by Langdon, L.
“It is. In fact, it’s pretty bitchin’.” Gerri was actually a bit uncomfortable with that word—it seemed vulgar to her—but she wasn’t about to lose another round of the slang game.
Mindy laughed. “By the way, he asked me to tell you that he’s out with a hunting party. He’ll call you Wednesday when he gets back.”
The howl of the wind took on an ominous tone. Gerri stopped in her tracks. “He’s out in this weather?”
Mindy shrugged. “He didn’t seem worried.”
Gerri shivered. The infamous storm of last summer—the one during which she fell overboard—didn’t have winds nearly as bad as this. She really didn’t want to think about Sven out in this weather. She struggled for a change of subject. “Are you two getting along?”
They had reached the car and loaded Gerri’s baggage. Mindy delayed answering until they were both inside. “I guess. We haven’t had any sharp words. I haven’t completely gotten used to the idea of just chatting with him, but I’m working on it.”
She seemed uncomfortable, so Gerri searched for a change of subject. “You’ve had me dying of curiosity. Remember, you were going to tell me about your crappy love life.”
Mindy winced and concentrated on the road. Gerri could feel the Taku wind trying to push the car around. “You’re going to think I’m an idiot—or worse. I’ll tell you when we get back to the house.”
After Gerri had unpacked and eaten, they sat down in Mindy’s living room. “OK, spill. Why am I going to think that you’re an idiot?”
“Because I’m interested in someone who’s not capable of being interested in me. And because I should have known it before I ever got interested.”
Gerri looked at her, puzzled. Before she could speak, Mindy asked, “OK. Who do you think is the best catch around here?”
“I haven’t really met that many people…”
“You’ve met him.” As Gerri started to answer, she added, “And, no, I don’t mean Sven.”
Gerri’s face got hot. Am I that transparent? Then the answer became obvious, even though it was unexpected. “Dr. Wheeler?”
Mindy nodded, and then looked at Gerri almost challengingly. “It’s not because I want to experiment or because black men are supposed to be exotic. And it certainly isn’t some notion about their alleged sexual prowess.” She rolled her eyes. “He’s just a smart, dedicated man. And when we’re not fighting, I really enjoy talking to him.” She flashed a brief grin. “Actually, I enjoy talking to him even when we are fighting. We’ve each got a mouth, but neither of us holds a grudge.” Having spoken her piece, she leaned back and watched Gerri think.
“And he’s not interested in you?” That sounded uncomfortably like Sven’s feelings for Gerri—friendly, when friendly wasn’t enough.
Mindy considered the question. “I don’t know. Sometimes I think he is interested, but that may just be wishful thinking.” Gerri cocked her head in inquiry, and Mindy was all too interested in elaborating. “He’s very kind, very solicitous. And sometimes—I don’t know—he’ll be looking at me. But other times he can be distant.” She laughed apologetically. “I’m a mess, aren’t I?”
“No, you aren’t. It’s hard to tell sometimes. I know the feeling.” Again, Gerri was reminded of her uncertainties about Sven—at least before he told her he wasn’t interested. But she moved on quickly, lest the conversation veer toward her own lovesickness—if one more person told her that Sven really did care for her romantically, she would scream.
Gerri flashed a grin. “So we need to figure out what’s in his head.”
“Always a challenge with a man,” Mindy said sardonically.
Gerri stared at her thoughtfully. “And you can’t be the one to ask him. That’s tacky—too forward.” Mindy nodded vigorously. “So it’s up to me as your friend to ask him.”
Mindy grimaced. “He’ll still know that you’re asking on my behalf.”
“Not if we’re sneaky. Let me think.” Gerri smiled in reminiscence. This took her back. Not to college. Those girls didn’t need artifice—they were perfectly comfortable offering themselves up. If the particular target wasn’t interested in some free sex—most were, of course—the girl would move on to the next. No, this took her back to high school.
“How does this sound?” Gerri asked after a moment’s thought. “Invite him to dinner one night soon. Tell him it’s to welcome me back. He wrote one of the letters to me, after all, so that’s plausible.”
