By the time David left the warmth and familiarity of the academic building and entered the cold curtain of falling snow, the storm had intensified. He’d had a few things to do in his office before leaving and he hadn’t expected it to be this bad already. With the exception of a few cars at the far end, the parking lot was vacant. He started across the lot, head lowered against the wind-driven snow, and remembered when he, Connie, and the boys would spend hours in their backyard during snowstorms, plopping themselves onto the snow and fanning out snow angels, rolling up gigantic bottoms and abdomens and heads of snow for snowmen, stockpiling snow balls for their epic battles (David and Josh against Connie and Julian), and lying in their red plastic sleds while gazing up at the snow falling into their eyes, ending the snowy days by cooking hotdogs on the outside fireplace and making s’mores in semi-darkness, the light reflected off the snow from the fire and the moonlight providing all the illumination they needed.
At the Caddy, he opened the driver’s door and got in, dropping his briefcase onto the passenger seat. He started the engine, reached behind for the brush and scraper on the rear floor, and got out to take care of the snow and ice that had accumulated on the windows. Minutes later he was pulling out of the parking space. Across the lot, a woman standing next to a car with its hood propped up waved at him. It was Teri. When he turned the Caddy in her direction she put her hands in her coat pockets and started jack-hammering up and down. David pulled up next to her and lowered his window.
“Trouble again?” He glanced at her car.
Teri nodded. “It won’t start. Just like this morning. One of the students tried jump starting it a few minutes ago, but I guess I must have really killed the battery this time. Not even any clicking noises like this morning.” Teri stopped the jackhammering and stood with her hands in her pockets. She shrugged her shoulders and offered up a sheepish grin.
“Let me give it a try. I’ll pull the car around and—”
“No, David, don’t. It’s no use. I don’t want to waste any more time out here, I’m cold, and I’d really just like to get to a motel here in town and deal with it tomorrow. Can you give me a lift? I think there’s a motel down the road a mile or two, isn’t there?”
There was a motel not too far away, and it was wise of Teri to choose that rather than try driving twenty miles to her home in Leominster. It looked as though Alexander had made the right call after all as the snow showed no signs of letting up anytime soon. It was coming down harder now, and the wind was starting to swirl it around them.
“Yes, there is. Get your stuff and I’ll give you a ride.”
Teri nodded and turned toward her Honda. David watched her open the back door and lean in to get her bags. He knew he should look away, but he did not. He watched the snowflakes fall and land on her golden hair and found himself lost in thoughts of ‘what if’. Teri was attractive. Any wife would be justified in being jealous if her husband worked with a woman who looked like Teri. Any wife except Connie. Teri had nothing on her. Connie was more attractive in a self-assured way; she was wiser, mature, and secure.
However, given the current state of affairs in his marriage, maybe a little jealousy would be a good thing. Maybe he wanted Connie to be jealous. Teri turned and caught David looking at her. She smiled, and he returned it.
Teri opened the rear door to the Caddy and placed her bags on the floor. She closed the door, David moved the briefcase to the rear seat, and Teri got in the car.
“Thanks, chief.” She pulled her coat inside and closed the door. “I owe you for this.”
David looked at her. He quashed the joke that came to mind as he put the car in gear. Before driving out of the lot he put the Caddy in park and turned to Teri.
Teri arched her eyebrows. “What gives?”
“Why don’t you stay at my house?”
David thought he saw one corner of her mouth turn upward, but then quickly lower itself. “You know, that’s a generous offer, and I appreciate it, but I can’t do that. It’d be too much of an imposition.”
“No.” David shook his head. “No imposition at all. Save a few bucks and stay at my house tonight.”
“But….” Teri bit her lower lip.
“But, what?”
“Come on, David. I’m not naïve, and neither are you.”
David turned in his seat to fully face her, resting an arm on the steering wheel. “All I’m saying is there’s no sense in paying for a motel when we have a spare room you can stay in. Connie can cook up a nice warm meal and tomorrow we’ll pick up a new battery for your car on our way back here.” David looked out the windshield at the falling snow, then back at Teri.
“You’re sure this will be OK with your wife?”
“Don’t worry about her. She enjoys company.”
Teri gave a resigned smirk and rested her hands on her thighs. “Guess I really owe you now.” She leaned forward to warm her hands by the vents, and when she did her coat slipped off her leg, revealing the blue skirt hiked up her thigh. David stole a glimpse before looking away and pulling out of the lot.
The two of them rode in silence, the cadence of the wipers marking off time. David couldn’t tell if it was a comfortable silence between two colleagues who had worked together the past year, had grown to be good friends, and didn’t feel the need to force a conversation, or two people that had only ever interacted with one another within the professional context of academia, now forced out of their comfort zones and unable to carry on a normal conversation.
