Will She or Won't She?

Strong sun, that bleach

The curtains of my room, can you not render

Colourless this dress I wear?-

This violent plaid

Of purple angers and red shames; the yellow stripe

Of thin but valid treacheries; the flashy green of kind deeds done

Through indolence high judgments given here in haste;

The recurring checker of the serious breach of taste?

No more uncoloured than unmade,

I fear, can be this garment that I may not doff;

Confession does not strip it off,

To send me homeward eased and bare;

All through the formal, unoffending evening, under the clean

Bright hair,

Lining the subtle gown. . .it is not seen,

But it is there.

-Edna St. Vincent Millay

He had picked up the envelope in his school mailbox plainly addressed to 'Mr. Cosetti". Inside, Frank had found an unfamiliar poem by an early twentieth century writer. There was no accompanying message, but he knew who had sent it to him. He leaned forward and placed both elbows on his desk. The math teacher perused the words carefully, trying to fathom their meaning.

Did the sender feel guilty over an almost innocent kiss? Did she want him to know there would be no more private meetings to discuss their common perceptions of the community hospital's serious problems? Were her roles as head nurse and wife of a local Baptist minister incompatible with Frank's desire to find help in making big changes in the running of the medical facility? Or most dangerously of all did she realize that he was hoping to have found a soul mate.

It had begun innocently enough at a parent-teacher conference. His first impression of Amanda Harrington's mother was quite stereotypical. As she approached his desk he saw a conservatively dressed woman as one might expect of a ministerster's spouse. Her gray skirt hung down an inch below the knees and could not hide the fact that her legs were firm and very sexy. The attractive early-fortyish woman was happy to hear how very well her teenage daughter was doing in Frank's tough physics class. Their conversation had turned interesting when Anne mentioned how little time she had to check on Amanda's school activities considering her job at the local hospital and clinic.

"Believe me, Mrs.. Harrington I know what you're saying", Frank responded. "Between the classroom and coaching, I see very little of my own daughter unless it's here in school."

"Please. It's Anne, " she said, smiling at him from beneath her long dark lashes. He then noticed then the biggest brown eyes he had ever seen. There was a warmth and depth to them that seemed quite remarkable. She was a brunette with a strong chin and nose, high cheekbones and a mischievous laugh. "Half way between a Roman matron and a Greek goddess," he thought, irreverently.

"Okay then, it's Frank on this end ", he responded laughing.

Something clicked, inexplicably, unconsciously, and without premeditation. Frank sensed immediately that this was a woman he might be able to trust. He was ready to commence his fight against the man who held the hospital board in thrall and its employees in fear. He was starting to branch out and look for allies . He took the first step.

"Your know I've been on the hospital board for two years now. Speaking frankly we had hoped that the computer upgrade would do a lot in the central office to make things more efficient and less time consuming for the whole staff."

She looked at him for just a second with a somewhat quizzical expression on her face. A hospital and clinic wracked with a climate of fear and other serious morale problems, a budget disaster in the making, allegations of sexual harassment and other problems too numerous to mention were not about to "fixed" by a few new computers.

"Some people think there are a lot of other problems besides office inefficiency Mr.Cosetti... I mean Frank. Staff morale, for one."

Frank nodded carefully, adding, "but few are willing to talk. Could you give me any insights?"

"Okay. I will think on it. Jobs are not very secure there, you know. There is no tenure like teachers enjoy."

With that she stood up suddenly, nodded politely and quietly left. Distracted from the serious topic by her abrupt departure, Frank watched her walk out the classroom door. Anne had a reasonably narrow waist for a woman with several children. Her hips swayed just provocatively enough to draw one's attention. He had already observed the swell of her modestly large bust beneath her white blouse.

Wondering if he had totally scared her off, he smiled as the next set of parents entered his room. It would be a long day. Parent-teacher days always were and then he remembered that tomorrow he would be out of the classroom helping the 12th grade English teacher chaperone her annual field trip to The Playhouse In The Hills.

Shakespeare for teenagers. He chuckled to himself thinking the skeptical youths usually ended up thoroughly enjoying the bard.

The next morning, with the kids on the bus, Frank was the last person to file aboard. Finding Ms. Bachman, the English teacher waving to him, he realized she had saved a seat.

"Morning, Cheryl." he mumbled, wishing he had remembered to bring his morning coffee.

It was then he noticed Anne Harrington and another mother seated across the aisle. Saying hello to those two ladies as well, he sighed in satisfaction as Cheryl slipped him a Styrofoam cup of coffee.

"It's the least I can do for the volunteer help." she added.

When he turned to strike up a conversation with Anne, he noticed a book in her lap. It was perhaps the first "modern" book in political science. "The Prince" by Nicolo Machiavelli. The seeming incongruity of it almost forced him into a double-take. A minister's wife reading "The Prince"? Then it dawned on him. She was sending him a signal. She knew and understood the game he had proposed. A nasty dirty game called "office politics." A game with jobs and reputations at stake. At that moment he knew for certain the minister's wife surely didn't fit any obvious stereotypes.That evening found Frank and Anne returning to their cars in the high school parking lot. It had been an exhausting but exhilarating day. The play, "A Midsummer Night's Dream", had been especially well done and the kids seemed to have thoroughly enjoyed it.

