David half steered, half slid the Caddy into the driveway. The car made a valiant effort at climbing up the incline, its wheels spinning in the accumulating snow, but eventually it settled for making it only half-way up. David gunned the gas, saw it was no use, threw the shifter into park, and set the parking brake. The Caddy slid backwards a couple feet before coming to rest inches from the end of the driveway. That would have to do.
“Sorry for the inconvenience.” He didn’t look at Teri when he said it. She didn’t respond. As rude as he’d been to her, he couldn’t blame her. Like a lot of things that came out of his mouth lately, he hadn’t intended to say the things he’d said to her, nor had he intended to adopt the tone he had. He opened the door and eased out of the driver’s seat as the snow blew around him, white flakes falling onto the black leather seat cushion. He closed the door and steadied himself against the car as he made his way around the front end, watching where he placed his feet. The wind drove the snow into his body, stinging his face.
David looked up at a passing car and regretted it immediately. His feet slipped out from under him and he fell. His legs slid completely under the front end of the Caddy. He struggled to stand, and when he finally worked his way out from under the car, he brushed the wet snow off his coat and pants. Finding secure footing on the crusty snow at the edge of the driveway and lawn, David extended a hand toward Teri who was opening her door.
“I can manage.” Teri exited the Caddy holding on to the door with both hands, apparently taking her cue from David’s fall. She left her bags in the car and closed the door. She took one step and slipped, but caught herself before she fell.
David offered his hand again. “Here. Take it.”
This time, Teri took it. Together they inched their way up the edge of the driveway where the crusted snow gave better traction. They leaned into the wind-whipped snow, stepped, slid, stumbled. Their arms flailed once, twice, and by the time they made it to the front steps the two of them, like two children playing in the snow, couldn’t hold back from laughing any longer.
David opened the front door for Teri. In the entryway she brushed the snow off her hair and coat and turned to allow David to enter the house before she did. She caught him scanning the neighborhood.
“Afraid of what the neighbors will think?”
David snapped his head around. “What? What do you…oh. About us? No. What is there for them to think?”
Their eyes held each other for a moment before Teri shrugged off her coat and handed it to David. He slid his off and hung both of them on the coat rack next to the door. David took off his shoes and motioned for Teri to do the same. “If you don’t mind. I prefer not to track in the snow and sand. Makes it easier for Connie to clean.”
“Sure, chief.” Teri bent over and took off one shoe. “Anything to make the wife’s job easier.” She tilted her head up at David, winked as she took off the other shoe, and dropped them both on the rubber mat under the coat rack.
David put his shoes next to hers, unsure how to take that last remark of Teri’s. Had there been sarcasm in her voice? She had never disparaged Connie before, and he found it hard to believe she would do so now, especially in his home. Still pondering the comment, he led her through the hallway and into the house.
David stopped at the doorway that led into the living room and turned to face Teri. “Truth be told, it’s me who’s the cleanliness freak. Not Connie.”
Teri planted her hands on her hips and tilted her head.
David looked at her. For a moment she looked like a pouting teenage girlfriend trying to decipher what was going on inside him, what his true motives were for inviting her to stay at his house. What are my motives? David thought. I’m just helping out a colleague who otherwise might have been stranded in the middle of a snow storm. It’s completely innocent. Connie would understand. I’m only helping a colleague in trouble.
David entered the living room and turned to face Teri. “I need to set something straight.” He put his hands together, extended his index fingers, and held them to his chin. “I had no business saying what I said in the car. I like working with you, and I can appreciate the differences in our teaching styles.” David lowered his hands to his sides, palms out. “I snapped at you. I’m sorry.”
Teri smiled. She brushed strands of blond, wet hair away from her eyes. “It’s OK. You’re under a lot of stress right now. I get it.”
David nodded, started to turn to sit on the leather couch, but stopped when he felt Teri’s hand on his shoulder. It took every amount of self-control he possessed to not jump out of his skin. He turned toward her.
“Thanks.” She held onto his shoulder a moment longer before letting go. David glanced at his shoulder, as if looking for a residual effect, then smiled at Teri and turned toward the couch. He felt relieved…and, disappointed?...that all she said was thanks.
“Wow.” Teri did a three-sixty, taking in the room. “You know, I hadn’t figured you for the high-tech sort.” She checked out the entertainment center that housed the television, stereo components, and one of those new VCR contraptions. She ran her hand over one of the towering floor speakers that flanked the setup. Her eyes widened at the leather sofa with matching love seat and recliner. She ran her fingertips along the arm of the loveseat, as if she were teasing it. Was she teasing him? “Funny. You work with a guy for a year, discuss quadratic equations and sine and cosine and polynomial functions, and you hardly know anything about what his interior decorating tastes are like.”
