Faking It (21 page)

I stood up. "Got a t-shirt or something for me to sleep in?"

He leapt up like a kid on Christmas Eve who'd just been bribed to bed by the promise of presents come morning. Soon after, we snuggled under a navy blue comforter. Sam smelled like a combination of Ivory soap and patchouli oil. I breathed in the scent and breathed out a sigh.

"What's that for?" he practically whispered, spooning me.

"This is nice," I said.

He let out his own sigh.

"What's
that
for?" I asked in mock imitation.

"There's a beautiful woman next to me in my bed."

Oh, sweet mother of pearl. Like buttuh.

Just as I was drifting off, he asked, "So what were you laughing at before?"

And as plainly as he asked the question, I plainly answered him. I told him everything, about growing up and my father and brothers and my sexual inhibitions and my current sexual status. He listened intently, asking me a question or two along the way, stroking my hair while he held me. For the first time, I harbored no anxiety or shame, no fear of rejection or judgment. And I received none. In fact, he held me even closer. "That is the coolest thing I've ever heard," he said. "Makes me feel even better about not going all the way tonight."

"I would've though," I said. "I'm ready for it. And willing."

"Not yet. When you move here, then you'll be ready. Note that I said 'when'."

"Noted," I replied, my voice growing faint.

The only part I left out was Devin and our arrangement. Okay, so maybe I harbored just a little bit of fear. All I said was that I had learned a lot in the past year and gained a lot of confidence. A re-interpreted truth.

I sighed again.

What seemed like a long time but was perhaps no more than five minutes passed.

"I hope I get the NU gig too," I said.

Eventually, I fell asleep to the rhythm of his breathing.

Chapter Twenty-one

T
HE NEXT MORNING, SAM AND I AWOKE AT ALMOST THE same time, and we fooled around for a bit before he got up to find an extra toothbrush for me and cook us breakfast. (I learned what "and stuff" was.) Feeling a chill, I put on his flannel robe and went to the bathroom to freshen up, not feeling the slightest bit of apprehension regarding my morning breath or scraggily hair.

As I descended down the creaky stairs, the smell of sizzling bacon and fresh-brewed coffee intensified. Sam stood in front of the stove, dressed in flannel pajama pants, ratty socks, a heather-gray EdmundCollege hoodie, and glasses, flipping one pancake and peeking under another. You'd think he was dressed in Armani, the way I checked him out. He seemed to be thinking the same thing about me when he saw me shuffle in.

"Hey, Gorgeous!"

I looked over my shoulder to see if there was someone else behind me. He laughed. "You are so funny, Andrea."

"Smells yummy in here," I said as I walked to where he was standing and gave him a kiss.

"Bacon and coffee are the two best smells in the world."

I begged to differ. "Hardly."

"What, then?"

"Freshly baked anything is the best smell."

"What's the worst?"

"Dead skunk."

He conceded.

He set the feast on an enormous butcher block table: bacon, sausage, pancakes and Vermont maple syrup, coffee, orange juice, and scrambled eggs.

"Holy cow!" I exclaimed as he started loading my plate. "Has my Italian grandmother taken over your body? Are you trying to give me a coronary?"

"Breakfast is the best meal of the day and you know it!"

"I like to save room for lunch and dinner, too!"

"Well, why not take a cue from the Italians and indulge in our pleasures--good food and good company."

"Buon appetito," I said.

As I slowly savored every enjoyable bite, I couldn't help but think of what Maggie said about Sam being the guy you have breakfast with. A sense of satisfaction filled me, and it wasn't just from the comfort food.

After we did the dishes, he put his arms around me. "So, what shall we do today before I so reluctantly send you back to Long Island?"

A devious look crossed my face as several ideas came to mind.

