Tenure Track (52 page)

Chapter 27

Revisiting the Past

Perry was still angry and perplexed about Jane’s calling him out on his slurs. It was not so much that she told him to change his behavior. He knew he was out of line. He just enjoyed irking his colleagues by testing the boundaries of their political correctness. Jane had always understood this. Her request did not bother him as much as the stern manner in which she had delivered it. He would have been much more receptive if she had just said,
Knock it off with the fag quips, Pere.
Had their relationship really deteriorated so much that she needed to treat him more like an underling than a friend?

Expecting more of the same, he was in a haughty mood when she dropped by his office. “Good day, Madame Chair. To what do I owe this honored visit? Did I piss off someone today? You said I could still use the b-word, or is that out now, too?” he asked snidely as he flipped through a mediocre senior thesis on the Salem Witch Trials.

“
Perry,” she began, “I’m sorry I jumped on you. I was out of line. Well, you were out of line, but you know that. I should have handled it better. I’m sorry.”

He still wasn’t quite ready to forgive, though he did look up from the paper. “Okay,” he said, removing his reading glasses.

“
It’s just. . . just. . . . Well, there’s been a lot going on at home.” She could feel her voice begin to crack. Realizing that something serious was up, Perry stood and offered a comforting pat on the arm while she composed herself enough to talk. She sympathized with the difficulty Dana must have had in forming the words. Perry waited patiently for the mysterious bomb to drop.

She finally spit it out: “Dana came out.”

Perry, never usually at a loss for words, said nothing. Staring into his dear friend’s troubled eyes, everything came into focus. As he hugged her and patted her back, she held on tightly, weeping softly on his shoulder. The tears released months’ worth of stress over her children, work, and marriage. Her friend understood that, allowing her the release she needed. After hugging for what seemed an eternity, Perry lifted up her chin with two fingers and dabbed her eyes with a tissue. “This is not a conversation we should be having sober,” he declared.

There was a time when Jane would have immediately told Perry about Dana, not just because he was gay, but because he was a trusted member of the family. He had earned that honor by protecting her darkest secret.

She had never intended to tell anyone about the abortion, save for her trustworthy fellow alumna and ob-gyn. Those had been among the loneliest days of her life. As she counted the minutes until the scheduled operation, she had gone into a self-imposed exile. Thinking she was angry with him for some reason, Perry finally caught her in her office a few days after classes ended, furiously grading a batch of term papers. His friendly salutation of “Knock, knock!” nearly caused her to jump through the ceiling. She dismissed it as frazzled nerves from too much coffee.

“
Uh-huh. So, Little Missy,” he said, folding his arms across his chest, “Why have you been avoiding me? Did I say something to offend?”

“
I’m sorry, Pere. I’ve just been swamped with work and I’m leaving town in a couple of days. . . .”

“
Oh poo! We all have grading to do.” He waved one hand in the air. “That’s no excuse for ignoring your friends. Mark’s just heartbroken that you haven’t been returning his calls. Don’t tell me you’ve turned into a snob!”

Just as would happen in her office 32 years later, she fell to pieces before his eyes. Her face turned red as the tears welled up, releasing the flood of her misery. There was no way to stop the trickle of water that began to leak down her face.

“
Oh, Janey, I’m so sorry!” Perry ran over to her side and gently took her by the shoulders as he pulled more than enough tissues out of a box on her desk. “What’s wrong? Did somebody die?”

“
Not yet!” she blurted, then burst into a fit of inappropriate laughter, so that she was simultaneously giggling and sobbing.

“
God, you’re not going to commit suicide are you?” Although Perry was semi-serious, his question made her laugh even harder. Between the laughter and the tears, she found it impossible to speak clearly. “Well, come on, what is it?” he beckoned.

When she could finally get the words out, she confessed everything. Once she started, she talked without ceasing until her brain suddenly registered who was listening. “Oh, Perry, you can’t tell anyone! I’m serious. This isn’t something I want spread all over campus!”