Anne slipped into her driver's seat and looked up at the handsome math teacher. As she began getting acquainted with him, she started to sense that teacher and coach roles hardly seemed adequate to describe him . They had sat together on the return trip from the play and he had proved conversant in 19th century romantic poetry and music as well as classical Greek drama. When he had questioned her willingness to discuss "The Prince" she knew he was not talking about the politics of the Italian city-states.

She nodded in the affirmative adding, throatily, "but not here and not now. I don't think it would be a good idea for us seen together at school discussing hospital politics, she said.

Closing her car door, Frank learned down to her through the open window.

"How about meeting me at the hiking trailhead to Fern Springs?. You know, in the parking lot at the County Park?" he asked.

"Fine. I know the place. When?

"Seven o'clock tomorrow night?"

"Okay" was her only response as she drove off.

He waited patiently in his car in the deserted parking lot. It was already getting dark with that evening chill of early November. He wondered if she would really show up. The he saw the headlights coming down the road through the woods. She slipped gracefully into the passenger seat of his SUV.

"Hi. Sorry I'm late but you know how that goes."

He nodded and noticed how relaxed she seemed. Almost as if there was nothing unusual about a clandestine meeting with a married man in a deserted parking lot. Life in a small rural town in the 19 eighties had somewhat different social norms from those of the big cities She immediately got right down to business explaining to him the incredible amount of disaffection on the hospital staff. All of it aimed at their chief administrator, Dr. Charles Benson. Finally, after almost an hour, she stopped almost out of breath.

"There is more of course, but I think that's enough for one night."

"I don't know how to thank you enough for all the information you've given me tonight and the risk you..." he started to say, leaning closer to her in his earnestness. It had happened without any forethought on his part. Yes, he had thought of her in sexual way but the reason for their meetings wasn't about that. In addition, there had never been a direct hint that she was interested in him in any way other than for their common goal of "fixing" the hospital.

She was closer than he expected. She was leaning toward him and their lips met gently at first. She held the kiss. It was, he thought at first, an almost chaste kiss of mutual trust. Then he felt her tongue probing, then finding his tongue. A French kiss? He couldn't have been more surprised. He later began to wonder if the whole basis of their relationship was about to change so quickly?

The answer turned out to be no. The poem he found in his school mailbox suggested, perhaps, she was having second thoughts about their relationship. Deciphering poetry had never been a strong suit of his though and he didn't want to jump to any certain conclusions.

The upshot was as if that passionate kiss had never happened. It was just never mentioned. She continued contacting him by email and phone. Their meetings in out of the way places, which now included long walks and even some handholding continued as well. It was almost a year before the first "breakthrough" occurred.

Anne had provided contacts with disgruntled hospital employees and concerned community member's as well as inside information on fiscal irregularities. It was nasty business probably nothing illegal on their part but still nasty. Then, finally, came a board meeting at which two additional board members beside Frank joined the cabal. Two more votes were still needed on the eight member board to fire the hospital administrator but progress was finally being made.

Frank had called Anne's cell number as soon as the hospital board meeting had adjourned. She agreed to meet him and suggested her husbands church. It was dark by the time he arrived in the otherwise deserted church parking lot. Her car was there but otherwise the church looked empty.

Rick found the front door unlocked though and slipped inside. The sanctuary had a spooky air about it in the moonlight. Then he saw a beam of light coming out from a door to the left of the foyer. Church office" it said. He knocked and that soft husky voice he knew so well said, "come in."

Anne was worried. The letter she held in her hand was the cause. It was from an attorney, acting on behalf of Dr. Benson. Benson was demanding that she submit to him a letter of apology for "publicly defaming his professionalism and integrity." Furthermore she was to name any contacts she had made "in her efforts to solicit false testimony against him for sexual harassment."

She looked up as her teacher friend cautiously entered the office. He found her sitting behind her husband's desk.

"Something got you down?" he asked.

She reached out to hand him the letter and pointed to the chair at the side of the desk. A frown soon appeared on Frank's face as he began to peruse the letter. Then he looked at her smiling.

"This is a crock, Anne. Their bluffing and even more importantly I've already had three women call me and indicate they are willing to testify against Benson before the State Human Rights Commission on charges of sexual harassment. Sneaky as he is I don't think Benson can wiggle his way of out this business. Besides the Hospital Board refused tonight to approve his customary annual raise, which leads me to believe he had a much worse day than you did!"

With that Frank stood up and held out his hand to a visibly relieved looking Anne. He pulled her up from her seat and she wobbled for just a second.

"Steady now," he reassured her as he turned out the office lights and they entered the sanctuary.

Anne had expected to be locking up the church and escorted to her car. Instead she found herself walking hand in hand down the aisle toward the altar. It was there at the steps to the altar they stopped and puzzled she saw him bow his head. She had never envisioned him as the praying type, still she heard him say "thank you lord for protecting us against the evil tyrant."

The he sat down on the upper step drawing her with him. He was staring intently at her. His eyes seemed almost to be boring through her.

"What is it?" she asked touching his face with her hand.

To be continued in Chapter 2