CHAPTER 11
Victoria’s senior students were tense in January. They had two weeks after vacation to finish their college applications, and many of them hadn’t done it, and needed help. She stayed after school every day to advise them on their essays, and they were grateful for her excellent guidance and advice. It brought her closer to the students she worked with, and some of them talked about their hopes and plans, their families, their lives at home, their dreams. Even Becki Adams asked for help, and several of the boys. A few of them admitted that they needed scholarships, but most of the kids at Madison had no worries about money. And all of them were relieved when they finished their applications and mailed them off. They wouldn’t hear back until March or April, and now all they had to do was finish the school year without flunking out or getting into trouble.
On the last two days in January, Victoria attended an education conference at the Javits Center with several other teachers. There were a number of panels they could sign up for, group discussions, and lectures by well-known educators. She found it very interesting, and was grateful the school had let her participate. She had just left a lecture on early identification and warning signs of adolescent suicidality, by a child psychiatrist, when she collided with a man who wasn’t looking where he was going and nearly knocked her down. He apologized profusely and helped her pick up the pamphlets and brochures that he had knocked out of her hand, and when he stood up, she was startled by how handsome he was.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to knock you down,” he said pleasantly with a dazzling smile. It was hard not to stare at him, and she noticed several other women looking at him too. “Great lecture, wasn’t it?” he said with a friendly smile. The lecture had opened a whole new line of thought for her. She had never worried that any of her students might be suicidal or secretly troubled, but she realized now that it was a real concern.
“Yes, it was,” she agreed.
“I teach juniors and seniors, and it sounds like they’re the most at risk.”
“So do I,” she said, as they drifted in the same direction toward a buffet that had been set up for their breaks. It had been a fascinating conference so far.
“Where do you teach?” He seemed perfectly comfortable chatting with her, and he was inclined to continue as they both stopped at the buffet.
“The Madison School,” she said proudly, smiling at him.
“I’ve heard of it. Fancy kids, eh? I teach public school. That’s a whole other world.”
They went on chatting for a few minutes, and he introduced her to Ardith Lucas, a woman he knew who joined them, and then he invited Victoria to sit at a table with them. Everyone was jockeying for seats before they went to the next panel or lecture. And there were several tables set up around the room with free literature and books they could buy. He had a bag full, and Victoria had already collected the stack of brochures of most interest to her, which she’d dropped and he’d helped her pick up. He said his name was John Kelly, and he looked a few years older than she. Ardith was considerably older and said she couldn’t wait to retire. She said she had done her time as a teacher for forty years and was longing to be free. Victoria and John were just starting out.
The three of them talked all through lunch. John was dazzingly good looking, extremely nice, and very bright. And after lunch he jotted down his phone number and e-mail for her, and said he’d love to get together sometime. She didn’t get the feeling he was asking for a date, but wanted to be friends, and she had a feeling he was gay. She gave him her information too. She didn’t know if she’d hear from him again, forgot about it, and a week later she was surprised when he called and invited her to lunch on a Saturday.
There was a new Impressionist exhibit at the Metropolitan Museum, and they both wanted to see it. She met him in the lobby, and they went through the exhibit, enjoying it together, and then went to the cafeteria for lunch. She was having a very nice time with him, and then mentioned that one of her roommates worked at the Costume Institute and was setting up a new exhibit that day. And after lunch they decided to drop by and see Harlan. He looked surprised to see Victoria, and was impressed by her new friend. It was impossible not to notice John’s blond good looks, and his extremely athletic body, and when she saw them look at each other, her earlier impression of John was confirmed. The two men were drawn to each other like magnets. Harlan gave them a private tour of the Costume Institute, and when they left, John looked as though he hated to leave. And as they walked down the steps of the museum, he commented on what a terrific guy Harlan was, and Victoria agreed. She felt like Cupid suddenly, and loved the idea of introducing them. And on the spur of the moment, she invited John to dinner at the apartment on Sunday night. He looked very happy to accept, and then he took a bus downtown to where he lived, and Victoria walked home.
Harlan didn’t come home till eight o’clock that night, after setting up the exhibit, and he wandered into her room when he got in. She was lying in bed watching TV.
“What was that vision of gorgeousness you brought to the Costume Institute today? I nearly fainted when you walked in. How do you know him?”
Victoria laughed at the look on his face. “I met him at a teachers’ conference last week. He nearly knocked me down, literally.”
“Lucky you. He seems like a really great guy.”
“Yes, I think so too,” she said, smiling at Harlan, “and I think he plays on your team.”
“So why did he ask you out?” Harlan looked suspicious, and was worried he might be straight.
“To be friends, I think. Believe me, he doesn’t look at me the way he looked at you.” Men never did, not in her experience at least. “And by the way, I invited him to dinner tomorrow night.” She laughed out loud at the look on Harlan’s face. He looked as though she had just told him he’d won the lottery.
“Is he coming?”
“Yes. And you’d better cook dinner. If I do, I’ll poison us all, unless we order pizza.”