“
Janey, Janey. I never dish about people I love. And I love you most of all, Scarecrow. Come here and let Uncle Perry make it better.” He gave her a friendly, gentle squeeze, which she returned, dripping tears and snot down the front of his designer shirt. She apologized for her behavior, leading him to quip, “That’s okay, I like soggy shirts. It’s the drowning disco look. Very chic.” She chuckled through her tears, then sat up.

Leaning his forehead against hers, he quietly asked, “Are you sure this is what you want to do?” She nodded. “Does the father-to-be even know?”

“
No, and you can never tell him!” she ordered.

“
Oh, heaven forbid! I don’t even know the young man. He sounds like a turd. Well, I’d offer to marry you, but my fiancé might object. Bigamy’s still illegal.” She laughed at the pseudo-proposal. “Hey, we could ask Mark. He’s mad about you. I bet he’d do it. He’d make a great father!”

“
NO!” she yelled. “And you can’t tell him, either! No one. You’ve got to swear it, Perry! I mean it!”

“
Cross my heart!” He marked an “X” with his index finger to seal the promise.

“
I’m not looking for a husband,” she insisted. “I just want to forget this thing ever happened.”

Perry would not let her remain alone, helping finish her grading, then insisting on taking her out for dinner. “I’m craving Mexican,” he said, making her wince slightly at his word choice. “And you won’t be able to get any of the good stuff in New York or England. You’ll be lucky to find a spice rack in London! I hear that Chug pub has good south-of-the-border food.”

The duo walked arm-in-arm across campus to the Chug-a-Lug. Just breathing in the fresh evening air made Jane feel better. Half the time she closed her eyes and let her companion lead the way. Whether by intention or coincidence, the path Perry chose took them right by Austin Hall, home of the Math Department. Realizing where their journey was headed, Jane gave her friend a piercing look.

“
Oh, come on,” Perry insisted. “He’ll be so hurt if you don’t at least say goodbye.” They walked the corridors until they spotted Mark mingling with some fellow Math nerds.

“
Hi, ho! It’s off to summer we go!” Perry shouted as Mark’s face broke into a huge grin at the sight of them.

Jane apologized profusely for ignoring his calls, excusing herself with the overabundance of paperwork. Before she knew it, the mathematician was joining them on their hike to the Chug-a-Lug. Although she felt a bit uncomfortable being around him, having Mark present at least guaranteed lighter conversation. Perry said nothing more about her predicament, instead making her cry tears of laughter at his exaggerated anecdotes. Diving into a bowl of toasted tortilla chips with spicy salsa, she realized that for the first time in days she was not nauseous. Perhaps just not dwelling on the pregnancy was improving her appetite.

Yet she could not escape reality completely. Every time she thought her friends had completely rescued her mind, something else would draw her back to the tiny seed she was preparing to expel from her body. It could be the smallest detail, such as the moment she stumbled when ordering a margarita before realizing that she needn’t worry about harming the fetus. Almost as if he was reading her mind, Perry declared, “You know, tonight is the perfect evening for getting hammered! Let’s do like the kids and tie one on to celebrate the end of the semester. Waitress, bring us a pitcher of margaritas and another of sangria,
andele, andele!”
He turned to Mark. “I assume our teetotaling friend here will be able to escort us home safely tonight.”

“
Only if the three of us can fit on my bike,” Mark declared, to which Perry instantly produced the keys to his Mustang.

“
You do have a valid driver’s license, don’t you?” Perry quizzed. Convinced that a sober Mark who rarely drove was still safer than either inebriated companion behind the wheel, Dr. Waters relinquished his keys.

Mark spoke of his plans to teach summer school and travel with a group of students to Georgia to help build a Habitat house. Listening to his noble plans only made Jane feel worse about her less-than-noble activities.
He’s such a good guy, and I’m such a bad girl. I don’t deserve him as a friend.
Every time Perry sensed the gloom overtaking her, he started in on yet another funny story and poured one more glass from their shared pitchers.