“Well, this is it.” David swept out an arm like a model on The Price is Right showing off the latest prize and spun himself down onto the sofa. He immediately felt ashamed for showing off. “It’s not much, really. Rather Spartan I think, yet it’s…comfortable.” Then he felt embarrassed for his obvious backtracking.
Teri slid into the loveseat that sat against the opposite wall from the sofa. She looked out the window and nodded at the falling snow. “Wonder how much we’re in for.” She continued watching the snow, opened her mouth as if to say something else, apparently indecisive as to what it was she wanted to say.
David noticed her indecision and, feeling awkward, filled in the silence. “Seems to be picking up even more. There’s at least three or four inches out there already.”
More silence followed. David crossed his legs, spread his arms out to his sides, his palms flat on the leather cushions, and he looked to Teri. “Josh will probably be let out of work early today. He’ll call Connie for a ride. In the winter I don’t let him drive his car so he usually walks to work or takes the bus, that is if we can’t give him a ride.” The words hung in the air. Leave it to a math professor to utter a non sequitur. Did he intend the statement as a warning? And who, exactly, was he warning? Teri, or himself?
“Where are my manners.” He uncrossed his legs and sprang from the sofa. “Do you want something to drink? We’ve got tea, milk, soft drinks, juice, what’ll it be?” He took off his sport coat and waited for an answer.
Teri massaged the loveseat armrests, moving her hands back and forth over the leather. She looked to David and crossed her legs. David expended a good amount of effort to keep his attention on Teri’s face. It was difficult, but he succeeded in not embarrassing himself. Teri smiled. “Surprise me.”
In the kitchen, David opened the refrigerator. A chill ran down his spine. His palms were sweaty. He was acting like a teenager with a pretty girl in the house for the first time. He grabbed a paper towel from the rack above the sink and wiped his hands. He tossed the towel into the trash, reached into the refrigerator, and lifted a glass pitcher of tea from the middle shelf. In one fluid motion he closed the door with his foot, spun around to place the glass pitcher on the island, and dropped it. The pitcher crashed to the floor and shattered, spilling tea everywhere and sending shards of glass skittering across the floor.
Teri came running into the kitchen. “What happened? Are you all right?”
“Fine, I’m fine.” David stood over the mess, sighed, ripped off half the roll of paper towels, and knelt to sop up the mess. “Just dropped a pitcher of tea.” He looked at Teri. “That’s all.” He soaked up the tea. “How the hell did I manage this?”
Teri knelt beside him. She touched his shoulder, and for the second time in less than five minutes shivers coursed through David’s body.
“Hey. You all right?”
David stopped in mid-wipe and looked over his shoulder. Teri kept her hand on his shoulder, and even started massaging it.
“Are you?”
David looked into her eyes, and not for the first time he willingly acknowledged the excitement and fear of the thoughts that flew through his head, of the possibility of what could happen between them. He’d toyed with the idea more than once, especially recently, and he’d picked up signals from her on various occasions. Given that, he’d never seriously thought that anything would ever happen between them. It was always just fun stuff—casual, harmless flirting that happened all the time in workplaces where members of the opposite sex worked closely together. It was nothing to be concerned with.
But now—Teri kneeling next to him, the warmth of her hand on his shoulder, the closeness of her body to his, her musky scent teasing him—he truly feared the potential that lay before him, and he was not at all sure how he would respond if things progressed in a certain direction.
David turned from her to finish the task of cleaning up the tea and broken glass. “Of course I’m all right.” He stood, forcing Teri to remove her hand, a sopping pile of paper towels in his hand dripping tea. He dropped the pile into the trash, but hadn’t moved fast enough to prevent Teri’s hand from trailing down his arm, to his hand, and brushing his fingertips. He knelt to finish cleaning the remaining mess. Teri knelt next to him and picked up the bigger pieces of glass. “That’s a funny thing to ask, Teri.” David did not look at her as he threw away more wet towels and knelt to the floor for a third time. “All I did was break a glass and spill some tea.” He sopped up the rest of the tea and picked up a couple more pieces of glass. “That’s all. Nothing I can’t handle.”
Teri dropped the glass pieces she was holding in her hand. They clinked and tinkled on the tile floor. She retreated to the living room.
David picked up the pieces Teri had dropped, threw them and the last of the wet paper towels into the trash, and got the broom out of the closet. He swept the area, nudged the remaining glass pieces into the dust pan, and emptied them into the trash. He put the broom away and leaned against the island with his arms crossed. She was coming on to him. Her touch was more than an innocent, friendly gesture.
