Winter Jacket: New Beginnings (5 page)

I felt an uncomfortable twist in my stomach.
Maybe I shouldn’t have hung up that diploma on the wall. “S-sure,” I stumbled.

Bob closed the door and that anxious feeling in my gut turned into full-on suffocation. I couldn’t imagine what he’d want to talk to me about that would warrant a closed-office door, but it couldn’t be good.

I cleared my throat and fidgeted with the stems of my reading glasses which I’d set on my desk. “What’s up?” I asked, trying to keep a cheerful lilt to my question.

Bob looked more interested in the art on my walls
, all leftover from the professor who’d occupied the office before me, rather than directly facing me.

“The
new Dean called me about you.”

“
Which one?” We had a bunch of Deans – the Dean of Students, the Dean of the Faculty, the Dean of the College of Arts and Sciences.

“Dean Merlot.”

I didn’t recognize the name. “Dean Krauss’ replacement?” I guessed.

“That would be the one,” Bob confirmed. “
The Dean, um, is concerned with how public you’re being.”

I didn’t understand what Bob was referring to at first. I swallowed when I realized what this was about though. “With Hunter, you mean,” I said carefully.

Bob nodded, albeit sheepishly.

“Am I being
too publicly
gay
?” I spat out the final word without meaning to.

Bob grimaced and squirmed in the chair. If I wasn’t consumed with
trying to control my anger, I would have felt sorry for him.

I leaned forward. “Did someone complain, Bob?” I demanded. He was kind of my boss, yes, but I was pissed and rapidly losing my composure.
I thought we’d hashed this out with my Tenure Review and that it wouldn’t be mentioned again.

“Dean Merlot received an anonymous call –.”

“Bullshit,” I cut him off. “I’m so
sick
of these cowards hiding behind anonymity to tattle on me because my sexuality makes them uncomfortable. It’s not against the law to be
gay
, Bob. Last time I checked I’m allowed to hold hands or hug my girlfriend in public.”

“Yes, but this is a private university with a religious affiliation,” he tried to counter.

“More bullshit,” I spat. “The Health Center provides students with contraceptives, the History department teaches History of Sexuality and the Women’s Studies Department offers Queer Theory,” I ticked off. “Mary Haste in the Psychology department is a single mother. What other so-called ‘sinful acts’ do I need to call to your attention?”

“This isn’t coming from me,” Bob said weakly, holding up his hands in surrender. “Believe me, Elle; I wouldn’t be talking to you about this if it weren’t for pressure from the new Dean.
I think it’s just about trying to establish authority and boundaries, being new and all.”

“Uh huh,” I said, not really listening. “And what’
s the ultimatum? I stop being gay or what? I get fired? I’ve got Tenure, Bob,” I reminded him. “It’s going to take a lot more than someone seeing me hugging my girlfriend on campus to get rid of me.”

Bob took a deep breath. “Dean Merlot simply asked me to remind you that under federal statutory and constitutional provisions, religious institutions like our school are able to make employment decisions based on the traditions of our faith.” He sounded like a robot, and I wanted to strangle him.

I bit into my upper lip to keep from snapping off something about where he could shove those traditions. “Understood,” I said stiffly. I stood and opened my office door. It felt like a blast of fresh air to have the door open again, and I took a deep, calming breath. “I hate to rush you off, but I’ve got a mountain of student writing to look over. I don’t want to fall behind so early in the semester. So if there’s nothing else…”

Bob stood and pulled on the bottom of his
Cosby-Show
sweater. “No, that’s it.” He shuffled toward the door and made an awkward passing. “Thanks for your time, Elle. I know you’re a busy lady.”

I gave him a forced smile. “Never too busy for a chat with you, Bob.”

He bobbed his head looking grateful that he’d managed to get through this conversation without losing any limbs.

I watched him walk down the hallway and turn into the mailroom. I shut my office door, closeting myself
inside in more ways than one.

+++++

“Great.”
I snapped my laptop closed from my seat at Hunter’s desk. “Like things could get any worse today.” I rubbed at my temples.

Hunter glanced up from her te
xtbook. “Uh oh. What’s wrong?”

I’d come straight over to Hunter’s apartment at the conclusion of my Thursday evening class.
Even though there was more room in my house and I was more comfortable in my own space, I’d been trying to be better about splitting time equally between our respective homes. I had been too selfish early in our relationship by assuming Hunter wanted to spend all of our shared time together at my house.

I floppe
d down next to her on her bed. “The trade press that was falling all over itself to give me an advanced book contract changed its mind.”

I’d been in talks with a popular trade press that had a strong catalog of contemporary short stories. I’d secured a book contract elsewhere for my anthology of stories about individuals with unique powers and abilities just in time for my Tenure Review. It included a short story about Hunter that I’d originally written when she and her winter jacket had first caught my attention. The book was in the copy-editing stage and would go to press soon. But one book was never enough in the world of academia – it was publish or perish. And before the ink had dried on my first book contract, I’d started brainstorming ideas for a second book.

