“Come on, Edie. Let’s drown our sorrows in coffee and cake. I’ve got to draw some elderly male model in my Life Drawing class, but all I can do is imagine his body with Aiden’s penis.” Aiden rolls his eyes as Shelby makes rude gestures with her hands.
“Shelby, I don’t know how you and Aiden have made it this far, but I can pass on the penis comparisons. Thanks.” I mutter, disentangling myself from them to walk ahead to the Starbucks.
“Oh, please. It’s my appreciation of his penis that’s made us last this long.” Shelby shrugs and pecks a very red-faced Aiden on the cheek. I pray Shelby does not start chanting penis just to embarrass us in public… It would not be the first time she did it. He must be a saint among men to tolerate Shelby’s candid mouth, which makes me wince because I don’t want to think about her mouth and Aiden in the same sentence at this moment.
“Arrrg, please. Enough!” I cup my hands over my ears. “La, la, la,” I sing as loud as I can. We walk down the block together, laughing and joking. Coffee is the only acceptable cure for this conversation between my two friends.
Jack
“Mr. Hamilton, you have a call from Rutgers on line one,” Tom, my PA, buzzes me from the front office. I am shuffling papers around on my desk, getting contracts ready for signatures and reviewing files Tom had brought into me earlier. A small headache is forming behind my left eye and the buzz of the office phone is not helping. Looking around my very sleek and modern office, I think this is really not how I wanted to spend my adult life.
“Thanks Tom. I’ll take the call. Can you order some Pad Thai for lunch?”
I click over and take the call. “Hello. This is Jack.”
“Ah, Jack. My favorite student and, likely, my most successful,” the gravelly voice says to me and, immediately smiling, I recognize my old professor. Just when I thought my life was going in a bad direction, he helped to pull me back on target. I owed this man a considerable amount of my success.
“Dean Andrews! To what do I owe the pleasure of this call?” I leaned back in my chair, eager to catch up with the man who is more supportive and influential to me than my own father.
“I hope I’m not catching you at a bad time, Jack,” he says.
“Oh no. I already feel horrible. I told Beth I would be unable to teach the Calculus course next semester due to my travel responsibilities coming up. I just heard about Dr. Roth’s poor health. How is the crusty bastard?” I ask, listening to him chuckle.
“Indeed. His surgery is scheduled for a week from now, so he’s taking a leave of absence for the rest of the semester.” Dr. Roth had been a real hard ass in my time at the university, often failing good students and pushing those of us slackers beyond our comfort zones. It was his way of teaching us life lessons through those dreaded blue book quizzes each week on our knowledge base or some bullshit I was sure he made up.
“I’m so sorry to hear that.” Although I wasn’t surprised, considering his behavior of drinking and eating to excess outside of the classroom, along with who knows what else was rumored about the cranky bachelor math professor.
“It’s actually partly why I’m calling.” Dean Andrews pauses.
“Oh, really?” My curiosity is peaked.
“Yes. You see, I was hoping you might possibly be able to fill in for one of his classes for which I can’t seem to find a timely replacement. He was teaching four classes, and this block is one of the hardest to fill. It really fowls things up for the students eager to complete this required course.” I tap my pen on the desk and flip my smart phone over to look at my calendar, which Tom updates for me daily.
“Which class would that be? I’d love to help if I can.” I flip through aps and hover over my Facebook account that I keep just for family and close friends. I’m more interested in how faulty its algorithms are than anything else. I click on my calendar instead and check my current availability.
“Well, it’s the Tuesday/Thursday module of Statistics. I can’t get anyone to take it, and the TA simply doesn’t have enough experience to do it for the rest of the semester. I can just imagine the parents calling in an uproar.”
“Alright. I’ll have Tom rework a few of my meetings. I’ve always loved the Stat course.”
“Really? Excellent! I’ll have Beth email you the syllabus. See you Thursday on campus then? We can discuss the transition after class and make sure the students are on par for the exam.”
“Great. We’ll have lunch after class. See you then.” I hang up and lean over my desk. I miss the university environment. Teaching had always been fun for me before I almost ruined it for myself, and that made me think of her… No sense in reliving the past. I figure the college classes are much safer than my student teaching days.