Part 3: Promises and the Freshman Flirt
Author's Note: This is a romantic, slow-burn chapter with only a little sexual activity (practiced strictly by those 42 or older). If that's not enough for you, please look elsewhere and come back for the conclusion in Part 4. Thanks!
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The next three hours felt ridiculously long as I waited, thinking each moment that the phone would ring, and Mandy, my old friend would be back, that we could be friends again...if.
In truth, there were a lot of ifs. She was married, so I didn't know if her husband would object, or if she'd let him, but I'd sent the letter with the thought that I was finding an old friend, not a potential romantic partner, despite having given that a bit of pondering while Brock Tidwell, my private investigator, searched for her. His report of her marital status put an end to that thought. I didn't know if Mandy would want to do more than simply say hello and goodbye. With the passage of the years, I didn't even know if we'd still have any common ground between us. What if we'd only been friends because of chemistry and what I could potentially teach her? Those were all difficult questions, those ifs, and I spent the hours wondering about them.
Yes, with Mandy being married, I knew that friends would be all we would be. Accepting that as a given, I hoped we
could
be friends and
would
be.
With the passing minutes and hours, I considered calling Sonny, Rosalie, and Liz to let them know, but was hesitant to say anything, to reveal my excitement, or my doubts, until I knew if it might be more than one more call.
While waiting, jittery was the term that described me best; poor Luke looked at me like I was nuts or, perhaps, possessed. In fact, I didn't remember being this excited in years, but when the phone finally rang, it still surprised me. I pounced on it and almost sent it spinning before finally catching it.
"Hello?"
"Hey, the kiddos are in bed."
"Mandy, hi! You have kids. What do you have?"
"Boy, 12, 13 in the fall, who is angry with me and the world since we moved away from his dad. I'm trying to deal with the anger issues with him, and he seems to know just when to drop a bad word to set me off. Second and final is a girl, 8, who loves everyone else and is only angry with me that we moved away from her dad."
"Wait. I knew you'd moved recently but I thought you were married. You moved away?"
"Yes, 'was married' is the operative term. Or, at least, it will be when the final divorce papers are signed this week. Woo hoo!"
I felt like kicking myself as I smiled at learning she "was married" but wouldn't be anymore in just days. Feeling like a heel for thinking it, I said, "I'm sorry. What happened?" Realizing how far my foot was in my mouth after it was too late, I added, "Ah, if you don't mind talking about it, I mean."
"No, it's okay," she said. "I caught the bastard cheating again, and had enough. I warned him the first time and we spent months in couples therapy rebuilding trust. At least I thought that's what we were doing; I think he was just rebuilding the target list in his little black book while he was screwing me, both literally and figuratively. Then he tossed everything we had away, like he didn't care. No, not
like,
he didn't care, he just
didn't
care."
Feeling bad for her and what she'd been through, I said, "I'm sorry, Mandy. That has to be tough on you."
"Thanks, Barry, and you're right. Seriously, I'd had as much as I could take, and I told him no way in hell I was going through it all again. The kids, well, they don't understand. Oh, Tad--thank God we decided not to call him Teddy Junior--knows 'Daddy cheated' without understanding the actual details, but Daddy dearest, Teddy Senior, has basically brainwashed him into believing it's not a big deal and that it was my fault, too. Ceilly isn't ready for the full story, so she knows Daddy did something bad, but that doesn't matter to her and she still misses him. He really was good with her when he was around.
"Anyway, I've had full custody throughout the proceedings, and that will continue when the divorce is finalized this week...if Teddy doesn't try to pull a fast one to delay and cost me more money. I was transferred from Atlanta to Hoover a couple of months ago, so 'Mommy's being mean,' 'Mommy made me lose all my friends,' 'Mommy's making me go to a new school this fall,' 'Mommy made me...' Oh, that list goes on and on, the move's not fully complete, and half of our boxes still aren't unpacked. Meanwhile, Teddy missed both visitation weekends since the move, and I even offered to deliver them or meet him halfway after we moved. That makes it even harder on them, particularly when he's feeding them the line that I'm the one standing in their way."
