American history and biology.”

  “Who do you have for history?”

  “Dr. Levin.”

  Wayne nodded in approval. “She’s very good. I’ve heard she’s quite popular with the students.”

  “She makes the classes pretty interesting,” Mike agreed. “And she seems to be genuinely interested in the students.”

  “As opposed to the professors who see students as simply an annoying infestation in their academic ivory towers?” Wayne asked wryly.

  “Well, yeah. I’ve met a few like that.”

  “So have I, I’m afraid. Too many universities these days are so narrowly focused on revenues through sports and grants and corporations that they sometimes neglect the very students we were founded to serve. Students become nothing more than faceless, tuition-paying customers rather than integral partners in the dissemination of knowledge. We shuffle them though the system like products on a conveyor belt, and we lose entirely too many in the process because no one takes the time or care to find out what they need.”

  Karen smiled kindly at Mike. “He’s on his soapbox now. This could go on for a while.”

  “Actually, I find it interesting.” Mike addressed the comment equally to Karen and Wayne. “I dropped out of college the first time because no one seemed to care if I stayed after I lost my baseball scholarship.”

  “But wasn’t it your responsibility to make sure you got an education?” Julia challenged him. “Most universities are too large to personally babysit every student.”

  “It was my responsibility, and I hurt no one but myself by dropping out,” Mike agreed evenly. “Still, I might have understood better what I was giving up if anyone had taken the time to act like they cared.”

  “We’re trying to do a better job of connecting with our students. Publicizing our student counseling services,” Wayne said. “I’ve posted the hours and services provided there in my classroom and I mention it at the beginning of every semester and before every big exam. I’ve also tried to make myself available as much as possible to students who are struggling.”

  “Maybe you’ll take one of Wayne’s classes sometime, Mike.”

  “Maybe,” Mike replied to Karen, though Catherine thought he looked doubtful that he would be registering for a philosophy class anytime soon.

  “What’s your major, Mike?” Chris asked, apparently trying to think of something to add to the conversation.

  “I don’t really have a major right now. I’m just getting some of the required stuff out of the way while I consider what I want to do next.”

  “Still trying to decide what you want to be when you grow up?” Julia spoke lightly, as if she were making a joke, but Catherine frowned at her, anyway.

  Mike answered without looking at Julia. “Yeah, something like that.”

  Chris defused the momentary tension with a chuckle. “Join the club. Orthodontia was hardly my dream as a young man. I was thirty—about your age—before I finally settled down and went back to school. I’ve been practicing for fifteen years, but I’ve got another decade or so left in me before retirement.”

  “Actually, Mike’s still a couple of years away from thirty,” Julia murmured. “At least, that’s what Catherine said.”

  “You’re only twenty-eight?” Chris looked a bit startled that Mike was even younger than he had guessed.

  Mike nodded.

  “Well then, you’ve got plenty of time to start a new career. If that’s what you want to do, of course.”

  Shrugging, Mike said, “I certainly don’t intend to do
maintenance work for the rest of my life.”

  Catherine thought a change of subject was in order, for Mike’s sake. “So, Wayne, how do you like your new car?”

  “Oh, it’s a honey,” Wayne answered, instantly diverted. “It gets very good gas mileage, so I don’t feel so bad about driving so far to work every day. And it’s much quieter than my last car.”

  “That’s because your last car was trying to shake itself into a million little pieces,” Karen said dryly. “And us along with it. Is everyone ready for dessert? I made strawberry tarts, and I have fresh coffee for anyone who would like some.”

  Catherine pushed her chair back from the table. “Let me help you, Karen.”

  “I’ll help, too,” Julia said, jumping to her feet and reaching for dirty dishes.

  Catherine had hoped Julia would make that offer.

  Catherine waited only until they were in the kitchen and out of hearing of the dining room before rounding on Julia. “Get off his back, Julia. He’s not one of the cocky jerks you dislike so much, so stop treating him like one.”

  Julia scowled. “I haven’t been doing anything but making conversation with him.”

  “Asking him what he wants to be when he grows up? Please.”

  “Well, you would think he’d have an idea by now, wouldn’t you? By his age, I’d already finished law school. You had a Ph.D. and a postdoctoral position behind you.”

  “And Mike has been working at perfectly respectable construction jobs since he left college the first time. He’s very good at his maintenance job now. He takes pride in his work, and he tries to get to everything as quickly as possible. The on-site manager told me he’s the most competent and responsible person she’s ever hired for the position. He has no reason to be ashamed, and I wish you wouldn’t treat him as if he should be.”

  Julia looked at her in concern. “You’re not getting serious about this kid, are you, Catherine?”