Chapter 5

Students were everywhere, standing around the halls talking and laughing and crisscrossing my path, as they darted to their lockers, occasionally bumping into me. As I sped past, many would say hello and good morning, and I'd grin and nod or wave, but my body moved with singular purpose to my classroom. I had less than ten minutes to get there, before students would start their morning migration and a new school day began.

My heart beat faster with each step, and by the time I swung open the door and stepped into my room, I was nearly out of breath. Two students were sitting in the back of the room talking quietly and looked over at me. I grinned sheepishly and they smiled in return, and then resumed their conversation.

I made my way to my desk, pulled out the chair, and quickly sat down. I glanced at the clock on the wall: less than five minutes. With trembling hands, I plucked the envelope from my bag and held it in my lap out of view. I slowly turned it over and carefully opened the flap and gingerly reached inside with my fingers, pulling out the card within.

When I flipped it over, I slapped a hand over my mouth and giggled. There on the front was an Easter bunny, painted in watercolors and holding a bright Easter basket filled with an assortment of colorful eggs. Above him was captioned, "I thought about sending you a big, beautiful basket for Easter..." Then I slowly opened the card, and inside was a line drawing of a person holding out the empty pockets of their pants, saying, "Instead, I got you this card."

But there, on the inside cover, was a note hastily written by Gayle.

"Sorry!" it said. "This was all I could find this morning."

Further down, she wrote, "Thank you for the wonderful evening and beautiful company last night."

I felt my face turning read, as I continued reading.

"Please call me today, when you get the chance, and let me know when you'd like to meet for dinner."

And below that, as if an afterthought, she had written, "I need to hear your voice again."

My vision slowly blurred, as her words sank in. My heart raced and spine tingled, as I sat there in a daze.

"I need to hear your voice again."

I'm not sure how long I had been sitting there motionless, when someone coughing suddenly pulled me from my trance. I slowly raised my eyes and saw all the desks in the classroom filled, my students sitting and staring back at me, some smiling and others chuckling. I closed the card and carefully open my desk drawer, slipping it inside.

During the noon hour, I called Gayle at work. But all throughout the morning, between classes, I would open my drawer and read her card over and over again.

I was scared to talk to her, nervous about what she would say, and becoming riddled with anxiety about how our relationship, ostensibly a mere friendship, was quickly becoming something more. So, all morning, my thoughts dwelled on Gayle. She was kind and polite, intelligent and witty, quick to smile and share a laugh. And I also thought about what Diane had said, how she could detect a hint of peripheral sadness in Gayle. The more I thought about it, the more I saw it, as well. The evening of her dinner party, now several months past, I remembered how sad she seemed, when I left to return home. And it didn't seem as though she were depressed that the party was over, though she did imply otherwise, rather her sullen mood seemed to be caused by my departure. As time went on, and Gayle and I became closer, this same sense of somberness at parting swept over me, too, leaving my heart feeling empty and alone.

Whenever I wasn't with her, I thought about her. I thought about how she brought so much joy to my life. And, more recently, I began thinking about what a beautiful woman she was, and not simply in terms of character, but physically, as well.

I tried ignoring it, but the truth of the matter is, I was falling in love with Gayle and had been for a very long time.

So, when I called her at noon, I was just as anxious to hear her voice.

"Did you get my card?" she asked.

I was sitting in the teacher's lounge on the couch, holding the phone close to my ear and nearly whispering. There were three other teachers there, but they sat at a table on the other side of the room.

"Yeah," I whispered.

Gayle laughed and asked why I was talking so softly.

"Someone's in here with me," I whispered.

She laughed again.

"So?" she said. "You afraid they might see you smiling or what?"

"No," I replied softly, turning to lean on the arm of the couch, away from the other teachers.

"Yeah, right," she replied with a snort. Then she added with a devilish voice, "Or maybe you're just scared they might figure out who it is seeing you."

I laughed, but quickly glanced over my shoulder. One of the trio turned to see what the commotion was about, but then smiled and turned away, when I grinned and waved.

"That's not true at all," I mumbled.

Then her words suddenly struck home: "... who it is seeing you."

Seeing... That word seemed to carry a certain inference, one that could just as easily be conveyed by the word "dating". And, in a very real sense, it really did feel as though Gayle and I were dating. All the necessary ingredients were there: a few commonalities in terms of interests, likes and dislikes; we enjoyed each other's company and spent a great deal of time together. And sometimes the level by which we communicated went beyond what mere friends would normally traverse, by way of body language and tone. When we sat together, although mainly whenever we were alone, it was side-by-side, our bodies touching. There were also times when she'd lay a hand on me, giving a gentle squeeze or soft rub.

All of this pointed in one direction, and, in my heart, I knew Gayle was attracted to me, as I was to her.

"Are you even listening to me?" she suddenly asked.

I blinked a few times and sat up straight. "Pardon?"

Gayle chuckled, as I mumbled an apology.

"You're too cute," she said.

I smiled, and then closed my eyes.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," she said. "Gotta make it quick, though. I should get back to work here."

"Ok," I whispered.

There was a brief pause, and then Gayle asked what it was I wanted to ask.

I was just about to speak, when she said, "What'd you think of the card?"

I glanced down at the floor and smiled, telling her I liked it. Then she explained how she had bought it for her niece, but never sent it, opting instead to actually buy her a big Easter basket filled with candy and toys. And the more she talked, the more I began to wonder, if she was trying to stall for time, trying to prevent me from asking my question. I sighed into the phone, but she cut me off again, before I could say anything.

