It was probably good that Steph left teaching to work at a magazine. She was kind of a mess, and even the kids realized that her heart wasn’t in it. As an entertaining colleague, I missed her. I also missed the few occasions we managed to hook up--a parking lot after night school, and a memorable angry afternoon helping her move. When she left, I filed those memories away for future fantasies and forgot all about her.
Facebook is a wonderful thing, though, and I still saw the occasional post about what she was up to. Usually, some exotic location was involved--clearly she was living a good life and traveling. It got to be a regular thing, and I sometimes smiled when her posts showed her drinking, dancing, sitting on some guys lap, and doing everything I expected a single, horny, and free-spirited woman to get up to.
What I did not expect was a heavy cream-colored envelope that came in the mail last year. Shuffling through the nested envelopes, I snorted with amusement when I saw it was a wedding invitation for Stephanie & Arturo Somebody for a mid-June weekend. “So she finally decided to settle down,” I thought to myself. I told my wife and she was equally amazed, but we decided to attend. Other people at school had gotten invited as well, and it looked like a good party if nothing else--a place right on the water on Long Island.
The school year passed, and as June approached, I checked the fit of my good suit. My wife went shopping and got a new dress and shoes, and we made arrangements for my parents to watch the kids. We even got a hotel room close to the venue so we didn’t have to drive home late at night.
During the last week of school, I got a Facebook message from the bride herself.
“I’m so psyched you guys are coming!”
I typed back something polite and told her we were looking forward to meeting Arturo.
“He’s so great!” her next message gushed. “I have to come back to my parents’ house next week--can I meet you after school and fill you in?”
My fingers paused over the keyboard--what, I wondered, was she really up to?
I guess my pause was pretty obvious, because before I could compose a reply, she sent one: “Don’t worry--we can meet at Starbucks or something. I’m not going to rape you!”
I snorted with amusement. “What day?” I typed back to her.
“Next Monday after school.”
“Perfect. See ya there!”
I logged off thoughtfully. I actually believed her, and I figured nothing could come of an hour at Starbucks catching up with an old fling, but I didn’t tell my wife. Instead, I went with the old stand-by excuse--I’ve got a meeting after school. No sense bringing up old jealousy, right?
Monday arrived, and I found myself dressing a little more carefully. I grinned at my own vanity, but my thoughts kept jumping ahead to the afternoon. My classes dragged that day. Finally, 2:30 arrived and I made my way to the car after the rush of kids and buses had gone.
The Starbucks near my school is in a strip mall, right beside a CVS at the edge of town. When I got there, the parking lot was crammed, and I could see a line coming out the door. With a sigh, I circled the lot, found an empty space, and pulled in. As I slammed the door, I heard a familiar voice.
“I forgot that every fucking kid and their mom comes to Starbucks right after school!”
I turned to see Steph standing on the sidewalk by CVS, holding 2 cups. She was wearing a white sundress that had subtle cream stripes, and she looked amazing.
“Grande cold brew, right?” she asked me.
“Aww...” I replied sarcastically, “you remembered!”
“Come on,” she said, handing me my cup. “There’s benches out back.”
Now I stopped in there all the time, but had never been behind the store before. As it turns out, the property butted up against some wetlands, and there were enormous pine trees at the edge of the service road. Under the pines were some picnic tables. We walked back there together and sat down at an empty one.
We settled in side by side on the bench, sipped our coffees, and each lit up a cigarette.
“So give me the scoop on Arturo,” I inquired.
“Oh, my God, he’s great!” she gushed in response. “We met at a party in Brooklyn, and it turns out his family owns all kinds of different stores around the city. Since he’s from Italy, they import their stuff directly, and he’s always going back and forth and around the world picking out new stuff to sell. So I get to go, too!”
She was genuinely excited, and as we talked, I was genuinely happy for her. She loved to travel, and she definitely seemed a lot happier that she was when she was teaching. She also seemed to be genuinely in love with Arturo, and couldn’t say enough about him.
After half an hour, though, she shifted gears on me.
“There is one thing I wanted to clear up before I get married, though”
“What’s that?” I asked her.
“Well, we kind of left things on a bad note last time we...saw each other. I know I put you in a bad position, and I know I probably did that a lot when we were working together, and I feel like I used you to make myself feel happy when I wasn’t.”
“Steph,” I assured her, “that’s all water under the bridge.”
She smiled and looked relieved. Then she reached toward me and let her hand settle on my crotch, applying firm pressure while she dropped her bombshell.
“So before I tie myself down to one guy, I wanted to make up for how I treated you.”