***

We held and kissed each other on the platform at South Station for a long time before we finally let go and I stepped onto the Amtrak train bound for New York. Finding it hard to concentrate on the book I'd brought to pass the time, I leaned back and relaxed in my seat, closed my eyes, and happily replayed the weekend's events in my mind until I fell asleep to the rhythm of the train's swaying and bumps across the tracks. I didn't turn my cellphone on until I got back to the city that night, where I decided to stay at Maggie's since it was so late and school resumed the next day. I called Sam to let him know I made it home safely. Then I listened to a message from Devin:
Hey Andi, it's me. I was just wondering if you got back yet. Give me a call.

Maggie grilled me about the weekend, as I'd expected her to.

"You slept with him, didn't you. I can see it on your face. So how was it?"

"Well... yes and no. Would you believe he wanted to wait?"

Her jaw dropped. "Are you kidding me?
He
did?"

I nodded my head methodically and made a "scout's honor" gesture with my fingers.

"Why?" she asked in disbelief.

"Said he didn't wanna screw me and send me off. Said he wanted us to commit to something serious before having sex. And believe me, I was all set to go. I mean, I would've done it if he changed his mind."

"Wow," she said, stunned. "I didn't think there were still guys in the world like that."

"Apparently they've all left New York."

"So you didn't do anything all weekend?"

"I didn't say that," I said, giving her a Devin-style wink.

Maggie picked up a pillow from the couch and threw it at me. "You little tease!"

I caught the pillow and threw it back at her. "What can I say? I don't kiss and tell!"

"So? Is it serious? I mean, what's going to happen?"

"I don't know yet," I said, my voice trailing off.

"When are you gonna tell Devin?"

"When there's something to tell him, I guess."

"I think there already is. After all, I'm guessing you used some of his moves this weekend."

"His instruction came in handy, yes." I paused as a thought came to me. "Do you think he had an opportunity to do some writing this weekend?"

We both took a second to ponder this, then burst into laughter. The next day, when I came back to East Meadow after school, two more messages from Devin awaited me on my landline:

Hey, are you there? Did you get lost in the wilderness somewhere? Give me a call...

Hey Andi. It's Devin...um, I guess you're not back from your visit yet. I was hoping we could catch a movie or something. It's been awhile since we've done that. Anyway, give me a call when you get this message.

I didn't call him back for another day.

***

A month passed. By the end of April, NorthamptonUniversity called to offer me the position.

Chapter Twenty-two

May

"W
HY?" MAGGIE CRIED IN HER OFFICE WHEN I BROKE the news about my leaving.

"It's a good opportunity. Writing program director, better salary, tenure track..."

"No, I mean, why didn't you tell me you were thinking of leaving?"

"Because I didn't want you to talk me out of it."

"You're damn right I would've talked you out of it. I'm going to talk you out of it now." She put her head in her hands and sighed. "The textbook is coming out just in time for the College Writing Conference in Hartford."

"So, we'll cover more ground if you're plugging it there and I'm plugging it in Northampton."

"Are you moving because of Sam?"

"I had the interview before I met Sam."

"Devin?"

I didn't answer.

"You're running away," she said, shaking and pointing her finger at me, parental-like. I sucked in a breath.

"No, I'm not. I came here because I was running away from Andrew. I've been gallivanting around Manhattan all these months, but it isn't where I belong."

"But you still love the Island. I know you do. Go to Dowling or Suffolk Community or SUNY Stony Brook. They're all hiring"

"Mags, I miss Massachusetts."

"Since when?"

"I don't know. For awhile now, I guess. Seeing Sam brought it all back."

"You'll never get a decent bagel ever again."

"I'll survive. I did before."

"Oh, fuck it," she said in defeat. "It's a directorship. You're ready for it. It's just that this place has been so much
fun
since you came. Who's going to come into my office and read me papers and talk theory and tell stories?"

That did it. We both sat and cried. Maybe Mags was right. Maybe I was running away from Devin. Or maybe I was running to Sam.

Devin and I hardly ever saw or spoke to each other anymore. I rationalized that some cosmic force was responsible, easing the painful process of separation. Could it be construed as breaking up? I wondered. We were never dating. And yet, we'd spent hours engaged in stimulation--both intellectual and sexual. We exchanged fluids of meaningful conversation, quiet, intimate moments, knowing glances, and occasional bouts of heavy breathing. We saw each other completely naked--metaphorically, that is--and tapped into all our possibilities in the midst of our flaws. Together, we practiced the craft of revision.