"What time you want me to come over?" she asked.

I rolled my eyes, as it was obvious she didn't want me to ask my question, hoping I'd probably forget, what with her constantly changing the subject. I suppose, judging by the tone of my voice, she assumed it to be of a serious nature, but I wanted to ask it all the same.

"Six o'clock," I replied. And, before she could get another word in edgewise, I asked if she liked me.

My heart began pounding, as I waited for an answer.

"Yeah," she whispered softly. "Of course I do. You know that... don't you?"

My heart skipped a beat and my stomach fluttered.

"Ok," I replied. "That's all I wanted to know."

"Do you like me?" she asked quickly.

I nodded slowly, saying, "Yeah."

We were both silent for a few seconds, and I could hear her breathing into the phone.

"Jess..."

"Yeah?"

There was a pause.

"I don't wanna replace him," she said.

I closed my eyes and gripped the arm of the couch.

"I know," I replied tensely. "Thank you."

"But I still wanna be there... Is that ok?"

I curled my toes tightly and took a deep breath.

"Yeah," I murmured. "I'd like that."

Then my senses were jarred, when Gayle suddenly spoke in a louder tone, more pedestrian and breaking the otherwise sedate mood.

"So, six o'clock?" she said. "Want me to stop by the store and pick up anything?"

I closed my eyes again, slowly shaking my head and rubbing my fingers against my temple.

"Sure," I chuckled.

"Ok," she piped. "What should I get?"

I dropped my hand and sighed, rolling my eyes.

"Oh, I dunno," I moaned. "Whatever you want."

"Chips? Dip? Pretzels? Pop? Marshmallows? Apples? Oranges? A pineapple? Some of those, uh, whaddya-call-'em fruits... you know, they're red and hard on the outside, but squishy on the inside?"

I laughed, replying, "Pomegranates?"

"Yeah, that's it," she said. "Want some of those?"

"You're a goof," I said with a giggle.

"Ok, then," she said. "I'll grab us some wine, maybe some chips, and... a movie? Wanna rent a movie?"

"Yeah, that sounds good."

"Whatcha want me to get?"

"Eh, I don't care. You pick."

"All righty," she replied.

There was another pause of silence, and then the bell rang out in the hallway.

"I better get going," I said. "I'll see you around six."

"Jessie?"

"Yeah?"

"Is it ok, if I think about you for the rest of the day?"

My stomach fluttered again, and I felt myself become weak at the knees.

"If... Sure, I mean, if you want," I stammered.

"Yeah," she said. "I think I'd like that."

"Can... Can I think of you, too?" I said, as my voice cracked.

"Oh, sure," she replied very nonchalantly. "Yeah, knock yourself out. See ya at six?"

"Ok," I giggled. "Bye... I'll be thinking of you."

"Bye, sweetie."

That may have qualified as the best phone conversation of my life.

That afternoon, when I got home, I rushed about, cleaning the house, vacuuming and dusting, and then I started preparing dinner. I kept glancing at the clock, and the closer the hands got to six, the more quickly I moved. So, by the time it was six o'clock, I was breathing hard, and the ringing of the doorbell sent a jolt through me.

I grabbed a dishtowel and wiped my hands, tossing it onto the kitchen counter. Before going to the door, I stopped by a mirror in the living room to check myself. Satisfied everything was in order, I stepped over to the door and opened it.

Gayle stood there, wearing sunglasses, light blue blouse, and khaki pants. He teeth shone brightly, as she grinned.

"Hey there," she said, holding a plastic grocery bag in one hand and bottle of wine in the other.

I stepped back and invited her in, smiling from ear to ear. And, when I closed the door behind her, the first words to nearly leap from my lips were, "You look pretty." Instead, I quickly checked myself, managing to merely stutter hello. Gayle smiled and handed the bag to me. Then she removed her sunglasses, hanging them from the open collar of her blouse.

My heart was thumping, as she continued to stare at me with that wonderful smile.

"You look pretty," I mumbled softly, letting my eyes fall down to the floor, too embarrassed to let her see me blush.

Gayle only chuckled.

"You, too," she replied. "Now let's eat. I'm starving."

Together, we walked into the kitchen and finished preparing dinner. We sat side-by-side at the kitchen table, eating and chatting about this and that and whatever was on our minds. And after we stuffed ourselves, we cleaned up and put the leftovers away. Then we took our glasses of wine and walked out into the living room. As Gayle sat on the couch, I went over to the television and started the movie. Then I stepped over and sat next to her, once again, side-by-side, our thighs rubbing together.

A short while into the movie, Gayle set her glass on the end table and leaned back. I glanced at her, seeing her relax, and decided it wasn't a bad idea. I handed her my glass, and she placed it alongside hers, and then I leaned back to join her.

We sat there with our hands in our laps, a little awkwardly it seemed, and then Gayle, perhaps sensing this, wiggled around and pulled her arm nearest me from between us, draping it behind me onto the back of the couch.

It seemed an almost instinctual reaction on my part, but when that body contact was lost, I scooted closer to reclaim it, and, when I leaned back, I felt her hand behind me come to rest on my shoulder. And, as we watched the movie, every now and then I'd feel her fingers gently stroke my shoulder, until finally, she was hugging me. I leaned against her and placed one hand just above her knee, and then took a deep breath and smiled, reveling in the modest intimacy we were sharing.