David, get hold of yourself. You’re not in junior high anymore. This is the adult world, you can handle this like an adult. But that’s what excited and scared him at the same time. He knew how most adults—at least most of the adults he knew—would handle this situation.
He pushed off from the island and approached the living room. He poked his head through the doorway. “That last remark, by the way, was meant to be funny.” He waited for her to laugh. She didn’t. She sat in the middle of the loveseat, hands at her sides tapping the seat cushions, legs uncrossed, skirt pulled to her knees and tucked under her legs. She stared at the opposite wall.
David pulled the rest of his body into the doorway and leaned against the wall. “How about tea mixed with shards of glass? Would that surprise you?”
No response. Teri pushed up from the loveseat and marched to the bay window. The snow, driven by the wind, fell at a slant.
“That was meant to be another joke,” David said from behind her.
Teri pivoted to face him. Like a panther on the prowl, her head lowered, eyes boring into him, red and blue silken fur shimmering in the gray light of the bay window behind her, deliberately placing one paw in front of the other, Teri approached him. When she got to within striking distance, she stopped and narrowed her eyes. Her lips moved, and when she spoke the words came out in a sultry whisper. “What are you doing?”
David shifted his body and pocketed his hands. “I’m not doing anything. Just trying to make a couple jokes. Lighten the mood. I thought that maybe—”
Teri stepped toward him. “I’m not playing this game, David.”
David straightened and shrugged his shoulders. He dug his hands deeper into his pockets. “What game?”
Teri crossed her arms and raised her head. “You’d have to be stupid or naïve to ask that question. Of all the things you are, stupid is not one of them. Naïve, perhaps, maybe even confused, but not stupid.” She stepped closer, as close as she could get to him without their bodies touching.
David knew he should move away from her—a large part of him, the logical part, screamed at him to do just that—and yet, he did not move away. He stood there, hands in his pockets, heart beating so loud he could hear it reverberating in the room, and he did not move away from her.
“When’s your wife coming home?”
David swallowed. It took a moment for the words to bounce around in his head before he grasped the meaning of them. His wife. Constance. When would she be home? Of course. She’d more than likely be let out early, just as he’d been from the college. In fact, she might even be on her way home right now. But what was he worried about? Nothing was happening. He had brought home a colleague with car troubles. That was all. It was nothing more than that.
David pulled one hand out of his pocket and looked at his watch, as if that would tell him what time she was due home. “She usually gets out at five.” He looked over Teri’s shoulder and nodded toward the window. “But judging from the weather she’ll probably be let out early. She’ll pick up Josh and then she’ll be home. Probably any minute now.”
David thought he saw a flash of disappointment in Teri’s eyes. Then a smile crept across her face. She raised a hand to her chin and tilted her head. “What are you thinking, David?”
“I…I’m not thinking anything. I mean, I’m thinking about my wife driving home in the snow. Thinking about where’s the best place to get a battery for your car tomorrow. That’s, that’s about it.”
“Do you hear yourself?”
“What?”
Teri narrowed her eyes. “David, what do you desire?”
Leave it to another math professor to offer up another non sequitur. He shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. “Desire?”
“Yes, David. Desire. What do you desire right here, right now, more than anything else?”
“Teri, I don’t know quite what you—”
Teri held up a hand and pressed a finger to David’s lips. “Don’t.” The smile remained on her face, but underneath it was the current of electric anger and resentment mixed with anticipation and excitement. “Of all the things you could say right now, don’t say that.” She removed her finger.
Her finger on his lips had been the closest any female, besides Constance, had ever been to David since his wedding day. He fought to keep his composure. “Say what?” He held his hands out, palms up, shoulders shrugged. “Teri, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Desire? I don’t know what you mean by that.”
It took five seconds for Teri’s eyes to change. It was as if a storm, darker and deeper than the blizzard outside, had formed inside her and looked to escape through her eyes. “The hell you don’t.” Teri spun away from him and strode back to the bay window.
David knew exactly what she’d been asking. He knew exactly what he’d wanted to say. But he had been too…afraid. Embarrassed. Nervous. He had wanted to answer her truthfully. He checked his watch. The storm had been going for quite some time, the mayor surely had closed all the city offices by now, which meant Connie was more than likely on her way home.
“Teri, I’m sorry. If I led you on, I’m truly sorry.”
“If?” Teri turned on him. “Damn you! If? Do I look like a child?” She planted her hands on her hips, put all her weight on one foot, and continued. “You invite me to your house under the guise of helping out a poor woman stranded in the snow, knowing your wife isn’t going to be home, and you say ‘if’?” Teri glared at him.