"Hopefully they'll understand better before too long."
"Doubtful, but thanks. So what about you? You and your girlfriend are married with three, maybe four kids, right? What did she say about you spending $800 to find me?" She laughed. "You were joking about that, right?"
"No, not married, and no, not joking, not at all. And Evie, my ex-girlfriend from back then, told me to tell you she was sorry for all the bad things she thought about you over the years. She was actually the one who gave me the idea to spend the money to find you."
She was silent for a few seconds before she asked, "Barry, what am I missing here?"
I told her about how Cathy Resnick had lied to Evie, about our breakup, and how it all came out so many years later.
"Oh, Barry, I'm so sorry. So have you ever been married? Do you have kids?"
"No, and, again, no," I said, wanting more and more to get off of me and onto her story. I took the initiative then, and asked, "So, Mandy, what happened? Why'd you leave school?"
There was another long pause on the line and then a sigh before she started speaking.
"Well, you can probably guess that, despite all of your tutoring--very good tutoring, I might add--I flunked chemistry. And English...and math. I had a D+ in chemistry so I needed to get a C on the final to pass and get credit, and a C-minus or better in the other two, but the breakup with Tony Crocker, my old boyfriend, made me so upset I couldn't concentrate and I bombed all of three of those finals after getting Bs on the two before he called. The school contacted my parents and they decided I'd withdraw since they thought I was a mental wreck--I was upset, but it wasn't that bad. Or maybe it was, since I bombed three finals? Who knows? Anyway, they already knew Dad was being transferred to Houston, too, so they decided I'd go with them without asking me. That really hurt."
"Oh, that's tough."
"Yeah, I was pretty upset and wasn't thinking exactly straight, so I didn't resist like I should have. If I had, I'd have complained and I think they'd have seen my side, but I didn't, and the next thing I knew, Dad and I were in my dorm shoving things in my bags, boxes, and garbage bags, and throwing them in the back of our minivan. Dad had a rolling cart, so we were in and out in practically no time. Then we were gone, and so was basically everything else...all my friends, my hopes, and my dreams."
I felt so bad for her, for everything she'd told me so far, but this was the final straw since this was the context in which I knew her best. There was water in my eyes and I'm not usually an emotional guy. I blinked them away and asked, "What did you do?"
"My parents helped me get enrolled in Houston for the summer session--I was back to reasonably close to normal by then, and I made an B-plus in the English and math, and a B in Chemistry--all of your tutoring really helped...finally--and that's when I was thinking about contacting you, but I figured you were probably spending more time with your girlfriend and wouldn't want to hear from me, if you even remembered me, so I let it go when I never could find my student directory. I never dreamed that she would break up with you, especially over an affair with me that never happened."
There was a touch of bitterness in my heart over that last part as I replied, "Yeah, sometimes life just reaches out and bites you on the ass like that, you know?"
"Yep, and I have the scars to prove it."
****
Fortunately, it wasn't just one call.
We spoke nightly for the next few days, reconnecting on a number of fronts. On Thursday night, I asked, "Mandy, you said you still have lots of boxes to unpack. Could you use some help this weekend?"
"You? Come here?"
"Well, I'd have a hard time helping unpack boxes from here, now, wouldn't I?"
She paused. "Barry, I don't want to give you the wrong idea, but the ink's barely dry on the divorce papers. I'm not looking for anything--"
"Mandy, stop. Nobody said anything about anything like that. I'm talking about one old friend helping another old friend who I'm pretty sure could use the help."
"But...but it's got to be what, three hours, between us?"
"Just a little over two actually, plus a time change, so it wouldn't be that bad, even on the way home."
"You'd do that, to help us? To help me?"
"Yeah, and believe me, it will be a whole lot easier than chemistry."
She laughed and I added, "I'll even take you to dinner that evening if you'll let me."
"I don't know, Barry. I--"
"Not a date, Mandy. Just two friends talking and getting to know each other again, okay?"
"Let me think about that, okay?"
***