Chapter 8
Paige enjoyed her trip to Paso Robles but was glad to be back home in her own place and in her own bed. She had missed calls from Ashley and Michelle, but she phoned Ashley first, wondering if Ashley had gotten a callback. Paige’s call went to voice mail, so Paige left her youngest a message and then phoned Michelle. Michelle wasn’t available, either, and so Paige showered and put on her comfiest pajamas and settled with her laptop to go over lesson plans for tomorrow.
She would see Jack tomorrow.
It was becoming increasingly difficult to feel nothing around him.
The next two weeks passed quickly. No headaches, no weekend trips, just teaching, grading, and her routine of staying healthy and keeping busy at home. With her birthday looming at the end of the month, her girls all called, worried that they wouldn’t be with her, wondering if they shouldn’t try to plan something, as something was better than nothing. Paige was touched by their concern, but trying to reassure her girls that she was honestly fine was a little exhausting. Because she was fine. Fifty didn’t seem particularly scary, not when she liked herself, and her life. She was lucky to have work she loved, lucky to have children she adored, lucky to have good friends. She had everything she needed. Her life was complete.
Paige would have even described her life as peaceful if it weren’t for Jack sharing a classroom with her three times a week, using Esther’s office next door, walking across campus, usually with a gaggle of followers peppering him with questions. It wasn’t Jack’s fault that he radiated energy, vitality, charisma. But he certainly made things more complicated. When he was in his office next door, she found it hard to focus, hyperaware of him on the other side of the shared wall. She could hear his voice every now and then, too, when he was animated or laughing. His laugh was warm, and it often made her smile, and she wouldn’t even realize she was smiling until she’d stopped working and was staring out the window, lost in thought. Daydreaming.
She didn’t even know what she was daydreaming about. She just felt a pull toward Jack. Endless interest. It aggravated her that she was so drawn to him, but she wasn’t the only one. Faculty frequently dropped by his office. His phone buzzed often. He even popped his head into her office now and then to check on something related to their class. They always kept the conversation professional, skirting the personal and any mention of the past, but she found herself wondering what he kissed like now and, God help her, what he’d be like in bed now.
Or what she’d be like in bed now.
She hadn’t slept with anyone in years. Not since moving to California. Sex was so low on her radar, it wasn’t even appealing. But then, she didn’t feel appealing, not when that part of her—desire, need, whatever it was—was dead. Gone.
Paige left her desk and went to the window to look out over the quad. She drew in a deep breath and then exhaled, counting slowly, in and out, until some of the anxiety eased. The past was the past. She couldn’t let it hold her hostage anymore. Maybe what she needed to do was remember the best parts of the marriage, remember how excited they’d been when she’d discovered she was pregnant with Michelle. It hadn’t been all bad. There had been love, in the beginning.
Focusing on breathing helped, and her shoulders dropped, her nausea faded. It was midafternoon but cool and gray today, thanks to cloud cover. Now, if only it would rain. Poor California, almost constantly drought stricken.
A knock sounded on the door and then it opened. It was Jack. “I had a quick question. It looks like from the schedule, the university does two sets of midterms before the finals. Do you do that as well, or is it optional?”
She waved him in, glad for the distraction. “I like the two sets personally, because if students bomb one but do okay on another, they can still pass the class. It’s a lot harder if someone has failed the midterm. It adds a lot of pressure to the final.”
“I didn’t have two sets of midterms planned. But we could change that if you want.”
“But you also have the papers and the field study, so I’m not sure it’s necessary.”
“Have you thought any more about joining us for the trip to Costa Rica?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know the first thing about tropical field biology. I’m far better here on campus.”
“You’d probably have fun.”
“I’d be stressed that the rest of my classes would suffer, and students might get neglected.”
“You can do office hours by Zoom.”
“It’s not the same, especially for the students who struggle,” she answered.
“We all made it work during the pandemic.”
“That was the pandemic.” She looked back out the window, watching students cross the quad. So many of her students had found learning remotely difficult. She’d never had so many students fail and drop out. She looked at Jack. “My job is to teach—”
“And you’re not missing any teaching days. We fly out of LAX Saturday of Thanksgiving weekend, and the next week is Dead Week. We return end of finals week. You hold office hours by Zoom, and someone else proctors your finals. It’s easy.”
For him, she thought. He was used to flitting all over the globe. She hadn’t had a big international trip since . . . since . . . when? Paris? That couldn’t be. She had traveled with Ted and the girls, but most of the trips had been to Florida, Hawaii, and twice to Cancún.
“Just keep thinking about it,” he said.
“I am,” she said.
Jack laughed. “No, you’re not. You’re thinking you can’t do it. Try thinking you can.”
* * *