Teri continued warming her hands. David fidgeted in his seat. Finally, he thought of something to say.
“You had Ted Brimfield last year.”
“Ah…yeah, I did. Why?”
“At the beginning of the semester he was a good student. Paid attention, took notes, got mostly B’s. He’s done a complete turnaround since we got back from Christmas break and now he’s flunking my class.”
“Hmm….” Teri sat back in the seat, placing her hands on her skirt, tugging at the hem. “That’s not too surprising.”
David glanced at her, then focused back on the road. “Why do you say that?”
Teri shrugged. “Well, with his home life the way it is, it’s just not surprising he isn’t focused on solving quadratic equations.”
“His home life?” David slowed the Caddy as they approached an intersection. He eased it into a left turn.
“Yeah.”
“I don’t understand.”
“His father left the day before Christmas. No warning signs. The guy left a short note written on a napkin saying he would always love them but he couldn’t do ‘this’ anymore. Now it’s Ted, his two six-year-old sisters, and his mother.”
“How do you know this?”
“I asked him.”
David cocked his head. “You asked him?”
“Um, yeah.”
David tapped the brakes, turned right, tapped the brakes again, and stopped at the light. He turned in his seat toward Teri. “What did you do? Pull him aside one day and say, ‘Hey, Ted, your old man still living with you?’”
“No, David, that’s not what I did. After the Christmas break I noticed he wasn’t the same person as at the beginning of the semester, so I invited him to my office and I asked him what was going on.”
“How did you notice that? He’s not in any of your classes.”
“I see him in the halls every day.” Teri paused. “I pay attention.”
The light turned green. David faced forward and eased the Caddy across the intersection.
“David, you’re not a stupid man, and you’re usually more observant than most professors, which makes it all the more unbelievable that you didn’t notice the drastic personality change in one of your own students.”
“I did notice.” As soon as he said it, David knew he’d responded too quickly.
Teri turned back in her seat, looking straight out the windshield. “Ted is considering quitting college so he can get a full-time job to support his family.” She glanced sideways at David. “Did you know that?”
David paused before answering. “No.”
“Huh.” Teri glanced out the side window. “So, if you did notice the changes in Ted, why didn’t you say anything to him?” She turned toward David. “Why not ask him about them? Maybe you would have found out about him quitting school.”
“Teri,” David cast a look at her then focused back on the snowy road, “it isn’t my job to pry into my students’ personal lives. It’s to teach them mathematics, not be their therapists.” The words came out more forceful than he’d intended, but Teri’s attitude was getting to him.
Moments passed before Teri responded. “In case you didn’t notice, my job also is to teach my students mathematics. But, I also pay attention to anything that might hinder the teaching process, and for me, that includes what happens both inside and outside my classroom. If I see, or even suspect, that something might be hindering one of my students, or even former students, you can be sure I’ll find out what it is. I consider that part of my job.”
Where was this coming from? The last thing David had expected was to get into a verbal sparring match. It was bad enough he got this at home from Connie. The wipers continued beating out their cadence, marking more silence between them. The snow fell. The wind blew.
“Teri, listen. I didn’t—”
“You used to be the same way, David. You used to care for your students. Remember how you would take them, two at a time, to lunch in the cafeteria to get to know them? You treated them like they were your own—” Teri caught herself, paused, then continued in a different direction with a softer tone. “I know that—” She stopped herself again, closing her mouth and shaking her head.
“Know what? That I used to care for my students, as if I now don’t? What?”
Teri crossed her arms. “Never mind.”
David slowed as the car in front of them fish-tailed. He looked to Teri, his brow furrowed. “No. Say it.”
Teri paused another moment before speaking. “I know that what happened with Josh affected you in ways that—”
David jerked the Caddy out of line and cut across the right lane, ignored the blaring horn from behind them, and shot into the parking lot of the L’il Peach convenience store. He swerved into a parking spot and slammed the car into park.
“I know how I used to teach.” He turned in his seat and leaned on the center armrest. “I know how I now teach. And I know how what happened to my son affected me. You know nothing.” David turned forward, put the car in gear, and looked straight ahead. He backed out of the parking spot, spun the wheel, and shot the Caddy back into traffic.
Teri reached into the back seat for her bags. “You can drop me off at the next corner. I’ll—”
“Teri, don’t be silly. Look around you. Where are you going to go in this mess?”
Teri did look around. There was nothing besides the convenience store. They were not yet in David’s neighborhood, they were far away from the motel, and it appeared the storm was just getting started. She released the bags and let them fall to the rear floor.
Silence blanketed them the rest of the ride to the Schofield house.