Tenure Track (20 page)

Lewis was not quite sure what to make of Laura’s behavior. She seemed very agitated, which was surprising given their encounter just a few hours earlier. He started to ask if something was wrong but was interrupted by a knock on the door and the call of “Room Service!”

Laura quickly threw a robe on the bed and ordered her husband to put it on. Once he was properly covered, she opened the door to let the server enter with their breakfast. After he left, she turned on the television set and finished her food in small, quick bites as she alternatively watched news reports and stared intently at the newspaper. Lewis found this behavior particularly strange because his wife had never been much of a television watcher. Lewis’s few feeble attempts to make small talk were rebuffed.

“
Is something wrong?” he finally asked.

Laura started to say something, then stopped herself. “No, I’m just very tired. Late night and too much champagne.” She patted his hand reassuringly, convincing him that it was just a hangover.

An hour later, they were skating around the ice at Rockefeller Center. Laura was like a gazelle—free, graceful, seemingly very lost in thought as she glided across the ice. Lewis finally gave up his awkward shuffling and just sat down to watch her.

After awhile she skated towards him. “What? Did you give up already?”

“
Better to throw in the towel now than wait until I break something. Besides, I like watching you more.” He smiled with admiration. For a second, she returned the smile, then her expression turned to one of dead seriousness.

“
Lewis,” she sighed, squinting from the bright sunlight. “We have to talk.”

“
I thought something was bothering you.” He motioned for her to sit down next to him, which she did. She sat upright, her back refusing to touch the bench across which Lewis lay an outstretched arm.

“
What’s up?” he asked with a furrowed brow.

Laura took another deep breath before speaking. “I’ve been trying to think of the best way to tell you this, but there isn’t really an easy way, I guess.”

“
You’re pregnant!” Lewis interrupted, only half-joking, as the thought had crossed his mind.

“
No,” she replied sternly, looking him straight in the eyes. “Just don’t interrupt, please.”

“
Uh, okay,” he obeyed.

She took another deep breath. Now he was starting to worry, his hands sweating as he waited through an interminable silence. “Lewis,” she finally said, “when I get back to New Haven, I’m filing for divorce.”

That was it. No, “I’m thinking about divorce,” “I would like a divorce,” or even “I think there are some problems in this marriage. What can we do about that?” She was just going to file for divorce. End of discussion.

Lewis felt as if he had been punched in the chest, a sensation that also seemed to render him mute. He inhaled a deep breath of frigid air as the bitter wind blew harshly against his skin. Unable to look at his wife, he watched the ice skaters instead. Some glided effortlessly, as if they had been born with skates on their feet. Others were more like him, struggling just to remain erect on the ice. He watched as one small child of about four or five fell down, bumping a knee. The little one had on so many layers of clothing that Lewis could not even tell if it was a boy or a girl
.
The child’s mother quickly scooped it up and offered a comforting hug to quell its cries.

Laura grew impatient with his impassivity. “Well?” she snapped, “Aren’t you going to say something? I just told you I’m ending our marriage. Don’t you have any response?”

After another moment he finally found his voice. “You sound like you’ve had this planned for awhile.”

Her head gave a slight nod.

Then he put forth the obvious question, “So what’s all this been for the past week? We celebrate Christmas with your family, have sex like monkeys last night, and then you just dump me? What
is
that?”

For the first time in the history of their relationship, Laura looked sheepish, the subterfuge of her plot becoming clearer. “I didn’t want to ruin the holidays for you,” she whispered.

The audacity of her explanation infuriated him. “Well it’s
certainly
ruined now!” he responded sarcastically. Then, in a mocking tone, he continued, “It’s a new year! Out with the old, clean the closets, toss out the husband!”

“
Lewis, you’re raising your voice,” Laura noted.

“
SO FUCKING WHAT?” he shouted, as several people, including the mother of the small unisex skater, stared. “You bring me to the most public place in New York City on New Year’s Day to tell me you’re divorcing me, after we spent all night screwing, and you expect me to be quiet about it?”

The more he shouted, the softer Laura’s voice became. She had never seen him so angry. “I wasn’t intending to tell you here. I just wasn’t sure what the best time and place should be.”

“
Well this was
not
it!” he spit. “How about a week ago? How about a month ago so I wouldn’t have even bothered coming on this trip? Did you get your jollies having a goodbye fuck last night that only one of us knew was a goodbye fuck?”

“
Lewis,” she spoke up, sounding more like her usual, rational self, “sex was never a problem for us—“

“
Maybe not for
you,
” he retorted.

“
I just wanted us to have one last nice holiday together, so that you could have some good memories before I told you.”

His glare practically burned a hole through her. “Don’t you
dare
suggest that this was for me. This was for you, to get your kicks and try to ease your conscience. How was I supposed to take this? I know things have been a little strained between us, but I thought we could work it out. How could you decide this without even talking to me about it?”

“
We’ve had months to talk about it, Lewis,” she pointed out.

“
And have you?” he replied. “Did you ever once say that you were so miserable that you wanted out? I thought we had a plan. Just a little distance for awhile until we could both get jobs we wanted. What happened to the plan?”

“
I never liked the plan,” she shot back. “I need someone who wants to be with me, Lewis. You haven’t even been trying!”

“
So is there someone else?” he countered. She assured him that there was not, and he was inclined to believe her.

“
I’m too old for a long-distance courtship, Lewis. I want a family. One that’s all together, with a partner who wants to be with me and to put us first. I just don’t feel that from you. No matter what promises you make, you just won’t sacrifice anything for me.” She paused again, choosing her words carefully. “I don’t think you love me enough.”

