Winter Jacket: New Beginnings (25 page)

“I think it’s water damage from the attic,”
she said. Her voice sounded rough; I’d never heard her scream like that before. “I told the super about it months ago, but he’s a lazy dick.”

“That’s the worst kind.”
I sat up momentarily and grabbed the loop rug from the entranceway to make us a pillow. It was moderately more comfortable than before with a rolled up mat cushioning our heads, but I wasn’t about to suggest we go back to her bedroom. There was something comforting and intimate and raw about being out in the open like this.

“My lease is up soon.”

I sucked in a deep breath. “I promised we’d talk about that when I got back, didn’t I?”

She pulled her hair out of the
way and rolled onto her side. I didn’t know how the floor wasn’t painfully digging into her hipbones. “You did,” she confirmed.

“I guess this is as good a time as ever,” I said. I drummed my fingers against my stomach. “When exactly do you have to make a decision about the apartment? When’s your lease officially over?”

“Two weeks.”

“
Two weeks
?” I echoed. “Why didn’t you say something earlier?”

Her eyelashes fluttered. “This is going to sound ridiculous,” she muttered, “but I didn’
t want it to be my idea.”

“Moving in with me?”

She nodded, looking bashful.

I reached out for her. “God, I’m
sorry, Hunt.” I interlaced our fingers and brought our conjoined hands to rest on my breastplate. “I know we talked about it at the beginning of the semester, but then I got so busy between my mom showing up and Dean Merlot being a bitch and Troi and Nik leaving.”

“I know,” she sighed. She rubbed at her face with her free hand. “And it was really irresponsible of me to let it go for this long. I’m never like this. I never wait until the last minute to make plans, especially for something important like
where I’m going to live.
”

I made a noise in the back of my throat and continued to stare up at the ceiling.
Two weeks.

“You wouldn’t have to worry about Loryssa anymore,” Hunter said in a careful, soft voice.

I turned to look at her. She was biting down on her lower lip and staring at the ceiling as well.

“I trust you, you know. I didn’
t show up like this to check up on you.”

Her blue eyes regarded me. “You really changed
your flight and cut your visit short with your best friends
just
because you missed me? I don’t believe that.”

“Fine.”
I hid my face behind my hands. “I might have wanted to stake my claim, too.” I peeked through my fingers to gauge her reaction.

She rolled her eyes, but she looked amused rather than annoyed.

“Two weeks.”

“It’s not an ultimatum,” she was quick to
elucidate. “And I’m not going to be homeless if you don’t want to move in together; I can very easily continue living here. All I have to do is sign a new contract. I don’t want us to rush into anything,” she cautioned.

“That wouldn’
t be us though,” I said, thinking out loud. “The not rushing things part,” I clarified. “Because if you think about it, we kind of jumped into this relationship head first and have been doing stuff like that ever since. And it’s worked out pretty well so far, don’t you think?”

H
er lips curled at their edges. “So are you saying you want to move in together, Ellio?” Her words were cautious, but hopeful.

Butterflies attacked my stomach when I thought about waking up to her every morning. Good butterflies. “Yeah. I am.”

+++++

I slept better that night than I had in recent memory.
Having made a decision about my future seemed to put my mind to rest. I had experienced so many restless nights over the past few months, that I’d nearly forgotten what it was like to have an entire evening of uninterrupted sleep. I woke up early the next morning with a refreshed outlook, but a growling stomach; I hadn’t eaten anything since I’d left California, unless you counted my girlfriend.

Hunter slept soundly on her back beside me. One long limb was thrown across her eyes and her mouth was slightly open.
I wondered if she ever had problems sleeping. I smiled at the sight and pressed my lips to her forearm before I slid out of bed to forage for breakfast.

I padded to the kitchen, wincing under each creaky footstep.
I wanted to let Hunter sleep in, but I also didn’t feel like seeing Loryssa until after I’d had a shower and a cup of coffee. I opened and closed cabinet doors and drawers as silently as I could to avoid waking up anyone in the apartment. Midway through my bowl of cereal, however, I had a visitor.

“Good morning, Professor Graft.”