Hunter frowned. “They can do that?”

“Apparently.”

“So what does that mean?”

“It means I suck,”
I pouted.

The reader reports you received from publishing with a University Press made me sick, but working with a trade press wasn’t proving to be any easier on my ego. Everything I did for my career – writing and teaching – was subjected to reviews.
It would be so nice to do something without an anonymous person judging my best efforts.

Hunter shut her textbook and I felt its weight beside m
e on the mattress. “Now you’re being a little melodramatic.”

“I know,”
I sighed. I rearranged myself so I could rest my head in her lap. Her fingers immediately began stroking through my hair, lightly massaging my scalp, and I felt my stress begin to slip away. “That feels good,” I murmured.

She bent over to peck the tip of my nose before returning her attention to my scalp.

“I’ll just have to send the book proposal to another press,” I said, thinking out loud. “It’s not the end of the world; it’s just annoying that they requested exclusive review only to reject me at this stage.”

“Everything happens for a reason,” Hunter reasonably responded. “Your book just wasn’t meant to be published with them. It’ll all work out.”

I hummed in agreement. I had nothing to worry about, really. “I know,” I concurred. “It’s just an added annoyance to my day.” I was still massively aggravated that I’d been confronted about being seen on campus with Hunter.

Hunter perked up on the bed. “
Did something else happen today?”

I rubbed my face. I hadn’t wanted to tell her about my meeting with
Bob. We’d been through enough unnecessary drama because of our age difference and my Tenure Review. I didn’t want her to worry; this was out of her control. “I’ve got a new boss – he’s the Dean of the College of Arts & Sciences.” I paused, deliberating whether or not to tell her the second piece of information. “And he’s a bit of a homophobe.”

“What?
How do you know?”

I sighed, feeling deflated.
“Because he told the Chair of my department to tell me to stop being so gay.”

Her eyebrows rose on her forehead. “Really?”

“Well, in so many words.” I tried to reign in my emotions as I recalled the conversation. “Apparently someone saw us together on campus yesterday, and they complained to the Dean. That’s what Bob told me at least. I think it’s more likely that the Dean himself saw us and is hiding behind this so-called anonymous complaint.”

Hunter didn’t
immediately respond. She rose from the bed and sat down at her desk.

“What are you doing?” I asked. I rearranged myself on the bed and propped myself on one elbow.

She flipped her laptop open and pulled up a web browser. “I’m looking him up. What’s his name?”

“Uh, Merlot,” I said. “Dean Merlot.”

Her fingers moved against the laptop’s keyboard. “Well, first of all, he is a
she
.”

“
She
?” I echoed.

“Yup,” Hunter confirmed.
“Unless ‘Jessica’ is a gender-neutral name?” She turned her laptop so I could see the screen better. “Here’s the announcement about the new hire on the university’s news page.”

“Huh.” I felt a little foolish for assuming that the new Dean was a man. Some feminist I was.

I patted the space beside me. “Come back? I miss you.”

Hunter smiled and shut the lid of her laptop, so she could return to her previous position with my head on her lap.

“Have you figured out yet what you’re going to do about your living situation?” I asked. Hunter’s current roommate, Sara, was moving out at the beginning of the following week. While I would have loved for us to have this generous apartment all to ourselves, I knew that wasn’t practical. Hunter’s parents paid for her to live off campus, and I doubted they would foot the bill for the entire apartment.

The hands
in my hair paused momentarily. “I think I have to get a new roommate. I don’t really want to move just to go to a studio apartment for a semester. I figure if I get a roommate, I’ll only have to deal with them for a few months until I graduate. Once I get a job, in theory, I’ll be able to afford a place on my own without my parents’ help.”

“Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out.”
I picked at the screen-print letters that said the name of our university on the leg of her sweatpants. I was tempted to point out that she could always move in with me for a few months, but things were really good with us right now. It seemed like an unnecessary complication.

“I guess so,” she said wistfully. “Tomorrow I’ll put some fliers up in the common areas on campus about looking for a roommate, and then I’ll just wait for the calls to come in.”

“Have fun with that,” I snorted. I had always rented studio apartments in college and in grad school for the sole reason of not wanting to share my space.

“Sara said she’d keep paying her share of the rent until I find a replacement
. She’s technically still on the lease until graduation, but she feels bad for bailing.”

“That’s nice of her.”

Hunter nodded. “I know. It takes the pressure off. I would have had to get an afterschool job or something to take care of her portion of the rent, and with my licensure exam coming up, plus all the hours I’m already doing at the hospital for my practicum, on top of the internship, it would have stretched me thin.” She shook her head. “Isn’t senior year supposed to be easy?”

“Sorry, Hunt. I wish I could tell you it gets easier from here.”

