Memoir in the Making: A May-December Romance (27 page)

Ainsley checked the clock above the mantle, hating that she had to leave soon. But she had a study session, and she couldn’t miss it. If she did, she was likely going to fail the exam, and that wouldn’t help anyone except by keeping her in college a semester or summer longer than she expected.

“Talk to me,” Ainsley begged. “Tell me what’s going on.”

“I don’t know what’s going. Honestly, I don’t. I’ve tried to figure it out, and each time I do, I get nowhere. I don’t know what is happening to me or to us.”

“Is there an us?” Ainsley asked.

Meredith glanced up at her, those pale blue-green eyes boring into her soul. Fear entered Ainsley’s chest, and tears threatened to spill, joining the ones Meredith had already shed. The one question hung in the air. Meredith sighed and pushed away, pacing around the room. Ainsley wished she had thought of it first, movement would help her think. Instead, she remained stationary as she sat on the edge of the couch cushion.

When Meredith spun around, her lips parted, Ainsley held up her hand and shook her head. “Don’t answer that question. Your silence answers it enough.”

She didn’t need to stay there any longer. Ainsley got up and shoved her feet into her boots, grabbing her jacket at the same time. She didn’t care if it wasn’t zipped—she just needed to get out of the house and away from
her
. Meredith spun her around, and Ainsley’s head rapped against the door when Meredith pushed against her.

“Don’t—don’t go just yet. Let’s finish this conversation.”

“If there is no us, then there is no conversation to be had.”

“I just—” Meredith growled and turned around, walking away, her fists clenching. Ainsley watched her break down in front of her. Tears were gone, and anger had replaced any feelings of helplessness and fear.

“Answer me this,” Meredith said. “Are you ashamed of this relationship?”

“No.” Ainsley shook her head and dropped her jacket to the floor, making her point stronger. “What is there to be ashamed of?”

“I’m your professor—doesn’t that bother you at all?”

“Not anymore, and not really ever. It did a little at the beginning—I was worried you would see my interest in you as something else, that you would use it to grade me differently, but I know that’s not the case anymore.”

Meredith nodded. “I would never have done that.”

“I didn’t know you that well then.” Ainsley let out a breath, feeling as though they were making progress and working through the problems at hand. “I know that now, though.”

“Good. Good.” Meredith sat on the arm of the couch and looked to the ground.

Ainsley wanted to walk over and pull her chin up to look her in the eye. She could always read Meredith better when they were looking at each other. But she didn’t. She stayed still, giving Meredith as much space as she needed.

“You haven’t told anyone about us,” Meredith whispered.

Ainsley shook her head. “What?”

“You haven’t told anyone, have you?”

“I told Adam.”

Meredith stood up again, anger lashing through her tone. “Then you’re ashamed.”

“I’m not. You’re the one who said not to tell anyone, but I told him. I had to tell someone, and he was safe. He won’t talk. I haven’t told anyone because I needed to see where this was going before I announced to the world I’m sleeping with my memoir prof!”

“That’s it! Right there. See? You are ashamed.”

“I’m not ashamed!” Ainsley yelled back, her voice raising to levels it hadn’t since she was a teenager. “I’m not ashamed, I promise you that. I just haven’t had the opportunity to tell anyone. I was planning on telling my mom when I go home. I want her to know, and I want her to be just as supportive as she can be about it, but I’m not sure she will be. And frankly, that doesn’t matter, because I want to be honest with her. I want her to know who I am in love with.”

Meredith grimaced, tears slipping down her cheeks yet again. “This is ridiculous,” she said.

“I agree. We’re fighting over nothing.”

“We are not fighting over nothing.”

“Then tell me,” Ainsley said taking a deep breath. “Tell me what we’re fighting over, because I don’t see it. I don’t see what the big problem is.”

“That is the problem. You live in this world where there is love and that’s it, where love answers all questions and in love there are no problems. You live in a fairytale.”

Ainsley felt as though Meredith had hit her over the head with a frying pan. If that was truly what she thought, Meredith was far from really knowing her. Taking a deep and steadying her breath, Ainsley shook her head. “I do not live in a fairytale. If I did, my dad would still be here. If I lived in a fairytale don’t you think this conversation would never have even started?”

