“Quick roll in the hay,” Megan corrected. She shook an admonishing finger at her Egyptian colleague. “You met him once, and you thought he was great. And you’re right.”
“So, why not take things further? You both need it. And, well, he’s not just a pretty face.” Della had a habit of bringing this up, much to Megan’s irritation; she seemed determined to see the two of them together, despite Megan’s protestations. So did every other friend Megan had, really.
“He’s brilliant,” Megan agreed.
“And rich,” Della added.
“Never really cared about that.”
Della laughed so hard she nearly spilled her coffee. “Oh really, Nurse Peterson? The man is the emperor of high technology, with a mansion on every continent, and you’ve never cared about it? You forget that these,” she said, tugging at her earlobes, “may look like ears, but they’re actually very finely tuned bullshit detectors.”
She shrugged. “I know, I know, Nurse Samaha.” She elbowed Della, risking a spilled coffee. “Whatever. He’s barely on the market anyway, as you well know.”
Della thought for a second. “Hasn’t it been...” She looked to Megan for a number. “Two years? More?”
The loss of Tom’s wife Mary had been the lowest point of his life, and certainly one of Megan’s. “Nearly three,” Megan said quietly, not without sadness. “He’ll decide when he’s ready. And whoever it will be,” she said, more brightly, “it won’t be me, OK?”
The two returned to the lab and got down to their work. Megan managed to plod through the experiments without disaster, but found herself oddly distracted, wishing once again that Della would leave well enough alone. She’s just trying to help you to be happy, the Voice of Reason maintained. Besides, how many months has it been since...
Packing her battered, brown book bag, she realized with a distinct shudder that it had been a year and a week since she’d shared a bed with anyone other than the faithful Mario. And he was a giant, stuffed panda. Holy crap. Maybe Della’s right. A red-hot fling might be just what I need.
Glancing around at her classmates as the professor shooed them out of the lab, she was downhearted to note that there really wasn’t a single eligible guy in their group. “Della?” she asked, taking her friend’s arm. “Is it just me, or are we surrounded by a depressing mix... The unattainable, and the simply unattractive?”
Della sighed, descending the stairs with leaden feet and a tired posture. “All the more reason to let Tom... or someone else, I don’t really mind... jump you this weekend. God knows I need it, too.”
“Maybe we should go clubbing on Saturday, pick up a couple of hotties?” The two laughed their way to the cafeteria for yet more urgently needed, and probably terrible, coffee. She could joke about it, but Megan found herself feeling, yet again, that need... the very same need she’d been feeling for a year and a week.
***
Boston’s glacial afternoon traffic conspired to suck just as badly as the morning commute, but at least Megan had her lesson with Andrea to look forward to. Texting whenever the gridlock stopped completely while growling at the sluggish traffic, Megan confirmed she was on her way and tried to move quickly without getting honked at. It seemed that half the soccer moms in Boston had congregated on the slender stretch of real estate outside Patrick Gavin Middle School, and despite everyone trying to collect their kids as quickly as they could bundle them into the car, it took long, frustrating minutes to reach the pick-up zone. Megan’s bright reward was a grinning Andrea who flung open the door and jumped into the backseat as though finally allowed onto a bouncy castle.
“Hey Megan!” she trilled. “Guess what I did today?” Andrea buckled herself up and pulled her curly red hair back into its usual ponytail.
Megan loved this refrain and played along, as ever. “Hey, Andrea! Hmmm... Let me think.” The Fiesta found a gap and was propelled headlong into it. “Did you meet a wizard who turned homework into cupcakes?”
“No...” the girl answered, her tone rising to encourage another guess.
“Let’s see... Did you find a potion which turns bullies into the nicest people in the world?”
“No, not today...” she said, welcoming another try.
Megan wracked her brains. “Did you see a flying, purple elephant trailing a banner which said, ‘Andrea is Awesome’?”
“Yes!” she cried. “But it was yellow.”
“Yellow, you say? Well, did this flying, yellow elephant help you practice the piano?” There was silence from the back seat. “Hello?” Nothing. “Earth to Andrea, come in, please?”
“I did a little bit,” she said, unwilling to lie. “But I think I know that piece now.”
Megan chuckled skeptically. “You do? Well, I guess we’ll see about that. How was your day, sweetie?”