Lewis had no counterpoint, because on some level he knew her claim was true. He recalled how, during their wedding ceremony, the minister declared that in an ideal marriage each partner put the other first, loving one another more than themselves. Lewis never fully believed that, envisioning all of the abusive scenarios in which such a policy would lead to harm. He always thought of himself and Laura as a team, sharing everything equally. But he now realized that his vision was a fantasy. Laura did not want a partner. She wanted a follower.

Laura had never asked Lewis to risk anything until the move to New Haven. Not only had he not made much effort, he had never fully realized how much the request meant to her. Beneath her cool veneer of rationality, Laura Hennig yearned for a passionate lover who would place her above everything else, worshipping her in body and soul. Lewis idolized his wife’s intellect and beauty, but she was like a prize he had won by chance rather than earned through his own efforts. Now the prize was being revoked for poor performance.

They both sat on the bench, silently frozen like the ice before them. Laura stood up first. “It’s freezing out here. Why don’t we go back to the hotel and get warmed up?”

Lewis remained solidly in place. “We have the room until tomorrow,” he pointed out flatly. “Why don’t you go get your stuff and take a train back to New Haven?”

Laura absorbed his words. “Fine,” she said, walking away at a clipped pace.

He sat on the bench for a long time before heading back to the hotel. He wanted to make sure that she was gone, but he also wanted to avoid facing the loneliness of the room by himself; the room in which just a few hours earlier they had been joining their flesh as husband and wife.

For now, he preferred the comfort of a public setting, watching the skaters. The small unisex child was still on the ice, although moved a bit further away by its mother from the insane man spouting profanities at his wife. Lewis lost track of how many times the child fell down. Some kids might have given up, begging to go home, but this little one was quite resilient. Each time it fell down, it got up more quickly than the last, placed its skates firmly on the ice and tried to move forward, cautiously and carefully, lacking grace but with clear determination. Its gliding and falling pattern fell into a rhythmic march.
Swish. Bonk. Up. . . Swish. Bonk. Up.

As Lewis watched the child, hot tears streamed down his wind-chapped face.
Swish. . . . Bonk.

Chapter 11

History and Memories

Jane thrashed about, waking in a cold sweat, but confident for once that hot flashes were not to blame. She glanced at Mark, breathing deeply in his contented slumber. Feeling too restless to try to sleep again, she quietly slipped out of bed and went downstairs to the darkened den. Dana had left her favorite quilt on the sofa, a handmade childhood gift from Bubbe that the teenager still cuddled like a toddler. Jane pulled her knees up to her chin, wrapped the quilt around her and buried her nose in the fabric, breathing in the sweet scent of her child. The room remained dark, save for the glimmer of a security light that beamed above the basketball goal in the driveway. Jane turned toward the window, but her eyes could not focus on anything outside. Her mind could see only the flashes from her dream. Images of a face. A face she had tried to forget long, long ago.

They met for dinner the evening of his introduction, both dressed as they had been that afternoon. He was already waiting at a booth when she entered the small Chinese restaurant with brightly painted walls. He stood and motioned for her to sit down, offering the same sexy grin that she knew well from class. She pretended to carefully analyze the menu, finding it difficult to focus on the words without staring at the firm body seated across from her. He seemed oblivious to her nervousness, cheerfully suggesting items from the menu. Her mind struggled to think of something they might be able to discuss without emphasizing their roles as teacher and student. She need not have worried. With a few well-chosen questions and a beer in front of him, the young man took over most of the conversation. That was just as well with Jane, who found his sudden loquaciousness a good excuse to stare at her companion.

While making small talk over sweet and sour pork, she learned that, despite his youthful appearance, he was in fact a 21 year-old business major. He should be a junior by now, he confessed, but by taking the minimum number of courses each semester and lifeguarding full-time during the summers, his college career was progressing very slowly. His favorite pastime appeared to be attending concerts. He could tell her about every performance he had seen since freshman year and a few he had sneaked off to see in high school. He admitted that his pious parents had initially insisted on sending him to Baptist college, but after he got suspended during his first semester for throwing a keg party on the dry campus, they relented and let him attend his first choice, “the Godforsaken liberal pinko state university.”

He confessed to idolizing Jim Morrison, which explained much about his fashion sense. The boy talked on and on about Morrison’s genius and how the singer’s death was the culmination of his existential performance art. Jane tried not to reveal her amusement at this typical college student analysis of pop culture. She commented that he should have been a philosophy major, which he took as a compliment, noting that he would prefer that major to business if his parents would allow it. But since they would not and they were paying his tuition and rent, he had to follow their choice of a “useful” major. The young man did admit that he was learning some practical advice that might help his own business ventures. Jane did not bother to probe more deeply into his career interests. She shared very little about her background, content to enjoy gazing at the gorgeous young man in her presence who returned a penetrating stare and lascivious smile.

He insisted on paying for dinner and walking her to her pale green VW bug. A chill was forming in the air, which he used as an excuse to put his arm around her. As they reached the car, he carefully spun her around with her back against the door. Pausing momentarily to make sure she did not object, he leaned in for a long, deep kiss. A bit surprised by his boldness, she reciprocated with enthusiasm. She could feel the excitement in his jeans as he pressed himself against her. Never before had she kissed anyone like that on the first date.

After a few moments he leaned back. “So,” he asked breathlessly, “Where do ya wanna go now?”

She was sorely tempted to name the nearest motel, but thought better of it. “Uh, I’d better get home. I still have some work to do.”