"Have you still not told Devin about Sam?" Maggie asked.

"I haven't really had the chance."

Maggie gave me a look of skepticism.

"Why should I tell him anything?"

"Because that might change things for him. He might admit that he has feelings for you."

"Forget it, Mags. If he hasn't said anything by now, he never will."

"Does Sam know about Devin?"

I gave her a look that said,
Stop grilling me.

"I like Sam," she said, as if casting her vote. "He's so cute. And he's obviously into you. Then again, Devin's just so..."

"...I know," I said, reading her mind, feeling that flutter I always feel when I think of him.

How was I going to tell him I was leaving? How was I going to walk away from him? Did I even want to?

***

At our usual diner, my mother and I sat opposite one another in the booth, her jacket draped over her bare shoulders, as usual.

"Sooo, Mom. I have some news."

"You're seeing someone?"

I frowned, already exasperated with her. "No--well, yeah, but that's not the news. I got a faculty and writing program administrator position at NorthamptonUniversity in Massachusetts. Professor status, tenure track, good salary. I'm moving next month."

She put her fork down onto her plate and looked at me, stunned.

"You just left there."

"I've been here for two years, Mom."

"Oh, excuse me. I didn't realize that's a lifetime."

"What's the big deal?"

"All this floating around doesn't look good on a resume, Andi."

"Who's 'floating'? I spent three years getting my PhD, a year as part-timer, and two years in a full-time, non-tenure-track teaching and administrative position. I've also published three articles, delivered papers at conferences every year since grad school, and co-wrote a textbook that's coming out any day now. So tell me where 'floating' comes in."

She remained unimpressed. "Have you told your brothers yet?"

"I called them last night."

"They're going on the road again, I think, so I don't know if they'll be able to help you with the move."

"I'll have it covered," I said, thinking of either tapping Devin or Sam--a thought of the two of them showing up and having a duel over me crossed my mind.

She picked up her fork again and poked it into her salad.

"What's this about your seeing someone?"

"His name is Sam, and he's also a writing professor."

"At Brooklyn U?"

"No, he's in Massachusetts, not far from where I'll be, actually."

"So, you're leaving for a man?"

I huffed. "Give me a little credit, Mom. I'm leaving for the
job
. Sam happened to be a pleasant surprise, a co-incidence."

"How long have you known him?"

"Since January."

"You've been long-distance dating him?"

"Pretty much."

She paused. "Well, I guess it's bon voyage, then. As long as you're happy."

"I am. Aren't
you
happy for me?"

"Sure. I guess it's back to the Cross Sound Ferry for me."

"Just remember your sunscreen," I said, deflated.

And that was that. No tearful breakdown, like Maggie. Then again, she'd never cried when I'd left the first time, nor when my brothers left. Maybe she cried when we weren't around. But I would've preferred to see some display of affection. I needed to know that she cared, that I wasn't just some acquaintance passing through her life. Hell, just once I wanted her to be
proud
of me. But I had learned to stop waiting for things that never happen.

Mags, Mom, my brothers...all done. And of course, Sam knew--he was the first person I told. He yeeee-hawwed like a cowboy.

That left one more person.

***

After two weeks of phone tagging, Devin and I finally touched base and arranged to meet at Junior's one late Tuesday afternoon. As it turned out, we sat at the same booth as the first time we'd gotten together, the day I'd proposed the arrangement. It simultaneously felt like yesterday and a lifetime ago. Our long conversations had been reduced to one-syllable small talk. Every utterance was a strain; you'd think there was an actual wall between us, and we were exerting all our strength to remove it.

"You're unusually quiet," he remarked.

The moment had arrived and I knew it. And in that instant, all fear vanished.

I paused before responding. Tears filled my eyes as I took his hand.

"I think you're my best friend," I said. The realization of the words astonished me.

I paused again.

"I love you, Dev. And I'm leaving."