“I’m sorry,” Meredith said. “I shouldn’t have—I didn’t mean.”

“Damn straight you didn’t mean. You didn’t think. I don’t live in a world of knights in shining armor or princes on white horses. I gave up that world years ago.”

“You insist on love. You insist that because of love everything will happen and fall into place. That’s not how it works!” Meredith punctuated the last few words. “You might not live in a fairytale, but you do not understand how love works.”

“Then explain it to me. Oh, that’s right. You can’t because you can’t even admit that you love me.”

Ainsley’s voice rang through the room. She took a deep breath and turned around when seconds passed and Meredith said nothing. She grabbed her jacket and threw it over her shoulders, stuffing her arms down her sleeves. She took her mittens and pulled them on while she pulled open the front door.

“Love is complicated,” Meredith whispered.

Ainsley looked at her sharply. “Don’t you think I know that? Doesn’t mean you can’t let it lead you.”

“Not all complications can be untangled.”

“Not all of them have to be,” Ainsley insisted before she left the house, shutting the door behind her. She got into her car and drove a few blocks, making sure to turn down a road she knew where Meredith would never see her if she came after her.

Pulling off her mittens, she gripped the frozen steering wheel and sobbed. Her heart ached and tears broke through the silence of the vehicle, echoing into the cold night sky. She was there as long as she could stand the weather. Stuffing her hands back into her mittens, she drove home in quiet.

She slipped into the house and down the hall to her bedroom, discarding her winter wear as soon as she was inside and had the door shut. Falling onto her bed, Ainsley grabbed her pillow and held it to her chest, tears breaking through the facade she had managed for a few minutes. She let out a breath, wishing the pain and anguish to take over, do its thing, and then leave her alone. But she knew it wasn’t going to happen.

Getting out of her bed, Ainsley went to the bathroom, threw cold water on her face and redressed in her winter jacket. She stuffed her backpack full of the books she would need along with her notebook and pens. She put it over her shoulder, went to the kitchen and grabbed something to eat.

On her way out to her car, she looked at the wrapped banana bread in her hand and threw it into the dumpster, her appetite completely gone. She could only hope that she could make it through her study session and be able to focus on what she needed to in order to pass her exam the next morning. Licking her lips, she got in her car and drove up to the school, ready to put the fight behind her for a few hours. She would be able to wallow in it later.

If Meredith had wanted to push her away even more, she had succeeded. Ainsley had no desire to see her, and no desire to continue their relationship if it was supposed to be a loveless one. Deep in the back of her mind, she knew Meredith wanted her love and returned it. She just couldn’t let herself do it easily. Sighing, Ainsley walked into the library, swiped her ID card and headed for the back study room where her classmates were.

Maybe the Thanksgiving break would be good for both of them. They would each get some time apart to think through everything happening, and perhaps they could have a calmer discussion when Ainsley got back. She still had to tell her mom, though. It was something they had always shared, and while she might be able to hide it in a phone conversation, she wouldn’t be able to hide it in person. Pushing open the door to the study room, Ainsley left her thoughts of Meredith outside and sat down, ready to work.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Her house was eerily silent. Even the jazz on the radio couldn’t keep her company once night settled in. Meredith had made it through Thanksgiving Day, but once the sun had set, the loneliness had sunk in again. She hadn’t talked to Ainsley since Monday, hadn’t seen nor heard from her since their battle of wills.

Meredith sighed and relaxed back on her couch, wishing for once she owned a television to give her the false feeling that there were people in the house. Instead, all she had to accompany her were the sweet sounds of jazz, and even that was getting on her nerves. Standing and going to her digital radio, Meredith changed the station to blues. It matched her mood much better.

She’d eaten a small meal by herself and hadn’t even had enough for leftovers. Her mind turned to Ainsley and the meal she had probably shared with at least her mother and step-father. Licking her lips, she lay back on the couch and stared at the ceiling. She should be grading or writing instead of just lying around doing nothing, but her mood was so dark and dreary, she didn’t even think she could focus on that.