“Loryssa,” I greeted back.
I dropped my spoon into my half-eaten bowl of cereal and self-consciously wiped my hands on my pajama bottoms. It was more than a little awkward seeing her. I was no longer her professor, so it didn’t bother me that we were both in pajamas. But hovering between us was the fact that she’d crawled into my girlfriend’s bed with less than honorable intent. Moreover, there was no way she hadn’t heard Hunter and me the previous night in the hallway and then again in Hunter’s bedroom, unless she wore noise-cancelling headphones to sleep.

“You can call me Elle, you know,” I told her. “I’m not your teacher anymore; I’m just your roommate’s girlfriend.”

“Right.” She made a pained face. “About that. About the other night…” she trailed off.

This was where I was supposed to interrupt her an
d insist it was no big deal she’d tried to seduce my girlfriend – water under the bridge and all that. A bigger person would take pity on this girl. I wasn’t the bigger person though. I didn’t mind seeing her eyes dart everywhere except to me, witnessing her squirm uncomfortably.

“
Eric and I had a fight, and I had too much to drink, and I guess I got lonely or something,” she confessed.

She kept pausing and gesturing helplessly, waiting for me to
stop her, no doubt, but I wasn’t going to make this easy for her. Maybe that made me petty, but I didn’t really care. Actions had consequences and I wanted her to know that what she’d done wasn’t okay.

“I’
m not a home-wrecker, and I respect you and Hunter’s relationship,” she said, “so I wanted to apologize and assure you that it’ll never happen again.”

I leaned back in my chair finally, relaxing my body language.
Loryssa continued to fidget in her place as she waited for my response.

“I’m happy to hear that.” I didn’
t really know what else to say. I wasn’t versed in the protocol for confronting someone who’d tried to get into your girlfriend’s pants. I supposed there was always hair-pulling, but that seemed a little beneath me.

“So…we’re good?”
Loryssa’s voice lilted hopefully.

I nodded and shove
led more cereal into my mouth.

She seemed to have grown taller, l
ighter, from our conversation. “That’s a relief. Hunter’s a great roommate and this is a great apartment.”

I made an agreein
g noise around my raisin bran. I didn’t bother telling her that Hunter would be moving in with me in two weeks. I didn’t want her to think that she’d been the cause of that mutual decision. I trusted Hunter implicitly; this was just the right move forward for our relationship.

“Okay,”
Loryssa chirped. She bounced on her toes. “I’ve got a photo shoot today, so I should probably take a shower. See you later!”

I watched the girl skip down the hallway and disappear behind the bathroom door. Loryssa was admittedly beautiful. It was the kind of beauty that made you do a double take. But a beautiful woman like Loryssa could stand in front of me in her pajamas, and I wasn’t tempted the way Hunter had had me obsessing when she’d been my student. I wasn’t just into Hunter because of her beauty. She wasn’t your typical co-ed. She was mature beyond her years; she was an old soul who somehow, at the age of 21, had her life on track. Now I just needed to do the same.

+++++

“I’m going to apply for a sabbatical.”

Hunter’s eyes jerked away from the mirror in her bedroom where she’d been getting ready for the day. “I don’
t know what that means. Should I be excited or worried?”

I sat down on her be
d, tucking my legs beneath me. “Probably both,” I admitted. I took a deep breath. “If Dean Merlot will give me at least a semester off, I want to use that time to explore my options beyond teaching.”

Hunter turned to me with a serious face.
She set her makeup bag down on top of her dresser bureau. “You’re going to take that TV job in California with Troian, aren’t you?”

I patted the space beside me on the bed.
Hunter abandoned her morning routine to sit next to me. I took her hands in mine and kissed her knuckles.

“
For as long as I can remember, I’ve wanted to be a writer. But somewhere along the way I lost sight of that because of teaching. I always had a plan. I always knew what that next step was going to be. After college, that meant grad school, after that, getting a job.”

“And then getting tenure,”
Hunter supplied.

I nodded. “And now, now there’s not an extra step that’
s already been decided for me. I’m at a point where I actually get to make a
choice
about my career. Nothing has been predetermined.” I paused to wet my lips. “I figure that I can work for Troian for a few months and see if I like it or not – if I think there’s a future for me there. And if not, my job at the university will still be waiting for me.”

Hunter sucked her lower lip into her mouth.
Her voice came out very small. “So what does that mean for our plan to live together?”

“
If the Dean denies my sabbatical, nothing changes,” I said. “Your lease ends here and you move into my house.”

“And if she doesn’t say no? If you get your sabbatical?”

