The Eyes and Ears of Love (9 page)

“Good, well. That was easy. I am going to go now,” she says, smiling slowly. “You swear you’ll go?”

Dorothy rolls her eyes. “I said yes, didn’t I?”
              Donna nods with narrowed eyes. “Okay. Okay, great!”

“Hey, why don’t you stay and keep me company? There is twenty minutes before class starts.”

“I would, but I have an errand to run. Well, I love you and have an awesome day!” she says, giving her a thumbs up. “Friday night!” she yells, as she disappears into the hallway.

The class fills. Twenty minutes after eight, professor Bloomington has yet to show. Even Janessa showed up before him, possibly for the first time ever. Five more minutes pass and professor Bloomington walks in with a half tucked in, wrinkled shirt. 

“I greatly apologize class, my wife and I had a rough morning with the baby, and to top it off, we ran out of coffee!” he says, amused at himself. A couple of studentschuckle. “But let's go ahead and start off this class righ
t
.
I would just like to brag about one of my students for a second. Dorothy, will you please stand?”

Dorothy's face turns blood-red as over one hundred students turn to stare at her.

“Dorothy has a 103% in my class right now. She has yet to get a single test question wrong. I believe this young lady deserves a round of applause for truly going the extra mile.”

She awkwardly smiles at Professor Bloomington along with the class as they give her a steady applause.

“You may have a seat now, Dorothy. I brought up Dorothy's efforts because I would like to announce an upcoming opportunity that will require her kind of dedication. Raise your hand if you have heard of the owner of Sweetpea's House of Baked Good's, Bobby Frier?”

Every hand shoots up. 

It’s a world famous bakery located forty minutes from the university. The average waiting time to order is an hour and a half. People travel from across the world just to wait in line to try something made by Bobby Frier.

“Well, Bobby happens to be a close friend of mine,” says Mr. Bloomington. The class gasps and whispers. “He has agreed to take on an intern, a student, from this class.”

A girl in front of Dorothy lets out a little scream of excitement. A few people laugh in reaction, while the remainder of the class continues murmuring.

Dorothy looks at Janessa, both of their eyes wide with disbelief.

“You will have until ten o’clock this Friday night to invent your own pie recipe and baking instructions. You must turn in a printed copy of the ingredients and instructions along with the homemade pie. I will evaluate the precise measurements of your ingredients, the thoroughness of your instructions, and the taste of the pie itself. The only rule I have is the preparation and baking time must be no longer than one hour. There is a grade for this project regardless of whether you pursue the internship or not. You are dismissed until next Monday’s class so you have plenty of time to get started and practice for this project. Enjoy the rest of your week!”

Every day of the following week is consumed by baking while continuing to stay an extra two hours late every night. Friday night quickly approaches.

She prints off the final copy of her pie recipe from her laptop printer in the dorm.

“Are you still going to that fraternity party tonight?” Janessa pries.

“Yeah, right after I turn in my project to Professor Bloomington.”

“Well, be careful,” Janessa murmurs.

Dorothy turns to look at her and sees Janessa biting her nails
.
“Hey! Janessa, I’m going to be fine. Besides, if you’re that freaked out about it, why don’t you just go with me like I’ve asked a hundred times now?”

“I don’t do parties. Karaoke bars are my limit.”

“I don’t get it. I thought you were the definition of a partyholic.”

“You would think, huh? I use to party a lot in high school and the only thing it did was get me in a shitload of trouble. I know its college, but that probably just means the parties are longer, and more intense.”

Dorothy was amazed; Janessa continued to surprise her. “You’re seriously scaring me!”

“Just be safe. Don’t drink or do any drugs and you’ll be fine.” She smiles.

“Anything else, mom?” Dorothy drones, smirking at her.

“Don’t let the driver drink!”

Dorothy stares dully at her. “Well, obviously, Janessa.”

Janessa digs in her closet, tossing clothes over her shoulder, she asks, “How’s the pie recipe coming?”

“It’s good. I perfected the ingredients and baking instructions all week. I don’t think I’ve missed anything. I plan to make it and turn it in right before the party.”

“I can’t believe you waited until the last day before the deadline to turn it in!”

Dorothy winks at her. “That’s why I am going to win the internship, babe!”

“Bring it on, bitch!” Janessa chuckles. “My pie’s going to win the first prize. And if my mermaid chocolate pie isn’t enough, I have some other pie to offer him,” she says, raising her eyebrows.

Dorothy rolls her eyes and makes a gagging motion. Janessa throws a pillow at her.