She kept stroking her fingers through my hair and looked particularly thoughtful. “Do you ever feel different?”

“Different how?” I asked.

“I mean, like when you’re kissing me do you ever think ‘Oh my God, I’m kissing a girl.’”

“I’m not really thinking much
of anything when I’m kissing you,” I answered truthfully. “You make me decidedly un-cerebral.”

“Such the charmer,” she chuckled. She leaned over and brushed her lips against mine. “W
hy are you so soft?” she sighed against me.

“Are you calling me fat?” I countered, not really meaning it.

“No. Your lips are soft.”

“Well, I
am
a girl,” I pointed out.

“I don’t
understand why everyone wouldn’t want to kiss girls.”

I couldn’t argue with her; it was pretty awesome.

“Kissing you is like eating cotton candy,” she breathed. She tilted her head and moved to recapture my mouth with her own while her hands softly wandered and explored the contours of my body.

She pulled away abruptly, leaving me wanting more.

“What?” I asked, looking up into her cornflower eyes.

“I just remembered that y
our birthday is tomorrow. I’m not prepared, and it’s your fault. Why didn’t you say something?”

“Because I didn’
t want you to make a big deal about it. It’s just another day on the calendar.”

She
stopped touching my hair so she could cross her arms across her chest. “So you
wanted
me to miss your birthday?”

“
Why not?” I asked, reluctantly sitting up. “I missed your 21st birthday,” I reminded her.

“You were in California.”

“Right. Being a stubborn asshole too afraid to let myself fall in love with someone ten years younger than me.”

“It’
s only 9 years and a few months,” she said, starting to look annoyed. “Did you not want to tell me about your birthday because of the age thing?”

“No. I’
m over the age thing,” I readily dismissed. I’d finally decided not to let our age difference bother me anymore. Hunter was an old soul, and I still had a lot of growing up to do. It all evened out. “I just don’t like birthdays,” I said for what felt like the hundredth time that day. “I never have. Everyone fusses over you and there’s so much unnecessary pressure to make the day go perfect, and I hate all those eyes on you when you blow out your candles, and if you leave three candles lit your friends and family slut-shame you because you have three boyfriends.”

Hunter blinked a few times. “
I have no idea what you’re talking about. You lost me somewhere in that rant.”

“
Your family never did that to you?”

She
still looked lost, so I had to explain: “When you make a wish and blow out your candles, if you leave any still lit, that number represents how many significant others you have at once.”

I could vividly remember the horror and embarrassment of my nine-year-old self from failing to extinguish all
of my birthday candles in one breath. Extended family members would be huddled around the dining room table, teasing me about having multiple boyfriends when two or three candles remained lit. I was too young to really know what any of that meant or why it mattered; all I knew was to blow out the flames as quickly as possible to save face. It had made me feel like I’d done something wrong. There was too much anxiety that mounted whenever I heard the Birthday Song.

She shook her head. “
Sorry, hun. I’ve never heard of that. You just have a weird family.”

“
I also twist the stem off my apples before I eat them. And I recite the alphabet with each rotation.”

She stared blankly at me
, and for a moment I worried I’d revealed too much. She knew I had quirks, like the being-late thing, but she probably hadn’t accounted on me being
this
weird.

“
And why do you say the alphabet?” she asked in a clear, calm voice. I wondered if she was mentally diagnosing me with OCD.

“Whatever letter I’
m on when the stem snaps off is the first initial of the person I’m supposed to marry.” I knew how ridiculous it sounded as the words came out, but I didn’t care. I ate an apple nearly every day, and without fail I twisted off the stem before eating it to find out who I was going to marry.

She shook her h
ead and smiled. “You’d better be tugging extra hard when it gets to H.”

+++++

The next morning, Hunter rolled over in bed beside me. “Morning, babe,” she yawned. She sat up slightly in bed and ran her fingers through her unruly hair.

I groaned. “It’
s too early,” I complained. I grabbed a spare pillow and covered my face. It was Friday, which normally was a day off of teaching for me, but today I had to go to campus for meetings. Most semesters it felt like I spent more time doing committee work for the university than actually teaching.

I could hear Hunter’s amused laugh. “We went to bed at like 10 last night. Is this what I have to look forward to when I get old like you?”

The seemingly innocent comment about my age rattled me. I removed the pillow from my face and glared. “Don’t you
dare
do anything for my birthday today,” I warned.

“Ellio, we’ve been over
this,” Hunter replied with an innocent smile. “I’m not going to.”

“Good,” I stated stubbornly.
I was annoyed that another birthday had snuck up on me.

Hunter chuckled good-naturedly and ran her palm over my stomach.
“Are we going to have a repeat performance of this conversation every year?”

“Unless you can figure out a way for me to stop having birthdays.”

“Sounds very vampire-y to me. And no offense, but even if you sparkled in the sunlight, I’m not into necrophilia.” Hunter grinned, showing off her deep dimples.