“I can do that, and I think he’ll accept. But…”
Gerri held up her finger for attention. “After the dinner, I want you to do two things…”
Chapter 35
Monday morning was much warmer and less windy, as promised. It’s actually above freezing, Gerri thought. That made her laugh: how ridiculous that would sound in South Carolina. She made a mental note to mention it in a letter to home. The meeting with the principal was early in the morning so that it would be finished before classes started. Between thinking about the meeting and the classes which would follow, Gerri was a nervous wreck.
The meeting turned out to be one of the strangest that she had experienced. Initially, it was routine: an introduction and a few more papers to sign. Then it veered off. Mr. Cunningham cleared his throat nervously.
“That’s a very, umm, unusual hairdo you have, Miss Barton. Aren’t those used to signify some sort of, umm, radical politics?”
Gerri cringed inside. Was this to be a repeat of her experience in South Carolina, albeit more subtle? She answered cautiously. “That’s a complicated question. They can be. But not in my case. I’ve worn my hair straightened for most of my life, but here, in this wet climate, this hairdo is simply much easier to care for.”
Mr. Cunningham shifted uncomfortably. “Well, proper hair care certainly takes effort…”
Mrs. Kallek interrupted with an apparent non sequitur. “Herbert, as you know, I’m Jewish, so…”
“Yes, and that’s perfectly…”
“I wasn’t asking for permission.” She flashed a brief smile to take the bite out of her statement. “I think I have some insight as to what Gerri goes through. Many of us, including me, have kinky, curly, frizzy hair. And many of us go to a lot of trouble to straighten and generally manage it.
“Years ago, I spent a significant amount of time doing this. You probably don’t remember, Herbert—you would have no reason to pay attention to such things—but when you were in my classes, my hair conformed much more to the prevailing fashions. One day my late husband, bless his soul, asked me why I went to all of that trouble. Knowing that he supported me gave me the courage to stop trying to meet some arbitrary fashion standard.
“I’m certainly not an expert on black people,” She cast an apologetic glance at Gerri. “But I would bet that Gerri would have to go to even more trouble than I did to keep a straight, so-called stylish hairdo.”
Gerri nodded emphatically and murmured, “That’s true. It’s a lot of trouble. Especially in wet weather” Gerri didn’t know whether to be more surprised that Mrs. Kallek butted in on her behalf or the fact that she used to teach Mr. Cunningham. It made sense, though, and probably explained the interesting dynamic: she called her boss Herbert and he called her Mrs. Kallek.
“If I may add two cents worth,” Mindy said diffidently, “I definitely agree with Mrs. Kallek. My hair—long and straight—happens to coincide with the styles of the 1960’s, but if I had grown up in the 50’s as my sister did, I would have been spending a lot of time wearing curlers. So I applaud Gerri for having the independence to choose a practical style for her. And,” She looked at Gerri and smiled impishly, “I’ll bet she’s found that a lot of guys think it’s exotic and cute.”
Gerri lowered her head and shrugged, thankful once again that her blushes weren’t visible. Sven likes it…or he did like it, she thought.
___
As Gerri and Mrs. Kallek walked to her—and now Gerri’s—classroom, Gerri tried to put her bemusement into wo
rds. “I certainly didn’t expect the meeting to be like that.”
Mrs. Kallek made a dismissive noise. “Hair styling as a prerequisite for a teaching job! It’s almost enough to make me a Women’s Libber.”
“Almost?” Gerri grinned.
“Well…” Mrs. Kallek walked in silence for a few seconds. “Parts of it. I don’t quite understand why everybody wants to be called ‘Ms.;’ I’m happy to be called Mrs. myself. Of course, the people who worry about a woman’s marital status don’t seem to think it’s significant to know a man’s marital status.” She shrugged. Then, she gestured Gerri into a room.
Gerri scanned the room eagerly. This was to be her professional home. She decided that she liked it. It wasn’t fancy, but it was laid out neatly. The large windows showed promise of a nice view when the sun came up. That was one thing she’d have to get used to—now, during the short days of winter, she’d be starting her first class of the day while it was still dark.