“I’d love to,” Harlan said happily, and went back to his room, looking like he was floating on a cloud. He had never seen anyone as handsome as John. Harlan was a good-looking man too, and Victoria thought they looked like a good match. She wondered if some premonition or instinct had led her to introduce them to each other. It had been a spur-of-the-moment idea but now seemed like divine inspiration to her, and to Harlan as well.
He was a very proficient cook, and spent the whole next day in the kitchen, after buying a leg of lamb, potatoes, string beans, and chocolate cake at a nearby bakery. And by dinnertime, the smells emanating from the kitchen were delicious. John Kelly arrived right on time. He had brought a small bouquet of flowers and a bottle of red wine. He handed the flowers to Victoria, and the wine to Harlan, who opened it and poured them each a glass, and then they went to sit in the living room. And the two men got on like a house on fire. They never stopped talking until dinner, which was an hour later. And Harlan had set the table nicely with place mats and linen napkins, and candles on the table in the dining room. He had gone all out. And by the end of dinner, Victoria felt as though she were intruding on a date, and left them alone. She said she had papers to grade before school the next day. She closed the door softly, after telling Harlan she’d help him do the dishes later, and she turned on her TV and lay down on her bed. She was dozing when John knocked on her door to say goodbye and thank her. And when she heard the front door close, she went out to the kitchen to help Harlan clean up.
“So, how was it?” Victoria asked him with a smile.
“Wow!” Harlan said, smiling broadly. “He’s the most terrific man I’ve ever met.” He was twenty-eight years old and seemed extremely grounded, serious, and responsible and was fun to talk to as well. Harlan said he’d had a great time.
“He likes you too,” Victoria commented as she rinsed the dishes Harlan handed her.
“How do you know?”
“Anyone can see that,” she reassured him. “His face lit up every time you looked at each other.”
“I could have talked to him all night,” he said dreamily.
“Did he ask you out?” she asked, enjoying the romance starting right beneath her eyes, and she loved the idea that she had introduced them.
“Not yet. He said he’d call me tomorrow. I hope he does.”
“I’m sure he will.”
“We have the same birthday,” Harlan said as she laughed.
“That must be a sign. Okay, now you owe me big time. If you two wind up together, I want a street named after me or something.”
“If I end up with him, you can have all my autographed baseball cards from when I was a kid, and my grandmother’s silver.”
“I just want you to be happy,” she said kindly.
“Thanks, Victoria. He seems like such a great guy.”
“So are you,” she said warmly.
“I never feel that way about myself. I always feel like everyone is better than I am, smarter, nicer, better looking, cooler.” He looked nervous as he said it.
“So do I,” she said sadly. She knew the feeling, and why she had it. It came from years of her parents telling her how inadequate she was, and her father letting her know that he thought she was fat and ugly. It had undermined her confidence and self-esteem since birth. And it was a cross she had to bear now. Deep down, she always believed that he was right.
“I guess our parents do that to us early on,” Harlan said quietly. “I don’t think he’s had an easy time of it either. His mother committed suicide when he was a kid, and his father won’t see him because he’s gay. But he seems pretty healthy and normal in spite of that. He just got out of a relationship he’s been in for five years. His partner cheated on him, so they broke up.” Victoria was happy for Harlan and hoped that something came of it for both of them. He thanked her profusely again, and then they turned off the lights and went to their rooms. It had been a delicious dinner and a lovely night. And she had enjoyed talking to both men, although not as much as they had enjoyed talking to each other.
She left early the next morning, and didn’t see Harlan that day, or the next. It was Wednesday when she ran into him in the kitchen when they both got home from work. She was afraid to ask if he had heard from John, in case he hadn’t, but he volunteered the information very quickly.
“I had dinner with him last night,” he said, beaming.
“How was it?”
“Amazing. I know it’s too soon to say it, but I’m in love.”
“Just go slow, and see how it goes.” Harlan nodded but didn’t look capable of following her advice.
She met John again in their kitchen that weekend. He and Harlan were cooking dinner, and John had brought over his wok and offered to leave it with him. They invited Victoria for dinner, but she said she had other plans, and went to a movie by herself so they could be alone. And they were out when she got back. She didn’t know where they’d gone, and she didn’t need to know. This was their story now, and their life. She just hoped it would turn out to be a loving relationship for both of them, and it looked that way for now. They appeared to be off to a terrific start. She smiled to herself as she thought about it and went to her room. As usual on the weekends, everyone was out. It reminded her that she hadn’t had a date since she’d been in New York. No one had asked her out since the summer before in L.A., at least six months.
She didn’t go anywhere where she was likely to meet men, except the teachers’ conference where she’d met John. Other than that, she didn’t go to a gym or belong to a club. She didn’t go to bars. There were no single, straight, age-appropriate teachers at her school. No one had introduced her to anyone, and she hadn’t met anyone on her own. She thought it would have been nice if she had, but so far all she had to fill her life was her work. And this time it was Harlan’s turn, and John’s. She was happy for them. And she knew that sooner or later she would meet someone. At twenty-two, it was unlikely that she would be alone for the rest of her life, no matter how overweight her father thought she was. She remembered her grandmother’s old saying that there was a lid for every pot. She hoped that Harlan had found his. And with luck, she hoped that one day, she’d find hers.