In spite of what Teri had just said, all David could think about was her standing by the bay window for the entire neighborhood to see. For Connie to see when she pulled up to the house.
Apparently, he conveyed his thoughts more than he intended to. “What?” Teri turned toward the window, then back to David. “Always concerned about appearances. Hell, David, you’ve flirted with me at work in front of others and now you’re worried about someone seeing me in the window?” She shook her head. “A bit late in the game for that, don’t you think?”
“Flirted with you?” David pushed away from the wall and approached her. “I never…if you construed anything I did as being flirtatious, I’m sorry. I never intended that.”
Teri raised a hand and approached David. “You bastard. You—”
She stopped herself, dropped her hand, and crossed the room to the loveseat. Before sitting down she turned to David and waved a dismissive hand at him. “I’m not one of your star-struck students you can charm into submission in your classroom.” She dropped herself into the seat and burrowed into the leather. “I know when a man is leading me on, and damn it David, you were. Even this morning with that stupid pretense of letting me vent in your office.” She turned her head aside and crossed her arms. When she spoke, she did not face David. “Even here, in your house.”
David stood in the middle of the room. Teri spoke the truth. That, more than anything else, scared the hell out of him. He thought of things to say, of apologies to offer, but that would be an admission of what he’d done, and he couldn’t do that. Admitting it would make it real. As long as he didn’t admit to it…what? Then it wouldn’t be real? How delusional can you be? Of course it’s real. She’s sitting here right in your living room. It’s real, damn it!
He glanced at Teri. She turned to him and dropped her hands into her lap.
“Why the hell did you do this to me?” She paused, but David at least knew well enough not to answer. “Is it a game with you? Is that it? Flirt with the younger female math professor, jerk her around for a while, watch her get all giddy like a high school freshman enamored with the senior football captain, then drop her like a dead weight and leave her dangling in the wind as she hangs from the noose she herself tied? Is that it? Tell me. I deserve the truth, if nothing else.”
She moved one hand to an armrest and drummed her fingers. She crossed her legs. The dangling foot marked out the time.
David backed up, felt for the sofa with his leg, and lowered himself into it. He sat with his hands in his lap, a schoolboy sitting in the principal’s office trying to figure out the right thing to say, knowing that anything he said could and would be used against him. The truth. That’s what she wanted. He owed her at least that. He knew that, of course. It wasn’t a matter of knowing what he owed her, or of knowing what was right and wrong. It never had been a matter of simply knowing.
“Teri—” David rubbed his hands together, trying to compose his thoughts before he continued. “Teri, if this whole thing had gone anywhere, what do you think would have been the final outcome?”
“Final…?” The drumming stopped. The marking of time ceased.
David stopped rubbing his hands and leaned back into the leather cushions. “Did you think there was ever any possibility of me leaving my wife?”
Unmoving, Teri’s eyes blazed at David. “You bastard.”
David turned to look out the bay window. The snow was coming down heavily, swirling, blowing from east to west. It looked like it was shaping up to be quite a Nor’easter. Not much different from the kind of storm that was brewing in his own living room.
“I never said anything to you about leaving my wife.”
“You didn’t have to. Everyone in the math department knows you’re not happy in your marriage. You haven’t done anything to hide that fact. It’s written all over everything you do. What the hell was I supposed to think?”
“I don’t know. I never—”
“You never, my ass.”
David rose from the sofa and ran a hand through his hair. “Teri, I’m sorry.”
Teri stood and stormed out of the room. A few moments later a door slammed, the sound coming from the direction of the bathroom at the rear of the house.
In the kitchen, David removed a dish towel from the rack, wet it under the sink, and started cleaning the counters. How had he screwed up so badly? Did he really think he could flirt with Teri all those times with no repercussions? What had he been thinking? He scrubbed at the nonexistent stain. Moving down the counter, scrubbing stains that weren’t there, David fought to regain control of his will. He stopped scrubbing, threw the dish towel into the sink, and leaned against the island. He heard the water running in the bathroom down the hall. He needed to make it right with Teri. He thought about what to say, what to do. When he turned to go back to the living room he felt a cold draft that he hadn’t noticed earlier. He looked around the kitchen, checked the window above the sink to make sure it was closed, which it was.
He turned toward the door that led to the garage. It was open a crack.
David started to close it, but stopped when he caught a glimpse inside the garage. He opened the door all the way.
The Beast was gone. What the hell?
Josh. He was working today, but he was supposed to walk to work and Connie was going to pick him up on her way home.
He had taken The Beast. Against David’s firm, clear command not to drive that car in the winter, Josh had taken The Beast.
David grabbed the phone receiver off the opposite wall and dialed the Old Wachusett Public Library.