Day 4

My conversation with Robbie was interrupted when we both became aware of Mrs. Fisher trying to unobtrusively tiptoe into the kitchen behind us.

“Mrs. ----‘s drifted off to sleep now. How about some lunch?”

Robbie slid to the end of the couch near the door and shook his head.

“No, I’ve got to be getting to class, and—“ he said, as though he knew exactly what the next question would be, “I can’t make it for dinner tonight, either.”

Robbie turned to me and added with a wink, “Rose and I have plans tonight.” And he continued, to both of us now,

“But since Gennie’s back in town, I’ll definitely be coming around here a lot. You’ll be sick of me.”

Mrs. Fisher, in the kitchen now, peered around the corner, smiling. “We could never get tired of this one. He’s too handsome.”

Robbie blew us both kisses as he disappeared around the door.

Suddenly exhausted, I told Mrs. Fisher that I was going upstairs. She promised to save some lunch for me in the refrigerator. I ascended the stairs, made it to my room, and nearly instantly fell asleep with the weight of the day.

My dreams were blurry and incoherent, the way afternoon naps often are. Imbued with the sense of hot sun streaming in, the dreams were tropical and foreign. And yet, familiar faces appeared and reappeared throughout. At one point, I dreamt that I stood out in the water, while John stared at me from the shore. Farther down the beach, Robbie, my mother, and Uncle Paul danced in a circle while dressed as island natives. I felt the water rise around me, but I was immobilized.

I woke up when phone rang. I knew it was John before Mrs. Fisher knocked on the door to say that the call was for me. John and I had always been on the same wavelength. Or at least we were once. I was surprised he hadn’t called sooner.

“I wanted to give you your space,” he explained. I was silent. “To spend time with your family.” Again, I could not speak. John continued, “I wish you could talk to me. I can’t take the silence.”

“I want to talk to you, John, I do. But I need time to think.”

“I don’t know what’s wrong, and I don’t know why you felt you had to go, but I just hope you remember that I love you. You remember that, right?”

Tears rushed to my eyes, and my voice choked. “And I love you. But I have to do this right now. I just have to.”

“How long will it take, Gennie?”

“I don’t know. I’m sorry.” I knew that I was causing him pain; I knew that my explanations were insufficient. But I couldn’t offer him the words he wanted to hear; I couldn’t talk to anyone about it. Not yet. Not until I knew what I was going to do.

The first week of college classes can be confusing, exciting, and overwhelming. But I didn’t expect it to be so exhilarating. Before I began, I dreaded the bus ride from Nona’s house to campus every day. But that all changed.

Yesterday, I boarded the bus and found it packed with people. There were only a few open seats. Luckily, I saw a man I recognized from one of my classes. He was tall and handsome with gold rimmed glasses and hair cropped close to his head. His eyes were crystal blue, and I felt instantly safe when I sat down next to him.

I began talking about our Sociology class. At first, he nodded, but eventually, he stopped me in mid-sentence, and said,

“I should tell you; I’m not in any Sociology classes. In fact, I’m a graduate student in English Literature.”

I was mortified. I’d felt so sure. “Sorry,” I stammered, “I thought you looked so much like someone in my class.”

“Actually, my younger brother is taking some courses at Amesville State, and people always say we look like twins. I should have said something sooner; it’s not often such a gorgeous girl starts talking to me on the bus.”

I was relieved that he was so kind about it, and I couldn’t help blushing at the compliment. We began to talk about ourselves. He described his research on the writings of James Joyce and his desire to teach at a small liberal arts college when he was done. I told him about the classes I was taking and my uncertainty about what the future held. That bus ride went by faster than ever.

We both got off the bus at the university. He asked me if I’d like to go to lunch sometime. I was nearly speechless with excitement, but I managed to stammer a “yes.” He told me when and where, and I agreed wholeheartedly.

As he prepared to walk off, he said, “By the way, I’m John.” I think I’m in love.