After Mrs. Kallek had shown her where the supplies were stored, she had one final caution to impart. “After I introduce you, I’ll sit quietly in the back. I don’t want them deferring to me. The only time I’ll speak up is if somebody is disrespectful because you’re black. I don’t expect that—I think these kids are too polite for that. But if it does happen, we should take them straightaway to Mr. Cunningham.” She must have seen Gerri’s apprehensive look, because she quickly added. “He won’t stand for that either—in spite of that nonsense about your hair. He assured me of that before we sent the letter.”
To Gerri’s relief, no visits to Mr. Cunningham were necessary. The students were generally polite. In fact, they seemed to have a fascination with her. She didn’t like the idea of being considered exotic, but as long as they worked with her in class, she could live with it.
Time was a blur. She was concentrating on learning her students’ names, what they knew, and how they learned. After the first day, Mrs. Kallek came for only some of the classes. She sat in back and watched. Afterwards she and Gerri talked about what had worked and what hadn’t. Gerri loved this—it was like a combination of a graduate seminar in teaching and a really fruitful collaboration. Of course, Gerri was also putting in long hours on preparation every evening—that was her responsibility and hers alone.
Wednesday evening, true to his promise, Sven called her. “I’m back in town for a couple of days. I was hoping that we could get together.”
Gerri hesitated. She wanted to see him, too, but she wondered whether that was a good idea. He would be a profound distraction to her—doubtless much more than he could imagine. “I don’t really have time tonight. I’m spending all of my evenings preparing for my next day’s classes.”
Sven felt the distance in her voice. He tried again. “Remember, I have that picture of you under the glacier that you asked me to carry back with me. I’d like to give that to you.”
“I remember.” She loved the picture, but her expression in it was too revealing. “It might be better for you to hang on to it for a while. What would Mindy think if I suddenly acquired a Hush picture?”
Sven made a face. He couldn’t argue with that—just one more way in which he hadn’t thought it through when he decided to give Gerri that picture. Still, her objection sounded more like an excuse for not seeing him. Already, she was slipping away from him. He suppressed a sigh. “All right. How about Friday? You won’t have classes the next day. And I’m going out again early Saturday morning with another hunting party.”
Gerri was tempted. Could Sven join them for dinner? No. I wouldn’t be able to concentrate on getting information from Dr. Wheeler if Sven was there. And who knows how he would get along with Mindy? After a hesitation, she declined. “Friday won’t work. We’re having Dr. Wheeler over for dinner.”
That made Sven uneasy, reminding him about his fears that Gerri would be more interested in the doctor than in him. Cautiously, with forced casualness, he asked, “What’s the occasion?”
Gerri parroted their cover story—she wasn’t about to betray Mindy’s confidence. “I guess it’s sort of a welcoming dinner for me,” she said vaguely.
Sven winced. That really hurt. He told himself that he had no right to be upset, but it still hurt. He beat a strategic retreat. “OK. I should be back next Tuesday. I’ll try to call you then.”
Gerri hung up, feeling depressed. She missed Sven. But this was for the best—maybe if she stayed away from him for a while, she’d get used to it. She didn’t want to do something stupid and throw herself at him. And then there was the promise to her mother. Gerri had always kept her promises in the past, and she had no intention of breaking this one.
___
Gerri enjoyed the dinner Friday night, on several levels. She and Mindy had outdone themselves in the kitchen and it showed. The conversation flowed easily. After exchanging ‘how did I end up here’ testimonials with Dr. Wheeler (John, as he insisted that she call him), Gerri fell silent while the other two talked. And argued. And laughed.
Their verbal chemistry was obvious. But she watched him surreptitiously as the dinner wore on. His eyes followed Mindy constantly—he always seemed to be aware of where she was. Gerri hid a smile—it looked to her like there was hope for the two of them.