Janessa’s snark melts back into a genuine smile. “Well, like I said, have fun and make good decisions! I’m going to the Cat Lounge for poetry night.”

“Bye,” Dorothy says as Janessa departs, blowing a kiss.

Dorothy grabs a blue sweater from her closet and puts it on, looking at the effect in the mirror.

“You are not wearing
that,
are you?” Donna snaps as she barges in her room.

“Do you ever knock?” Dorothy asks. “And yes, why do you care?”

“You’re my sister; I have a reputation to uphold!” She walks to Janessa’s closet and pulls out a white mini skirt and a white midriff top. She lays it out on the bed and looks at Dorothy for approval.

“Oh, no!” Dorothy declines, making an X with her index fingers.

“Oh come on! Don’t you ever get tired of constantly covering up with all the sweaters and that hideous culinary uniform?”

“No! I actually find my culinary uniform to be rather appealing.” Donna doesn’t say anything. Dorothy sees the perfect chance to shift the conversation. She’s been wanting to ask this question for weeks. “So, am I going to ever meet this guy?”

“What guy?” Donna asks frantically.

“Donna, you have been glowing this entire month. I’ve only seen you glow like this when you have a new boyfriend.”

“Glowing? Me?”

“Mmm-hmm! And you’re always disappearing in the middle of things. You left that movie early last week, and you’re glued to your phone.”

“There isn’t a man in my life Dorothy! Trust me. Let’s go back to talking about you, I like talking about you.”

“Ok, whatever” she nods, “but I know you’ll tell me.”

Donna forces a change in the subject. “What time do you want to head to the party tonight?”

“That’s what I was going to talk to you about. I have a project to finish tonight.”

“You’re bailing?” she snaps.

“No! I just need two hours; I’ll be done by ten.”

“Oh, that’s early, I actually have something to do too, but I should be done no later than eleven.”

“What do you have to do?”

Donna reaches for the door. “Well, I have to go. Wear that outfit,” she says, pointing to Janessa’s clothes on the bed.

“Wait!” Dorothy shrieks. “What do you have to do?”

“Love you! Bye!” Donna says before slamming the door shut.             

Dorothy says aloud, “what the hell is she hiding?”

Still wondering, she glances at the clock, 8:06 p.m. “shit!”

She grabs everything she needs and throws the outfit her sister picked out into her backpack and hurries to the culinary kitchen on the other side of campus.

She stands in front of the marble counter in the culinary kitchen. It is covered with empty bowls and fresh ingredients. She wants this internship so badly her fingers are shaking. She retrieves her iPod from her back pocket and scrolls to her favorite cooking music, the Everly Brothers. She inserts her headphones, grabs her apron and ties it around her.

***

Right outside the kitchen behind the two steel swinging doors, Bentley approaches the windows, keeping his knees bent so only his forehead and eyes are visible.

“Right on time!” he says, knowing she can’t hear him. 

She cuts four limes directly down the middle and squeezes them one by one into a bowl. She shakes her hips.

Bentley smiles.

She takes a sheet of graham cracker and puts one hand on top of the other, crushing the cracker. Her chest protrudes, and Ben immediately looks away from the window. He waits several minutes before looking back.

She pours the graham cracker into a separate bowl. Folding in butter and sugar with her hands. She twirls herself over to the oven closest to the steel doors and twists a dial on the oven.

Ben drops to the floor so he won’t be seen.

After a few seconds he peeks back up through the window and watches her mix ingredients in a bowl with a wire whisk. She takes the graham cracker crumbs and spreads them across a glass pie dish. She stops dancing and focuses delicately on making the crust as smooth and perfect as possible. Opening the bag of fresh raspberries, she holds the bag up to her nose and inhales the aroma. She places the raspberries into the pie dish one by one and then cuts a lemon down the middle and squeezes the juice over the berries. She takes the lime juice batter and pours it over the berries.

Ben looks at the hallway clock, 9:22 p.m. He hasn’t even started mopping yet. He doesn’t want to; there was something even more special about her tonight than any other night and his eyes are glued to her.

She presses her hands to her face and stares at the uncooked pie. Bentley can sense her pride, he inches closer and closer to the glass window. His heart is beating unbearably fast. The oven beeps, seeming to snap her from her trance, and she picks up the pie gently to put it in.

Bentley ducks. When he comes back up she is facing away from the window, sitting on the dirty counter, waiting.

She eventually jumps off the counter and goes over to her backpack, her back still facing the window. She pulls out a seductive outfit. She takes out her headphones.

