Human Hieroglyphix - Dex & Leila (28 page)

Along with everything we were learning about each other, Dex and I were still working through our time apart, that gut-wrenching month when we both walked around with a hole in our chests and tried to maintain a real life.

Which everybody that has gone through something similar knows is the
hardest
thing to do.

I would catch him occasionally looking at me, when he thought I wasn't aware.  Or how he sometime clung to me in the middle of the night, when he thought I was asleep.

For me, I have developed a habit of touching him, a soft stroke across his shoulders as he bends over his light-box designing more flash, reaching for his hand when we're just sitting quietly together watching TV or driving somewhere.  Resting my face against his chest after wiggling beneath his arm.

I hadn't ever really been a touchy-feely kind of person before, but I found, with him, I was.

And my Dex was just as touchy-feely right back.

Chapter Twenty Six

We were now in the scholastic homestretch with only a few days more before the school year ended.  It occurred to me this year, just like with every year before, the ending involved a lot more stuff to do, to wrap up than when it started

My office was partly packed in banker's boxes, marked, labeled with the papers inside and the year they were done, where I knew they would languish in the attic space in my garage.  I'd never opened a box containing the scholastic achievements or embarrassments of any of the previous years and, just like every year before, I'd try to talk myself into getting rid of some of the previous years' detritus.

But, I never did.

The end of the year also brought the ratings and reports that had to be written on those below you, like Carla, my T.A., or on you by your department head who held the reins of your career in their hands and called it tenure.

To cut or be cut by the guillotine of another's opinions, kindly wrapped up in words that really have no meaning when you break them down, but help to cover a host of complaints that covered the very bedrock of reasons that one can think but never say.  Things like, 'I don't like you' or 'you're so good you are a threat to my job' or even, 'I like someone better so you need to leave and they can come on board'.

I had an appointment with Carla to review her performance as my Teaching Assistant for the last academic year.  If you would've asked me to give an assessment in February, it would've been a lot different than the one she was getting from me now.

"Hello, Dr McCarthy," I heard her say in the open doorway of my office.

"Hey, Carla.  Please come in and close the door, alright?"  I shifted the box I had been filling from my desktop to the floor.  I pulled both the original and the copy of her assessment from my center drawer and slid her copy across my desk as I sat down.

"Do you want to read it through before we discuss it?" I asked.  I wasn't nervous but it must be said that I had never gotten 'real' on an evaluation before and I was hoping we both would walk out of the office unscathed.

I watched her nod before she tipped her head down to read.

At her first gasp I knew she had gotten to, 'seems not to be interested in student's absorption of necessary knowledge but more intent on hearing the sound of her own voice'.

I watched as she read, her face losing all color for a time and then flushing a deep, dark red.

Her jaw clenched so I was figuring she was reading that, 'Carla's demonstrated lack of social boundaries with the professor she was to have been supporting make her imminently unsuitable for the job of T.A.'

It was the last portion, the portion that said that I, 'encouraged her to find another field of endeavor where her skills and personality may be put to use.' that had her absolutely livid.

"This isn't true," Carla yelled her chest heaving, her face almost purple.

"Which part?" I asked calmly.

"All of it."

"All of it?  I gave examples, Carla, detailed examples including the name of the class, the date and the time.  So which part are you refuting?"

"You…you.," She stuttered.

I waited.

"You think you're so hot with your new clothes and everything," she sneered.

"What does that have to do with your assessment, Carla?"

"You're just jealous," she yelled.

"I am?  Of what exactly?"

"I was with him before," she went on, really working herself up.

"With whom?"

"That tattoo guy, the one you've been seeing."

"Really?  And when did you two hook up?"

"Before you got with him!"

"And that would've been when?"

She glared at me, nostrils flared.

"Okay, let's just put the timing aside.  But, his name, Carla, do you have a name or in the time that you allegedly 'hooked up' what did you call him?"

Again, I got Carla's version of the death glare.

"Let me see if I have this right.  You are refuting everything on the assessment of your time as my Teaching Assistant this year because one, I think I'm hot due to some new clothes and two, because I'm jealous because you hooked up with 'the tattoo guy' but can't give me his name or the time you were seeing him.  Am I correct?"

She stood up so fast that my visitor's chair, the old fashioned, heavy kind made entirely of wood, teetered on its legs at her sudden movement.

"You either rewrite that," she said, her eyes narrowed and her fists tight, "or you'll be sorry."

"Think I'm going to have to go with door number two, because I won't be rewriting your assessment, Carla, and I will be submitting it to the Dean without your signature, if that's how you want it to go."

"Then I'll tell them that you never showed it to me, that you were trying to get back at me."  Wow, for a little thing, Carla could really project hateful in a
big
way.

I pointed my finger to the upper corner of my office.  "Smile, you're on Collegiate Camera."

I don't think I'd ever heard my door close quite so loudly before as it did when Carla left.

I sighed. 

I know that I was more than a bit flippant when I should have made an effort for her to understand that she really wasn't suited for the field of education, especially when I myself was ready to call it a day and find some other line of work.

I decided to stop packing and make my way to Dex's.  Our lives were spent shuttling between our two houses and we had two sets of toiletries plus extra clothes at each other's place so we weren't schlepping stuff from one house to the other.

We had even gotten really daring by giving each other a key to make a small portion of our lives a little easier.