I dropped my eyes to the pattern on her duvet. “Then…you still move into my house.”

“
But you go to California without me,” Hunter continued for me.

I finally looked up.
Her mouth was set in a hard line.

“
Is that why you agreed so easily to let me live with you?” she accused. “Because you weren’t planning on living there anymore?”

I held up my hands. “No, baby. Nothing like that.”

“Don’t infantilize me,” she snapped.

“I’m sorry.”

Those grey-blue eyes flashed with defiance. “Why can’t I come to California with you?” she demanded.

“Because it might
not be a permanent move,” I reasoned. “You’ve worked so hard to get on the rotation in pediatrics. If I find out Hollywood isn’t for me, you would have given that up for nothing.”

“Not for nothing,”
she protested. “To be with you. You need to let me make decisions about my life on my own.”

“I’
d fly you over whenever you had a break from work,” I promised.

“
You were gone less than a week and my hot roommate jumped into bed with me,” she pointed out.

“
You’ll be living at my house, so I won’t have her to worry about,” I countered, not taking the bait. “Besides, someone needs to watch over Sylvia and you’re the only one she likes.”

Her eyes narrowed. “
Am I your girlfriend or a cat sitter, Elle?”

My mouth opened and closed. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Unless you don’t want me there?” Her eyebrows arched.

“
Of course I want you there.” That was the most ridiculous accusation I’d ever heard. “I miss you every day even when you’re just at the hospital.”

“Then why would you want to do a long-distance relationship?”

“Your schedule is four on, three off. You could come to California on your off days.”

“
And spend half my time off in airports?” she huffed. “No thanks.”

“
I can’t let you drop everything,” I continued to protest, even though I felt my resistance slipping. “All your friends and family are here.”

“But
you
would be in California,” she pointed out. “And it’s not like I wouldn’t know anyone out there – I’d have Nik and Troian. And if I couldn’t find a nursing job right away, I could always do landscaping for Nikole. I did that before,” she reminded me.

I bit my lower lip. “It sounds like you’ve given thought to this.”

A half-smile curled onto her mouth. “Well when you were in California and you asked me if I’d ever leave the Midwest, I kind of anticipated this might happen.”

“So if I go talk to Dean Merlot on Monday about a sabbatical, you won’t be mad?”

“Ellio, it’s your life. I can’t be mad at you for wanting to explore your options.” She smirked. “Your
career
options, that is.”

“This conversation could be totally moot, you know? I don’t exactly have the best track record with that woman. Chances are she’ll say no.”

“But you’ll never know until you try.”

I felt the tell-tale prick of tears sting the corners of my eyes. I jumped up from the bed; I didn’t want to cry in front of her. She looked startled by my abrupt movement. “Uh, you want to go out for breakfast or something?” I sniffled, giving myself away.

She didn’t comment on the emotions currently spilling out of my eyes and I loved her just a little bit more for that.

+++++

It was a warm, sunny morning; one of my favorite kinds of days with just enough of a breeze to assure it wouldn’t get
too hot by noon. Hunter and I left her apartment to do some lazy shopping at the downtown farmer’s market. The main street shut down for pedestrians every Saturday in the summer from sun up to about noon or whenever the local farmers ran out of produce. We didn’t bring a grocery list, but it was fun to wander from booth to booth, drinking coffee and nibbling on chocolate croissants we’d bought at an adjacent bakery.

We walked, hands loosely clasped but together, joined arms slightly swinging, inspecting each booth. Most were local vegetable farmers, but a few sold things like raw honey, natural soaps, or even cheese. My favorite was the fresh-cut flower stands. I myself didn’t care for flowers, but I loved the way Hunter’s face lit up when I bought her a bouquet.

She looked amazing, as always, wearing a tank top and torn denim jeans that hung low on her hips. The tops of her rounded shoulders were tinted pink from early summer sunshine.

I was
inspecting a mountain of sugar snap peas and thinking about stir-fry for dinner when I heard the panic in Hunter’s voice.

“My mom is here.”

I resisted the urge to dive behind one of the booths and hide. “Where?”

Hunter pointed as unobtrusively as possible. “By the boot
h with the stone-milled flour.”

Ellen Dyson, Hunter’s mother, was a statuesque woman. Her honey blonde hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail, reflecting the sunlight. Her face was half-hidden behind oversized Jackie O sunglasses. The collar of her sleeveless button-down was popped, making her look even more suburban than usual. At any rate, she looked too polished an
d prim for the farmers’ market.