After dinner, as Gerri had planned, Mindy brought out a picture of her sister, Laura. Gerri had seen it before and knew that Laura was glamorous. In fact, she had to concentrate on the business at hand, lest she start dwelling on how hopeless it was for her to think of competing for Sven with Laura’s memory.
Their plan was for Gerri to act as though she was seeing it for the first time. She gushed to Mindy and John about Laura’s beauty. John seemed more reserved. As per the second part of their plan, Mindy left the picture with the two of them and excused herself to the kitchen.
When they were alone, Gerri turned to John. This was the moment that would make or break her plan. She began baiting him. “What do you think, John? Don’t you think her sister is beautiful?”
John shrugged with an annoyed look on his face. “Yeah, she’s good looking, I guess.”
“I know it’s tough for Mindy. Having a sister like that, she always feels like she’s in her shadow.”
John made a disgusted noise. “That’s silly.” Gerri gave him a calculatedly blank look. He looked at her exasperatedly and elaborated. “It’s all fine and good for a girl to be modest…”
“Girl?” Gerri wondered if she was going too far, but Mindy had mentioned that John had an age hang-up.
Again, he looked annoyed. “Woman. You know what I mean. He took a breath and Gerri could see him deciding whether to shut up. Fortunately for her, he was too irritated to exercise discretion. “OK. Put it in terms of movie actresses. This,” he gestured at the picture, “This is Jayne Mansfield. Fine. A lot of people like her.” He shrugged to suggest that he was not among them. He then lowered his voice and waved his hand toward the kitchen. “But out there…out there is goddamn Grace Kelly. How on earth could Grace Kelly feel eclipsed by Jayne Mansfield?”
“I think Mindy’s very attractive, too,” Gerri murmured. She’d gotten most of what she wanted, but not everything. Still, she didn’t want to overplay her hand. She leaned back in her chair casually. “You know, you two have a lot in common. Why don’t you ask her out?”
John looked startled—and then he hesitated. “She’s a lot younger than I am,” he finally said.
Gerri shrugged with exaggerated casualness. “Seeing the two of you talking, it doesn’t seem as though age is a problem. Besides, time tends to blur that sort of distinction.”
Now he looked suspicious. “You know what they say about black men chasing white women. In fact, I’m surprised that you didn’t think of that yourself.”
“I admit that I don’t know you well, but I didn’t think of it that way. I just see two people who really seem to enjoy each other.”
“You may not see it that way, but other people will.” His fist clenched in his lap. “I re
fuse to be a stereotype.”
“Hmmm.” Gerri let the silence grow. “You might consider that when you try so hard not to be a stereotype, you’re still letting other people control what you do.” She had gone as far as she dared, Gerri decided, and was about to change the subject when she saw that he was lost in thought.
He affected a casual smile and a shrug. “It’s all moot. She probably wouldn’t be interested in an old guy like me.”
Gerri wanted to shake him and say, Yes she would! Yes she would! But of course she couldn’t. She shrugged—John wasn’t the only one who could fake casualness—and said, “There are no guarantees, but I didn’t get the impression that the chemistry went in only one direction.” Then she made a great show of looking toward the kitchen. “Maybe we should see what she’s up to. I don’t want her to think that I deserted her.”
___
John was barely out the door when Mindy turned to Gerri expectantly. “Well?”
“He definitely likes you. And he definitely finds you attractive. Very attractive. In fact, he compared you to Grace Kelly.”
Mindy blushed to the roots of her hair. “Oooh…” But she abruptly returned to the practical. “So why doesn’t he say anything?”
“I think he’s concerned about how other people would react.”
Now Mindy flashed to instant anger. “The race thing? Who cares what the racists say?”
“Well, it’s a little more complicated than that.” Gerri paused. She really didn’t want to have this conversation. She realized at that moment that she had never previously in her life had the occasion to try to explain black people’s foibles to a white person. But if Mindy was her friend, it would be cowardly to avoid doing it. To buy some time, she sat down and clasped her hands in her lap. Mindy sat opposite her with a worried look on her face. Gerri found Mindy’s anxiety distracting, so she stared at her hands as she spoke.