I left Dex a voicemail, letting him know that I was on my way to the grocery store and that he would be manning the grill for tonight's dinner.  We were at that stage in our relationship where neither one of us was diving for our cell every time the other one called. 

I was calling it progress.

I had stowed the groceries and taken a shower, popping on an easy sun dress with its own shelf bra and leaving my hair to air-dry before I started on the au gratin potatoes and fresh peas that were going to accompany the chops. 

I glanced at my cell to see if Dex had called while I was in the shower but there weren't any missed calls.  Hopefully, he was just finishing up and would be home soon. 

I was hungry -- for both my man
and
food.

The doorbell rang and I could feel my head tilt.  I wasn't even aware that Dex had a doorbell and I couldn't think of who it might be since all our friends tended to call in advance, letting us know they were coming by.

I grabbed a dish towel and made my way to the door.

"Hi, can I help you?" I said through the screen.  The woman on the other side was attractive but had seen better days even though she was trying to work the green halter top and short, denim shorts paired with scuffed cowboy boots.

She took a drag off her cigarette and blew the smoke directly at me.

"Dex here?" she questioned with a chin lift.

"Sorry, no, he's still at the shop.  You can probably reach him there…" I began but stopped as she opened the screen door like it was something she had done a thousand times before and stepped into the house.

"Name's Edie, but he's pro'lly told you about me," she said glancing around the living room.  "Shit, he's a lucky fucker.  I mean,
look
at this place."

I, honest to God, didn't know what to say or how to act. 

Dex had never mentioned anyone by the name of Edie nor had he clued me in that there would be company stopping by.  I was kind of in the dark and didn't know how he would want me to play this. 

So I decided not to play it at all.

"Where's the can?" Edie asked in her deep, gravelly voice.  I pointed the way to the bathroom down the hall and went back to putting together the potatoes and rinsing the peas which I wouldn't start to cook until the chops were almost done.

"Swear to God, had to take a whizz for the last two hours.  Felt like I was emptying two fuckin' bladders instead of just one."  I still didn't speak because, seriously, how do you respond to someone telling you about their latest urination?

Edie sat down at the dining room table and lit another cigarette.  I opened a couple of cupboards trying to find anything she could use as an ashtray.  Finally I just sat a saucer in front of her.  Which got me a wink and a 'thanks, doll'.

"Gimme a beer, honey, please?"

And, still not speaking, I pulled a beer out of the fridge and sat it in front of her before turning back to getting dinner ready.  I saw her take in my wet hair, my sundress and bare feet before I saw her slide a hand over her so blonde it was brittle, shoulder length bob.

After emptying half her beer in one swallow and taking a deep drag off her cigarette, Edie turned to me.

"You his ol' lady?"  I wasn't sure if the reason why I didn't answer right away was because of the 'old lady' part or the part where my status in Dex's life was kind of none of her freaking business.

"He's pretty good, ain't he?  Between the sheets I mean," and she bestowed another wink on me.  "That Dex, he
really
knows how to eat pussy."  And I watched her double tap the ash off her cigarette before downing the second half of her beer, then letting go with a window rattling belch.

"Yeah, that Dex…" she chuckled taking another deep drag and shaking her head.

"So tonight, seein' how I'm a guest an' all, I want his mouth and you can have his cock, 'kay?"

Uh, what?

I brought my head up to look at her.  Surely, she didn't say what I thought I'd heard.

"Or, if that's not your style, let me have him first and you can watch.  Then, when he can, he can do you and I'll watch."

Statues had nothing on me as I stood there frozen, listening to Edie's suggestions on how we were going to
share
Dex. 

Lucky for her, and probably me as well, Dex came in through the utility room.  Actually he came in pretty damn fast, you might even use the expression 'barreling through'.

"Shut the fuck up, Edie!" he yelled.

"Hey, Dex, how they hanging?" Edie greeted him with a smile, not concerned in the least that he was yelling. "Your gal here and me were just talking about how we were going to work tonight's festivities."

Dex was standing next to the dining room table with his legs planted and his arms crossed, brows lowered.  It was a look that Caitlin called the 'he-man' pose or also called 'alpha male stance' since I guess it was something that Jake did a lot.

Dex looked at me and raised an eyebrow in question.

I shot him a deadpanned look in reply.

He glanced at Edie, then back at me with both eyebrows raised, again in question.

I rolled my eyes and shook my head before I saw the smile he was trying to hide but that was escaping a bit around the corners.

"You guys have a secret fuckin' handshake to go along with that special  code you've got goin'?" I heard Edie rumble.

I turned back to the kitchen and let Dex handle this one, confident that he would resolve it to the best of his ability.  It wasn't very long before he came back to the kitchen alone and gave me my long overdue kiss and nose slide before moving to empty the saucer and rinse the beer bottle before placing it in the recycle bin.

"Sorry about that, Elle," he said wrapping his arms around my waist, his chin over my shoulder.  "That was someone I spent time around when I lived in Casper."

"No worries," I said keeping my eye on the cheese sauce I was going to layer with the potatoes.  "And, just for the record, I didn't say word one to her from the time she pushed her way in.  But we were going to be tossing dogs if she thought I was going to share either your mouth
or
your cock."

"It's throw dogs, babe.  Throw, not tossing.  Gotta get it right to keep your street cred, 'kay?"