I self-consciously touched my messy bun. I hadn’t bothered showering knowing that when we got back we’d probably nap or do yard work
at my house. The flower garden Hunter had helped me plant when we’d first started dating was in full bloom and starting to get overrun with weeds. Nikole would shame me if I didn’t do something about it soon.

“What is she doing here?” Hunter his
sed. “She hates farmers’ markets – says they’re for hippies and Communists.”

“Maybe she’s become a fan of Marx and En
gels,” I unhelpfully suggested.

Hunter’s hand tightened around mine. “Do I go over and say hi? Or do I pre
tend like I didn’t notice her?”

“Come on,” I said, feeling strangely empowered.
I tugged Hunter in the direction of where her mother stood.

“Mrs. Dyson?” I called out, catching her attention.

“Hunter?” she said when she saw me and her daughter. Her grey-blue eyes, the same shade of color as her daughter’s, caught mine. “And…”

“Elle,” I quickly supplied, not giving her the opportunity to
admit she’d forgotten my name.

I was actually relieved for the opportunity to confront her out in public like this. If my suspicions were correct, Elle
n Dyson wasn’t the type of woman to cause a scene in front of strangers. She’d at least pretend to be civil rather than draw unwanted attention to us.

“What are
you doing here?” Hunter asked.

Her mother lifted a canvas grocery bag. “Shopping.”

“I thought you didn’t like farmers’ markets,” Hunter said, almost accusingly.

“Well, everyone’s allowed to change their opinions, right?” Her eyes lingered on me
purposefully.

“Would you and your family like to have dinner at my house?”
I blurted out. From beside me I heard Hunter’s sharp intake of air.

Hunter’s mother, however, did not appear taken aback by my question. She
took her time, thinking my invitation over. I tried not to fidget as I waited.

“I think that would be lovely,” she finally agreed.

“Maybe later this week if you’re available. How about Wednesday?” I could match her polite veneer with my own.

She nodded. “I’ll have to check with my husband, but I think that would work.”

“Fantastic. I’ll have Hunter email you the details.”

I could feel Hunter’s eyes on me when her mother walked away
to continue shopping for quinoa or kale or whatever suburban housewives eat.
Oh lord.
I had to figure out something to make.

Hunter continued to silently stare at me. “What?” I asked, feeling self-conscious.

She slowly shook her head. “I can’t believe that just happened. You totally just invited my family to dinner like it was no big deal.”

I honestly couldn’t believe I’d done it either. Maybe my conversation with Loryssa that morning had empowered me. I looped my arm through Hunter’s. “Think of it as a brand-new Elle.”

“I didn’t think there was anything wrong with the old Elle,” Hunter countered.

“That’s because you’re too nice, love. I’m far from perfect, especially when it comes to relationships.” I searched her eyes and touched my fingers to her cheek. “But I really want to try harder for you. I want to be the girlfriend you deserve.”

+++++

CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN

I sat anxiousl
y in the outer office of Dean Merlot. The reception area was stiflingly quiet with only the measured chimes of a grandfather clock and the erratic typing of Dean Merlot’s administrative assistant spoiling the complete silence. I tried unsuccessfully to get comfortable in a straight-backed antique chair. It was a Monday and even though classes weren’t in session because of the summer season, most staff and some faculty still kept business hours. Dean Merlot wasn’t the exception.

“She’ll see you now,” the
Dean’s administrative assistant said, not bothering to look away from her computer screen. I wondered if she was playing Candy Crush.

I stood from my chair and ran my sweaty palms over my dress pants. It was too warm for the outfit, but I hadn’t wanted to show up to this meeting looking unprofessional. As I felt the beads of sweat accumulating in the small of my back, I second-guessed my wardrobe choice.

I sucked in a deep breath and pushed open the heavy, cumbersome door to the Dean’s office. It was like opening the door to a tomb that hadn’t been opened in thousands of years.

Dean Merlot sat behind an expensive-looking wooden desk. “Elle!” she
greeted, actually looking pleased to see me. Her kindness was disorienting, but I was reminded of the charming personality she’d displayed at the end-of-the-year party, so I tried not to dwell on it.

“What brings you to my neck of the woods?”
she said, standing from her chair. “What does that even mean, ‘Neck of the Woods’?”

