Flirting with Fifty

“Did you have a good summer?”

He dropped into the empty chair and folded his arms behind his head. “I did, but I’m exhausted. I think three kids is plenty. No more.”

“I like my three,” she agreed, sitting on a corner of her desk. “You guys did that national park road trip, didn’t you? How did it go?”

“Eight parks in four weeks. Four thousand, six hundred, twenty-nine miles.”

“That’s a lot of driving.”

“A lot of campgrounds. A lot of crying and fighting. A lot of dump stations. Glad to be home.”

“I’d like to see the parks, but I’d do hotels, maybe those big lodges. Not a big fan of camping or cooking over an open fire.”

“No open fires anymore, at least during summer.”

“So how do you make s’mores?”

“Over a propane grill.”

“Not the same.”

“Kids didn’t mind.” Greg leaned forward. “And congrats. I just heard the news.”

Her stomach did a flip. She felt like throwing up. “Who told you?”

“A school-wide email went out a moment ago.”

Now she really felt like throwing up. “But I just left Dr. Nair’s office.”

“I think everyone knew it was pretty much a slam dunk. Let’s face it, you make us look good. Smart, loyal, devoted to both students and faculty. You have an impeccable reputation.”

“I sound like a well-trained Labrador.”

He laughed. “And that’s why I like you so much. That very dry sense of humor.”

“Not so dry. You just happen to get me.”

“I do. You’re my favorite person in this department.” Greg looked hopeful. “When do you meet him?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Lucky dog—sorry, no pun intended.”

She rolled her eyes. “None taken.”

“You know, Jack King is one of the reasons I focused on ecology and epidemiology of infectious diseases.”

“So, you know who he is?”

“I do.”

She was dying to ask the questions hovering on the tip of her tongue. How old is Jack King? Is he hot? Is he Australian? Instead she forced the questions back and managed a careless shrug. “Too bad you can’t teach the course with him.”

“I don’t teach math, you do.”

“Math is part of what you do.”

“Yes, but this is an interdisciplinary course between the science and math departments. You represent math. Dr. King represents science. I’m not needed.” Greg’s watch buzzed, and he glanced down. “It’s the babysitter. Wife’s working. I better take this. But I’ll see you Friday night at President Keller’s?”

“See you there.” Paige forced a smile, but the moment the door closed, she wanted to scream. There were thirteen math instructors. Thirteen who could have taught the course. And as much as she appreciated Greg’s vote of confidence, surely there was someone else on the faculty with a more stellar reputation?

Until two hours ago Paige had been looking forward to the start of the Fall semester. This summer had been unusually quiet, and she was excited about classes resuming. It hadn’t been a typical summer. Summer was usually when she saw her girls, but this summer her daughters were busy with their own lives—working, traveling, auditioning—and instead of traveling to see them, Paige made frequent trips to Paso Robles to see her mom, as well as picking up tutoring jobs when she could. Paige wasn’t good at relaxing. Life was just easier when one was busy.

But life wouldn’t be easier if she was team teaching with a man, much less one she’d slept with thirty years ago. It was just one night, a crazy, hormone-fueled hookup that shouldn’t have ever happened. She blamed Paris and the moonlight. Thank goodness she hadn’t gotten pregnant. She’d gone on to earn multiple degrees and have a real life—

Her phone rang, interrupting the thought.

Paige reached across her desk, checking the number. It was Nichole, her middle daughter, a chemical engineer working in Chicago. Paige popped in her earbuds and took the call. “This is a nice surprise,” she said, sitting down in her chair. Of her girls, Nichole was the most independent, and the one who reached out the least. “How are you?”

“Not so good,” Nichole said flatly. “Andreas and I broke up.”

“Oh, Nichole, no.”

“We’ve been fighting a lot lately. I just got to the point I couldn’t take it anymore. It didn’t make sense to stay together if we weren’t going to be happy.”

“You broke up with him?”

“I didn’t know what else to do.”

Paige could tell Nichole was fighting tears, and she bit her lip, thinking of something wise or useful to say. “Are you regretting your decision?” she asked carefully, trying to feel her way. Nichole didn’t like opening up, and she didn’t like opinions, either.

“I miss him. I miss how we were, before everything was a hassle.”

“When did things change?”