Bentley stands up straight, bearing his entire facial structure in the window. Before he even realizes what she’s doing, she is already struggling to remove her skintight jeans, exposing her white lace panties. He looks down taking several breaths while fidgeting with his hands. He knows how wrong this is, but not looking requires a level of self-control he doesn’t have. Quickly turning back to the window, now so close, he fogs the window with his breath. She pulls the blue sweater off over her head, exposing a matching white lace bra. Bentley’s breathing becomes even more irregular and fast. She puts on the white mini skirt and white midriff top. He observes her twisting and adjusting the top to no avail.

The timer goes off and she grabs her oven mitts. Bentley, still in a daze, forgets to duck. She begins to pull the pie out of the oven when she sees him staring at her through the kitchen window. Their eyes lock. Her hands tremble, the pie slips through her mitts. He runs from the window before hearing the pie hit the tiled floor in the kitchen.

***

“Shit,” she shrieks. All she can do is stand and stare, paralyzed, at the ruined pie on the floor. She finally snaps into action, taking pieces of the scorching hot pie over to the counter. She knows she can’t serve food that has touched the floor, but there is no time to start over. Taking the biggest remaining chunks of the pie, she cuts them into bite-sized squares. They look messy and unprofessional. Her eyes begin to water. She tries trimming and cutting the pie in order to make them more presentable. She manages to create seven squares and sprinkles powdered sugar on top to give them some kind of continuity.

She looks at the clock, 10:30 p.m.

Please be there. Please me there.
She repeats frantically to herself as she rushes to Mr. Bloomington’s classroom.  

She feels like she has been running miles before she actually reaches the room. Her heart sinks as she sees the door is closed and the blinds are down on the door’s window. However, she does see light shining out from a tiny spot of open window through the blinds. She peeks through the crack and it takes a moment to process what she’s seeing. Mr. Bloomington is naked on his desk, with a woman under him. Dorothy’s eyes widen, when she recognizes the woman’s ankle bracelet, a silver bangle. The same silver bangle she gave her sister for Christmas last year.

Donna.

Dorothy’s breath begins to shorten and her entire body feels a rush of heat. She feels faint. It’s obviously consensual, she watches as her sister assertively kisses him, a married man, without any hesitation at all. Dorothy’s eyes fill with tears. She desperately wants to look away. Her hearing vanishes for a moment, accompanied by a ringing in her ears. Her vision completely blurs and her knees quake. She wishes it wasn’t Donna, she wishes it was someone else, anybody else but her. She pulls her face away from the window, rotating with her back to the wall. She holds the pie with one hand and her tightening chest with the other. The pie bites slip from her hand and the loud noise of glass shattering brings her mind back to her body. She reacts quickly to the broken glass by running instinctively, one foot in front of the other, trying to grasp distance in order to escape what she can’t forget she saw. She reaches the dorms distant from the culinary building and slows her run to a steady walk.

***

Murphy approaches Bentley, “Well I was here to dismiss you for the night, but then I went into the kitchen. What the hell happened in there? Did you see the young lady, talk to her at all about the mess?”

Bentley shrugs his shoulders, unable to fabricate a lie so the woman wouldn’t be held responsible, but he couldn’t think of anything.

Murphy sighs, “Well you are going to have to stay and help me clean up.”

They walk to the kitchen together.

She is mad
, Bentley thinks.
She has to be, why else would she leave the kitchen like this?
He sweeps the broken glass and envisions her standing in the corner. 

“Got any plans tonight?” Murphy asks loudly.

Bentley shakes his head.

“Well, just stay out of trouble, I heard chatter in the hallways about a big party tonight at some fraternity house.”

“That’s why she changed into those clothes,” Bentley whispers.

“Huh?” Murphy cups his left ear.

“Nothing,” Bentley mutters.

Bentley realizes that he had to go to the party, too. He had to explain himself to her. He knew where it would be: the Delta House Fraternity, his old teammate’s house, and the same teammates he hasn’t talked to since quitting the team over six months ago.

Bentley rushes to finish cleaning the kitchen.

***

Dorothy makes her way up a flight of stairs to the second floor where Donna’s dorm is. She knocks on Donna’s dorm knowing she isn’t home. Julie answers.

“Oh hey girl, you look hot!” Julie compliments her.

“Are you ready?” Dorothy asks frantically.

“Ready for what?” Julie asks.

“The party.”

“Um, yes, but Donna isn’t here yet…”