Sam was gone. She didn’t even have him that holiday season. Jeremy’s family had invited him to their home, and even though Jeremy was gone, he’d decided to join them. Meredith had begged him to stay and then begged him to bring her with him.

When her phone rang, she jerked up from the couch, sleep covering her eyes. She must have drifted off when she hadn’t been expecting it. Her phone shrilling rang through the house again, and Meredith got up, searching for it. She found it the third time. It was on the counter in her kitchen, and she’d barely been able to open it up and hit “accept” before the call went to voice mail.

“Hello?” she said, groggily.

“Hi.”

Ainsley’s voice was quiet and warmed Meredith’s heart, even though she should still be angry with her. Meredith didn’t know what to say, her voice caught in her throat and the word she tried to pull out of it turned into a choke and then a cough.

“You okay?” Ainsley asked.

“Yeah. I’m fine,” Meredith said, looking out her window and her doorway. “Just sitting on my couch.”

“Not even Sam?”

“He’s with Jeremy’s family.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Meredith answered, looking down at the book she’d left on the floor hours ago after giving up on reading it. “It’s not your fault.”

“I could have stayed.”

“You needed to see your family. You haven’t seen them in months.”

“That’s true.” Meredith heard the smile in Ainsley’s voice. “We had a good dinner.”

“I’m glad.”

Nerves chipped away at Meredith’s stomach. She had no idea why Ainsley had called. It wasn’t like they were exactly on speaking terms, and every time Meredith had gone to call Ainsley, she had hung up not wanting to interrupt their special meal.

“What are you doing?” Ainsley asked.

Meredith looked around, trying to find something to say. Sleeping on her couch and dreaming of Ainsley didn’t seem like the best thing to confess, but her slow brain from sleep couldn’t come up with anything better, so that’s what she said.

“You were dreaming of me?”

“I was,” Meredith said with a sigh. “And it was a good dream too.”

Ainsley giggled. “I’m sorry I interrupted it. Should I let you be so you can go back to dreaming?”

“No. This is better.”

Meredith blinked her eyes and then rubbed them, pulling the sleep from the corner of her eyes. She didn’t want to explain to Ainsley that just hearing her voice calmed her. She knew what it meant, but she didn’t like it. It meant she was in love, and Sam had been right all along. She was in love with her twenty-one year old student.

“What’d you have for dinner?” Meredith asked, trying to change the subject.

“This and that. The normal fixings. Lots of stuffing, lots of pie.”

“And what are you doing now?”

“Lying in bed, thinking of you. Mom and Nick already went to bed. They get up early in the mornings.”

Nodding at nothing in particular, Meredith closed her eyes and listened only to Ainsley’s voice. She had wondered why Ainsley was thinking about her but didn’t want to voice the question. So many thoughts plagued her that she had a hard time keeping them all separate and knowing when to speak and what to say.

Turning onto her side and pressing her face into the back cushion of the couch, Meredith said the only thing she could think of. “I’m sorry about Monday.”

“Me too,” Ainsley said.

“It wasn’t—I wasn’t in a good place.”

“I’m just confused, I guess.”

“Confused about what?” Meredith asked.

“Where we stand.”

Meredith’s breath stopped in her throat, and she had to force it into her lungs. She put the phone and speaker and closed her eyes, trying to figure out an answer she could give Ainsley that would work to patch things over for just then. They could figure out the rest later when school was done with.

“I am too,” Meredith said. “I don’t know where we stand at all.”

“You’re the one who didn’t want labels.”

“I didn’t. And I regret that a bit.”

Ainsley sighed into the phone, and Meredith knew she was tired.

“Can we talk about something else?” Meredith asked. Her mood wasn’t a good one for having deep and serious discussions or for analyzing her emotions. She needed to do that when Ainsley wasn’t around. She needed to make some decisions, but to do that, she needed to have a clear mind and unaffected heart. She needed to have some time away from Ainsley, time more than two or three days.

“Yeah. What do you want to talk about?”

Meredith didn’t shrug although she wanted to. It wouldn’t do much good since Ainsley couldn’t see her. “I don’t know. I can’t think of anything. Umm…what are you doing the rest of your visit?”