Authors: Elisa Lorello
“Well, it’s not because of that,” I said. “I mean, it is and it isn’t. I’m going away again.”
“Where to?”
“Peru.”
“Peru?”
“Yeah.”
“What the hell is in Peru?”
“Research. For Sam’s novel.”
“I thought you hate to fly.”
“I’d rather chew on my innards.”
“So you can’t rent a video or watch the Travel Channel instead?”
“I’m surprised, Jeff. I thought you’d be more supportive. You were totally pushing me to go to Italy, if I recall.”
“I could see you in Italy. I can’t see you in Peru.”
“I know more Spanish than I do Italian. Besides, I’m going to have a guide.”
I knew exactly how Jeff felt, because the words, and the decisiveness with which I was saying them, was shocking the hell out of
me
.
“Your boyfriend’s not going with you?” he asked.
The word “boyfriend” bothered me. “Don’t call him that. And no, he’s not.”
He huffed again. “It can’t wait until spring break?”
“I suppose it could, but I’d rather not.”
“Well, bien venido, I guess. Or did I just tell you to have a nice life?”
“Thanks, Jeff. Really. I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of your position because we’re friends.”
“But you are, though, aren’t you. And I’m letting you, so we’re both screwed.”
I laughed.
“Besides,” he continued, “there’s more to life than NU. You’re coming back though, Andi, aren’t you?”
“I’ll see you soon, Jeff.”
After I got off the phone with Jeff, I called Piero and asked him to introduce me to Julian, the new Spanish professor; I wanted to sit in during his fall classes to brush up on the language.
Finally, I called David.
“Hey,” I said when he answered.
“Hey.”
“I just want you to know that I love you.”
I’d not said those words to him all this time.
He paused for a beat. “I love you too,” he said softly. He almost sounded relieved, as if he’d been holding his breath for the last six months.
“I also want you to know that I’m sorry for the way I’ve been since we got back from Italy. I understand now what you were trying to tell me that afternoon on the bridge in
Harvard Square
. I get it.”
“I’m glad.”
“I’m going to Peru by myself,” I announced. “And I’m going during the week of Columbus Day. It’ll be the second anniversary of Sam’s death, not to mention what would’ve been our seventh wedding anniversary.”
“Okay,” he said after another beat.
“And I’m going to resign.”
“What?”
“I’m going to resign. I mean, this’ll be my last year at NU.”
“When did you decide this?”
“Just now.”
“Are you sure about this?” His doubt mixed with worry.
“Yes, I am.”
“What will you do for work?”
“I have no idea. Keep writing, I guess.”
Another beat. “Wow.”
“Yeah.”
“Shit, man,” he said. I smiled to myself; he stole Sam’s and my phrase.
“I’m gonna take the train back up the day after tomorrow. Will you pick me up at South Station?”
“Sure.”
“I’ll call you then.”
“Okay.”
Silence set in for a beat. “You okay, Dev?”
“Shocked. Are
you
okay?”
“I’m okay. It feels like the right thing to do. Like jumping off a cliff.”
He laughed. “Well, you’ll land on your feet.”
We bid each other goodnight. It was only eight-thirty, but I changed into my pajamas and crawled into bed. Staring at the dark ceiling, I mentally replayed all the conversations, starting with the one with Mom. Maybe David was right about forgiveness. Maybe forgiveness didn’t start with Sam or the drunk driver. Maybe it started with my mother and father.
As I drifted to sleep, I could’ve sworn I felt a playful kiss on my nose and a whisper in my ear.
“I’m very proud of you, Sweetheart.”
Chapter Thirty
October
I
STROLLED OUT OF THE CLASSROOM WITH JULIAN, the new Spanish teacher, laughing at the lesson he’d wound up teaching: Spanish curse words.
“Hey, it was the best class participation, hands down,” he argued. “And it’ll be the only words they remember. They’ll come in handy for you, too.”
“Hey, I never cursed once in Italian,” I insisted.
“Who needs to curse when they’re in Rome?”
Julian was six feet tall and wore Birkenstocks with no socks, even in the dead of winter. He did not have the exotic looks of Piero (Julian was American—born and raised in the Colorado Rockies), but he had a cute vibe going on with hazel eyes, thick cowlicked hair the color of brown sugar, and a pooka-shell choker reminiscent of the David Cassidy fad back in the seventies. On anyone else, it’d look stupid. Come to think of it, it looked stupid on Julian, too, but he made up for his lack of fashion-accessory sense by being well-read and well-traveled, having visited most of the Latin American countries and parts of Europe.
