The Lesson (37 page)

“Kevin, please don’t go. You misunderstand.” She tried to keep her voice low because her family was nearby, but she could barely contain her panic.

“I don’t misunderstand. I understand completely. I’m going to say good-bye to your parents now. Thank you for dinner.”

He turned away from her and walked out of the room. She should get up. She should run after him. She should make him stop. But she couldn’t bring herself to get up from the couch. If her eyes met his she’d fall apart with her family there to witness the entire drama from a front row seat. From the kitchen she heard him thank her mother for the dinner, and then she heard murmurings of good-bye from her father in the family room off the kitchen. Too quickly she heard the screen door bang as he walked out the front door and then, in a moment, the miserable sound of the VW beetle whining down Cornell Drive.

Concord Naval Weapons Station

“He didn’t stay for cake and ice cream,” said Mrs. Jacobs. She was wiping her hands on her apron as Gina walked into the kitchen. “He said he had to go. Is anything wrong?”

“No,” said Gina, “Nothing is wrong. Is the cake ready?”

Mrs. Jacobs studied Gina. “Are you sure there’s nothing wrong? It’s odd the way he left. Sort of abrupt-like.”

“Nothing is wrong. Everything is fine.” Gina’s words were controlled and cool, more from shock than lack of emotion. She knew her mother didn’t believe her, but if she started talking now the tears would soon follow. She had to get through the cake and ice cream ceremony without blubbering. She would go home to her quiet apartment and blubber there. “Likely he has lots to do before the ship pulls away. You heard him say he didn't get much notice.”

“Yes,” said Mrs. Jacobs, though her face screwed up with suspicion.

Gina knew her mother didn’t believe this excuse either, but she was determined that no one in her family would pull the real story from her. She pasted on a smile while her family sang Happy Birthday. The cake was expertly baked and her mother had bought her favorite ice cream, chocolate mint, but Gina hardly tasted the treats. For her family’s sake she put on a good show, thanking them heartily for the dinner and the gifts. By late afternoon she was saying her good-byes. She gave an extra big hug to Nina and her baby. She didn’t see them often enough.

“That’s a nice fella you got there,” said Mr. Jacobs as he gave her his trademark bear hug at the door.

Her father was not a man of many words, but Gina picked up on his meaning. She had underestimated her parents: they weren’t going to doom Kevin to live in Michael’s shadow as she feared. Kevin cast a tall shadow of his own. That was small consolation considering the mess she’d made, but it would have to do.

Finally the wrenching evening was over and Gina could go home. As she turned the key in her apartment doorknob, and even before she had fully stepped inside, her eyes were on the answering machine. The sultry red light stared back, unblinking.

“Did you think he’d phone after you called his proposal corny? You are such a jerk.” She spoke
aloud into the emptiness of her apartment. Not a soul around, but she could hear a hundred ghostly voices echoing in her mind.

“Jerk, jerk, jerk,” they mocked.

#

"Something to drink with that patty melt?”

Gina took the beverage order, collected the customer’s menu, and headed for the kitchen to clip the meal order to the wheel. Another hectic Friday afternoon at Big Bick’s. Her six tables were full, so she couldn’t possibly wait on another customer, but that didn’t stop her from glancing repeatedly toward the entrance to the dining room to see if any of her favorites would darken the door. Burk was no longer on her list of favorites and, apparently, he’d dropped her from his list too. He never asked to be seated in her section anymore, but that was just as well. Every time he came in for lunch she was overcome with the memory of the New Year’s Eve debacle. She was mortified to think that at one time she had actually been attracted to him. She would never wish blindness on anyone, but she was hugely relieved to think that she’d never have to look into his eyes and see his disgust with her over that disastrous evening.

All afternoon she glanced toward the door of the restaurant, but Kevin never appeared. It would be like this for the next six months. Oh what pain, that thought! She had never longed so acutely to see his image at the door, as if wishing hard enough could conjure him up, standing there handsome and smiling, regal in his dress blues and snappy white
hat. Friday afternoon was the time he most often got early liberty from the ship and drove the seventy-five miles to San Jose to track her down at the restaurant. If he didn’t show up this afternoon, likely he would not show up at all. The thought made her sick at heart. She had not realized how much she looked forward to his unexpected visits to Big Bick’s.

As she wiped down a table to prepare for the next customer, a new idea bubbled to the surface of her mind:
more than just Kevin would push away from the Vallejo pier tomorrow morning. Her heart would push away too. Had Kevin replaced Michael in her heart?

Am I in love with Kevin?

Two years ago she had thought she knew what it meant to be in love. Michael was all flowers and fast cars and fancy restaurants. Michael was swooning and excitement and a fluttery heart. Michael fulfilled her expectations of the perfect man. He was her ideal.

But was that
love
? Could she have been in love with only an ideal?

Kevin was so different from Michael. He was patient and kind. He wasn’t proud and he never showed off. Michael always made sure that his family name or the name of his grandfather’s law practice fell into the conversation somewhere, even if just indirectly, but Kevin had nothing to prove. He was what he was. He even made fun of his plumbing work at times, though when Kevin made fun, it was truly funny, not just false modesty. Even
though he’d lost it a bit when he’d showed up at her apartment the same time as Burk, it was a fact that, that very same evening, he had shown genuine concern for Burk’s welfare as he’d helped him into his car when they were stuck out on freezing Monterey Road. Kevin might get angry but he didn’t stay angry. Had he not forgiven her quickly after she had shamelessly dumped Bonnie’s kids on him? Gina had, for all practical purposes, tricked him into babysitting on a lovely Sunday afternoon, which he could have spent doing one of a dozen more interesting things than playing hide-and-seek with a preschooler and wiping up baby drool. Kevin had accepted her apology immediately, and he actually had the grace to think the best of her intentions, though Gina knew better.