I dislodged the frog from my throat.
“Uhm, ‘neck’ means a narrow strip of land, like someone’s plot,” I informed her. “So if it’s ‘your neck,’ it’s your settlement or house.”

Dean Merlot grinned charmingly. “I guess that’s why you’re the English teacher and I’m just
the Dean.”

I cleared my throat
again. Damn frogs.

“Come on in,” she said, ushering me into her inner office.

I didn’t think I’d ever been in Dean Krauss’s office when he’d inhabited the space, so I didn’t know what changes the new Dean had made, if any. Dean Merlot’s office was sizeable and formal. It was much roomier than my office and its windows offered a view of the campus green instead of the parking lot. The furniture matched, unlike the hand-me-downs in my office that I’d had to scavenge from around campus. Her degrees were framed and hung on the wall that overlooked her desk. Apparently she wasn’t the type to worry that decorating her office might be bad luck.

“Something to drink?
” she offered. “Coffee? Tea?” Her generous smile grew mischievous. “Something stronger?”

“No, I’m fine,” I dismissed. “This shouldn’t take long.” I sat down without being offered first.

Instead of returning to her office chair, she perched on the corner of her desk. I tried to ignore the way her pencil skirt inched up her legs when she sat down, showing off two femininely muscled thighs beneath a dark nylon.

She wasn’t much older than myself, if at all, and our few brief interactions had left
me perplexed about her agenda. There was something about Jessica Merlot that reminded me of Ruby, and it unsettled me. She was charming to my face, but from the safety of her office she’d done nothing but seemingly sabotage my career happiness as well as the happiness of quite a few of my colleagues.

I ran my palms over the tops of my thighs. “I’d like to ask you about getting a sabbatical.”

Dean Merlot’s lips pursed in thought. “You didn’t get one before you were up for tenure?”

I shook my hea
d. “I was supposed to get one; it’s in my contract. But Bob needed me to stay on to cover the classes of some senior faculty who were taking a leave of absence.”

“That was charitable of you,” she observed. “Normally junior faculty
require that sabbatical to finish getting a book contract before their tenure review. That’s why we put it in your contract.”

“Yeah, it was pretty stressful
meeting my tenure benchmarks without the typical course reduction,” I admitted, “but I wanted to help out.”

The Dean stood from her perch on the corner of her desk. “Well I don’t see any reason why we can’t accommodate you with a sabbatical now,” she said as she maneuvered around the desk to sit down in her office chair.

Her encouraging words helped me relax. “I’m glad to hear that because I’d like a sabbatical for next Fall.”

“Next F
all?” she echoed. “As in the semester that’s going to start in a few months?”

I nodded. “I know it’s short notice, but an opportunity has presented itself.” I left it at that; she didn’t need to know that I wanted to try my hand at writing television scripts and that ultimately I might abandon teaching and this university altogether.

Dean Merlot frowned. “I couldn’t possibly grant you a sabbatical with this short of notice. You’re scheduled for three classes in the Fall if I’m not mistaken.”

“
Which could very easily be taken over by an adjunct for cheap.” I had anticipated these excuses.

The Dean frowned more deeply.

“I was supposed to get a sabbatical the semester before I was up for tenure. It never happened. The University owes me.” I stared purposefully. “
You
owe me this, Dean Merlot.”

“It’s Jessica, remember?”
she lightly corrected and looked away. I could tell she was uncomfortable.

We
had never spoken about how she’d rejected both of my course proposals. In hindsight it was probably a good thing she hadn’t been in her office when Bob had broken the bad news. I might not have behaved very professionally. I still felt betrayed, but at least now with some distance from the unexpected rejection I could maintain my composure.

“I’ll look into it,”
she stated carefully. She played with the double-strand of pearls around her neck. They probably cost more than what they’d pay an adjunct to take over my classes. “But I can’t make any promises,” she warned.

“When will you know?” I pressed. I didn’t want to be strung along the entire summer not knowing when or if I might have to move to California.

“I’ll let you know by the end of the week.”

It wasn’t the answer I had wanted when I
’d set up this meeting, but it wasn’t an outright refusal, so there was still hope. I recognized that it was short-notice on my part, but they did contractually owe me the semester-long break. If I wasn’t granted a sabbatical this Fall, then perhaps I’d get one in Spring and Troian would still need another writer.