Befitting the theme, a romantic coupling by, unbeknownst to them, siblings.
Cupid's Gifts
Susan Smith, PhD, laughed, if a bit nervously, as she watched her colleague, Gabe Richards, as he skittered across the icy sidewalk, struggling to maintain his balance. Remarkably, he didn't drop any of the files he was carrying. Just as he reached the far side of the sidewalk, Sue felt her off side rear wheel fall into the pot hole she had successfully navigated around since it had appeared nearly two weeks ago.
She knew from watching other drivers the only way out was in reverse. She shifted gears, eased back out, made her way around the hole and into the faculty parking area. One of the perks of the small Midwestern school was assigned faculty parking. She drove to her space, coincidentally adjacent to that of the man she had just watched perform his impromptu ice ballet. Gathering her bag and brief case, she made her way into the Psych Building, carefully avoiding the black ice area Gabe's performance had warned her about.
When she had joined the faculty that Fall, she had been given an individual office, not much bigger than a large closet, one of several on the top floor of the building. She got off the elevator and turned toward her office, to meet the Department secretary. "Susan, thank goodness, I caught you," said the older woman.
"We had to move your office, yours and Gabe Richards'. The thaw over the weekend did something to the roof and created a leak. Part of the ceiling over your two offices came down. There doesn't appear to be any other damage in your office. We moved your desk, file cabinet and bookshelves to a double office down on five, five-o-seven, I believe. Just look for Gabe, he has the keys. You know him don't you?" Sue nodded.
The secretary went on, "He did his undergraduate work here, fifteen or twenty years ago, now, since he graduated. Met his wife here. Pity, about her. Well, I'm sure you two will get along for the rest of the semester. If you need anything, let me know." And she left the bewildered young assistant professor standing there.
Sue continued toward her old office, to see just what had happened. She found two workmen starting to remove the remains of her ceiling. Approximately a third of the plaster construction was spread over the visitor's area of her office floor. One of the workmen, the regular maintenance man for the building, saw and recognized her. "Hi, there, Dr. Smith. Guess we were lucky it happened over the weekend so nobody got hurt. We've moved your furniture and everything down to 5, into the grad student office next to the Behavior Lab. You'll be in with Dr. Richards; his office was on the other side of that wall," he said pointing to the wall across from the door. "His ceiling came down, too."
"Was there any other damage?"
"Just some water damage in the ceiling, including shorting out the lights on this side of the corridor. None of your stuff was damaged that we could see, just a little dust and debris. We brushed off the bigger pieces."
"Thanks, Hank. I guess I'll go meet my new office mate."
###
She found her new office with no problem. The door was open, Gabe inside, trying to arrange his area so it was comfortable and efficient. Sue walked in and watched him for a few seconds. She saw a good looking man, in his early forties, his hair just starting to show some silver at the temples. A bit bigger than average build, his carriage reflected time in the military.
She cleared her throat to get his attention. When he turned, she asked "Dr. Richards?" When he nodded, she introduced herself, "Susan Smith, I'm your new office mate." She smiled, then added, "I saw your ice ballet as you were coming in this morning. Do you suppose the gods are trying to tell you something, that, and then walking into this?"
"I doubt it. My gods aren't that subtle. If they had a message, they'd probably e-mail, or at least messenger pigeon it to me. Hi, glad to meet you at last. I've seen you around, but somehow, last semester, we never seemed to cross paths except at that awful President's faculty mixer."
Without seeming to check her out, Gabe saw an attractive, early 30-something, tall, dark haired, blue eyed, slim woman who looked more like one of her students, than a college professor. Her long oval face and big blue eyes made her look like a Modigliani painting, but Modigliani would never have painted that small of a bust, 34A+, maybe.
"The room is practically square, and the door is essentially midline, so I took the liberty of dividing the space by a line between the door and the middle of the windows. Since the window faces mostly north of northwest, neither of us will have to contend with a lot of glare. I had the workmen place your desk next to the window so you could face the door. If that's not satisfactory, I can help you move it. "
"That's fine, thank you. I might have to back it up just a little. I like to be able to reach my books without stretching or moving a lot. But I'll try this for a bit to see."
She looked at the gallery mounted photographs he was hanging on the wall. Some were landscapes, natural and surreal, trees and machines, oddly twisted and strewn about. Some were men, in uniform, in battledress, some twisted in pain, some lounging nude on an island beach. Some were women, all nude, featuring the play of light and shadow on their bodies or portions of their bodies, some in the studio, some in outdoor settings.
"These are great photos. Are they yours?"
"Yes. The men, and the battlefield pictures," he said, pointing to the surreal landscapes, "I took when I was in the service. I was a combat photographer. That was a bit of a misnomer, I never actually got to be in combat to take any photos; but when the fighting was done, and the enemy gone or captured, it was my assignment to record all the carnage I could.
"When I got out, I bought an RV, grabbed my wife and spent a year on the road, photographing all the beauty and grandeur I could find, from the Maine coast to California, from the Columbia River to the Everglades, and everything in between.
"I became fascinated with the interplay of light and shadow, and how we see light and dark. Then, when I listened to music, I found myself attending to the absences of sound as well as the sounds themselves. Pretty soon I was working on a graduate degree in Psych, concentrating on Perception, and here I am."
"Well, if you ever get tired of teaching, it looks like you could make a living with your camera."
"Thank you. The nudes did help pay for grad school. If I had to, I suppose I could again, but it's not something I would look forward to doing." In the hall, a bell sounded. Gabe looked at his watch. "Oops, I have a class. Maybe we could have coffee, or a drink later. I have to run; my class is in the Fine Arts Center. Later." And he was gone.
Sue laughed to herself, watching him hurry out the door. She looked around at her new office space. Considering that he had never talked to her before this morning, he had done a remarkably good job arranging her space. She found the nearby restroom and grabbed several paper towels, wetting about a third of them. Back in their office, she started wiping the dust and debris which the movers had left on their desks and bookcases.
She met her undergraduate Developmental Psychology class, mostly juniors, and announced the room change, with the caveat that, while her office hours were unchanged, for the foreseeable future, they would have to be by appointment only since she was now sharing an office. This minim of a change was met with no discernible response.