Despite our opposite backgrounds and experiences, we seemed to complement each other; I couldn’t help but think that he and Sam would’ve gotten along, too. We’d gotten quite friendly in the last month, often going out for coffee after his morning Spanish 101 class, which I’d started attending unofficially, just as I’d done with Piero’s Italian class. Julian treated me the same way he treated his freshman and sophomore students, making me participate in the same call-and-response exercises and putting me on the spot. Come to think of it, had I not been seeing David, there’s a good chance I might have taken even more of an interest in Julian. With Piero, I simply wanted to have one night of passionate sex with him, and he looked more than capable of fulfilling that fantasy. I was beginning to wonder if the foreign language department was hiring their faculty based solely on looks.
We rounded the corner to my office so I could get my jacket before heading out for coffee. But as I opened the door, I nearly jumped through the ceiling when David stood up from behind my desk.
“What the hell…” I started, trying to catch my breath. “What are you doing here?” I asked.
“Surprise,” he said sheepishly. He then looked at Julian, his sienna eyes growing dark like thunderclouds. “I thought we could go out for coffee or something.”
“Actually, we were just about to do just that,” said Julian. “You’re welcome to join us.”
“I don’t want to intrude,” he said.
“No intrusion,” said Julian. “We do this all the time.”
David pierced me with his eyes. “Really.”
I stared back at him for a few seconds, wondering what had gotten into him, when I snapped out of it. “Geez, where are my manners? Julian, this is David, my… David, this is Julian, the Spanish teacher.”
Julian and David shook hands; I thought David was gonna take him to the ground.
“I’m just helpin’ her brush up on her Spanish,” said Julian, who must have been intimidated by David’s cold stare and crushing handshake.
“And going out for coffee,” added David.
“All good fun,” said Julian.
“Hey, do you mind taking a rain-check until I get back from Peru?” I asked Julian. “I kinda want David all to myself, especially since he was so thoughtful to surprise me, and I’m leaving the day after tomorrow.” I hoped that sounded diplomatic.
“No problem,” said Julian. “Have a good trip. I’m totally jealous of you, you know. If I could’ve, I would’ve gone with you and offered to be your guide for free.”
“That’s sweet, Julian. Thanks for all the extra help this past month. Anything I can bring back for you?”
“Hmmmm…” He paused and looked momentarily up at the ceiling before redirecting his eyes back to me. “A Peruvian chica?” he said, laughing. What a Devin thing to say, I thought.
“Won’t fit in the suitcase,” I responded.
After Julian left, I looked at David and raised my eyebrows.
“Well, this is a surprise. Kinda wish you’d called, though. I could’ve been in a meeting and you would’ve wasted the trip out here,” I said.
“But you weren’t in a meeting, were you. You were going to have coffee with Granola Guy.”
“So what?” I said, irked.
“How long has this been going on?”
“How long has
what
been going on?”
“Your little coffee klatches?”
“Dev, I—” I started.
“
David,
” his said, his voice a razor.
“Are you
jealous
, David?” I asked.
He threw his hands in the air. “Finally she gets it!”
“Look, he’s just been helping me with my Spanish for Peru, just like he said. Just like I
told
you weeks ago.”
“You never told me about the coffee.”
“So what if we’ve been having coffee? He’s just a friend. He’s a guy to hang out with, that’s all. I like hanging out with people, you know. I haven’t done much of it since Sam…” God, I still hated saying the word. I hated saying it out loud. “Since Sam died. Other than Jeff,” I added. “You’re not jealous of Jeff too, are you?”
“Jeff is married.”
“So what?”
“So, that guy wants you,” he said, slightly raising his voice, pointing to the door.
I laughed incredulously. “Julian?”
“You can’t tell?”
“Lower your voice, please,” I said in a hushed tone. “This is my workplace and the walls have ears.”
David opened the office door and strode down the hall ahead of me before stopping and trying to regain his sense of direction; he’d never been to NU before. I followed and caught up to him, took him by the arm, and led him down the stairs and out of the building to the faculty parking lot, saying nothing until we reached my car.
“Which lot did you park in?” I asked.
“Look, Andi,” he started.
“I don’t wanna talk to you anymore,” I said. “You show up at my workplace unannounced and you go all apeshit on me, like you caught me doing it with him in his office or something. Jealousy doesn’t become you, David.”
“Excuse me for wanting to do something romantic. I’ll bet if Sam had shown up unannounced, you would’ve gushed and melted on the spot. But because it’s
me
, it’s inconvenient.”