By the time the trio finished splitting a plate of sopapillas, Perry and Jane were far beyond toasty, giggling and laughing like hyenas, loud enough to incur a friendly visit to their table from the manager. Convinced they would drink no more and had a safe ride home, he left them alone. “What a poo poo!” Perry whispered loudly, sending Jane into another giggling frenzy.

By the time they reached Jane’s apartment, Perry was quietly dozing on her shoulder in the backseat, with Mark up front acting as chauffeur. Arriving at their destination, she eased the heavy head of her sleeping companion off her shoulder and onto the seat. Mark gallantly offered to walk her to her front door, but she barely made it three steps out of the car when a familiar wave of nausea hit. She stumbled a couple of feet before vomiting a bitter concoction of tequila, sangria, and cheese enchiladas all over some bushes. Mark dashed over to help hold her up as the entire contents of her insides spewed forth. Finally convinced that there could not possibly be anything left in her system to disgorge, she stood up.

Mark chivalrously pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped her face. “Are you going to be okay?” That simple, caring question unleashed more tears. “Is there anything I can do?” he offered, to which she just shook her head.

“
I think I just need a good night’s sleep,” she lied. “I have some Valium. That should help.”

“
Okay, but be careful with that stuff. Chamomile tea is really better for you,” he advised.

Her bleary, bloodshot eyes looked him up and down. Here was the sweetest guy, offering her a handkerchief, a shoulder to cry on, and advice on how to get a good night’s sleep.
Why couldn’t I have fallen for someone like him instead of wasting my time on that boy?
She could just imagine what Mark would say if a woman were pregnant with his child. He would surely offer marriage or at least a hand to hold during the procedure. This was a man who could be counted on. A
mensch,
as Bubbe would say. He never knew that she began falling in love with him at that moment.

Perry also proved to be a
mensch,
checking on her constantly throughout the summer. Once she returned that fall, they never spoke of the situation again.

Now they sat at the Chug-a-Lug, as they had so many times when they were younger, splitting a pitcher of margaritas, crying, and laughing over details of their lives. Except now they felt rather out of place, being the oldest patrons among a sea of students and young faculty. Other than the bar owners, it seemed no one over the age of 40 came to the Chug. They joked about getting busted for being
over
the age limit to drink. But being with Perry made Jane feel young again. They ceased to be two graying, wrinkled old scholars, retro-aging into two young teachers, newly arrived on campus, dreaming of one day achieving tenure.

As they laughed together, Perry revealed confessions of his own. “Justin wants to make an honest man out of me.”

“
Excuse me?” Jane asked, almost choking on her drink.

“
Yep. He wants us to fly to Iowa and get married, then honeymoon in San Francisco just to spite the state of California. He’s never been to Frisco. Can you believe that? A 31 year-old gay man whose never made a pilgrimage to the queer Mecca! What is this world coming to? It used to be a rite of passage. You weren’t really gay until you had crossed the threshold. ”

He smiled at the sweet memory of his hedonistic young adventures. “Oh. I remember those days, the pre-plague days, when I was still in the closet. I was fascinated by that city’s decadence. The West Coast Sodom! I submitted a paper to every conference held in that town, just for an excuse to be there. That should have been my first clue that I was gay. Well, that and all those men I was boffing in the bathhouses. Of course, I always pretended San Francisco sex didn’t count. You know, when in Rome, do as the Romans!”

Jane allowed him a moment to savor the reminiscence, much of which she had heard before. The revelation about Justin was new, however. At this point she had drunk just enough of the sweet-salty tequila elixir to lose her inhibitions. “So are you going to accept Justin’s proposal? Take a stand for gay rights?” she quizzed.

“
I’ve done enough standing for the cause, thank you very much!” Perry replied, then grimaced, as if the mere thought of a proposal caused him physical pain. “Oh, Janey, I just don’t think I’m the marrying kind. ‘Been there, done that. I don’t think it‘d be any different with a man. This younger generation is so different. Back in my day it was all about expression.” She gave him a knowing look.