But Michael was still holding a grudge.

No one had ever encouraged her to seek her own happiness like Kevin. Michael mostly talked about Michael. Now that she thought about it, it was always about Michael: Michael’s education, Michael’s career, Michael’s family.
She
—not her parents—was the one who had lived in Michael’s shadow. He had towered over her in every area of her life. She would always be the adoring one had the relationship continued. Worse, Michael was content to maintain the status quo. At the first sign of trouble Michael had dumped her, but Kevin had pursued her, had persevered despite the obstacles of her broken heart and endless obsession with another man, not to mention her foolish infatuation with Burk. Kevin had never failed her. He cared about
her
. He looked out for her safety at her apartment and he was always concerned that her car was running well. Kevin had done all these things, even when she was discouraging his attentions.

Kevin was nothing like the man she had imagined she would fall in love with. But the more she thought about him, especially when she thought of not seeing him for six months, the more she realized she cared for him. He may not have been the picture of the man she thought would make her happy, but there was certainly nothing lacking about Kevin.

Maybe her expectations needed adjustment. Had she ever known her own heart? Could she trust it? Was it even possible for a young woman to know, really, what type of man would make her happy? Who could ever know themselves that well? Kevin was not Michael, but that was okay. She loved Kevin. She realized that now. And she didn’t want to lose him.

Gina’s lunch shift ended. But today, instead of following her normal routine of studying in the library followed by laps in Toso Pavilion, she hurried home to call Kevin. She was energized by a new sense of clarity and purpose: she had to call him and tell him how she felt, what she had discovered inside her heart. She found the slip of paper he’d given her weeks earlier with his phone number on the Flint. She dialed it hurriedly. The phone rang at least fifteen times. She was beginning to worry that she had dialed wrong when someone finally picked up.

“USSFlintOfficeroftheQuarterdeck.”

“I’m calling for Petty Officer Kevin Wyatt, please.”

“Hang on.”

She hung on. And hung on. The quarterdeck officer didn’t put the call on hold. He merely let go of the receiver so that she could hear all the customary business sounds of the quarterdeck office while she waited. She imagined a military style black phone attached to a wall, the hand set hanging from a long straight cord, swinging back and forth, back and forth, in a little gray office near the top deck of the ship. Quite distinctly she heard the quarterdeck officer paging Kevin on the 1MC. He paged several times, and then there was silence. Finally she heard the fumbling sounds of the officer picking up the receiver.

“He’s not answering, ma’am. You’ll have to call back.”

“Thank you.”

The quarterdeck officer’s brusqueness intimidated her. She wouldn’t call back. Kevin had told her about fellow sailors who received too many personal calls at the quarterdeck, how they got hauled before a division officer for a royal chewing out. Gina didn’t want that happen to Kevin, so until today, she had never called him when he was shipboard.

She debated what to do. Her singular goal was clear: She had to talk to Kevin before his ship pulled out in the morning. She wanted to tell him
Yes
. She wanted him to know that she realized she was in love with him. And she wanted to apologize for her horrible behavior. What must he think of her now?

But was contacting him the best strategy? If she stayed at her apartment she’d be there to take his call—if he called. Of course he might show up at the restaurant for the dinner shift, but she wasn’t scheduled to work tonight. She could work the dinner shift if she chose; Big Bick’s could always use an extra pair of hands on Friday nights. If she volunteered for the dinner shift, she would be there if he came by. But then again, if he didn’t find her there, he would surely drive straight to her apartment to look for her. She decided to stay put in case he called.

She paced. She turned on the TV, but as usual the programming selection contained nothing to soothe. She read her Bible, hoping for solace, but her eyes didn’t see the page. Homework was out of the question—she couldn’t possibly concentrate. She looked out the living room window, hoping to see a green VW beetle pull up to the curb. Nothing. She checked the phone line to see that it was working. It was. She paced some more. She looked out the window again.

She decided to call Bonnie. Talking to a friend would relieve at least a little tension. She dialed Bonnie’s number and waited. Soon she heard the taped greeting on Bonnie’s answering machine and then the high-pitched tone that alerted the caller that the recording feature was about to engage.

“Bonnie, it’s Gina. Call me.” She hung up quickly, not wanting to tie up her own phone line a second longer than necessary.

By seven o’clock he still had not called. She wanted to go for a walk to relieve her agitation, but if she missed his call she worried she wouldn’t survive it. She paced some more, back and forth, back and forth, across her little living room, but it didn’t relieve stress like a walk across campus or through the park. In fact, pacing seemed to wind her up even tighter, like a handle on a music box that’s been turned too many times.

This is crazy.
Sitting around her tiny apartment, pacing and worrying, willing the phone to ring. Finally she decided she would try and distract herself by climbing into bed with a true crime book. But she wouldn’t risk missing his call in her sleep. She pulled a blanket and pillow from her bed and lay down on the living room couch near the phone.

Please forgive me for being such a jerk, Kevin. I love you. I want to marry you. Please don’t shove off from Vallejo until I can talk to you. Please call me Kevin. Call me.

She slept fitfully. She woke around two and instinctively turned to the answering machine to see if she had missed a call. She hadn’t. After that it seemed she didn’t sleep much at all, but that was only because of the discomforts of sleeping on an old couch with a mind beset by worry.

Gina woke up to the sensation of warmth. The sun was up! She jumped up from the couch and ran to her bedroom to check the time. Eight forty-five.
She ran back to the living room to check the answering machine. No call. All in a moment she knew what she had to do. She would drive to Vallejo and find Kevin before he boarded the Flint and sailed away. Once he left port she might not speak to him again for six months. He would be sorry he had ever proposed to her, and he would never know about her change of heart. She had to get to Vallejo! She had to!