The Lesson (28 page)

“Did he hurt you?” Kevin seemed genuinely alarmed.

“No.”

“Did you report it?”

“No. I wasn’t sure if he was really spying or if he was lost like he said. It was hard to tell. I hated to go to Security about him when I wasn’t sure myself.”

“Gina,” said Kevin. His voice had an edge she had not heard before. He was upset. “Let’s look at this objectively, okay? Was he carrying a sports bag?”

“No.”

“Was he suited up to work out? In gym clothes? What was he wearing?”

“He was wearing street clothes, like guys wear to class. Pants and shirt.”

“What do you see when you first enter the women’s locker room? Anything there to make a casual observer know that they’re in the women’s locker room and not the men’s?”

“Well, let me think. Women’s showers are to the left, but I suppose they look like men’s showers, too,” she said.

“Probably. I wouldn’t know.” He winked at her, and she chuckled.

“There are some women’s health posters near the door,” said Gina. “You know, like annual breast exams and stuff. And there’s a women’s hygiene machine to the right, too.”

“And what does it say outside the door to the locker room?”

Gina paused. “It says WOMEN.”

“So do you really think he accidentally walked into the women’s locker room?”

“Well …”

“Why was he hiding behind a shower curtain, Gina? You were the only person in the locker room. He could have slipped out easily without you noticing once he realized his error, because the showers are near the entrance, as you said. So why hide?”

“You’ve made your point,” she said. There was a long silence as she absorbed what he was trying to convey. She felt stupid for thinking anything other than that the man had been a Peeping Tom. “There is a positive side to this story, though."

“What?”

Gina took a few seconds to put her thoughts into words. “I’ve always been so worried about being safe. Moving into my own apartment after living in Swig Hall surrounded by other girls was a huge adjustment for me. At first I found it really hard to sleep there, alone. And I still don’t like walking home alone at night from the campus or Big Bick’s. But if anyone would have told me beforehand that I would meet a Peeping Tom in the women’s locker room, and all alone too, I would have been certain that I would have fainted dead away. But that didn’t happen. It was like the Holy Spirit came upon me and gave me a special power for the moment. I actually got mad and chased him out. And he fled.”

“Lucky for him you weren’t armed.”

“True.” Gina laughed. “But there’s one more thing I learned.”

“What’s that?” Kevin merged onto Highway 280 toward the Port of San Francisco.

“I learned that I’m never really alone.”

#

They were fortunate to find a parking space only a few blocks from Alioto’s along the Embarcadero. As they entered the famous old restaurant, a Wharf fixture that had been serving Sicilian-style seafood dinners since 1925, Gina ran her hands along the wall made of thousands of seashells that greeted them at the entrance to the dining room. She marveled to think of all the diners whose meals had contributed to the odd piece of artwork. But that was one more thing that made San Francisco unique.

Kevin asked for a table by the window, and because they had arrived early, they were able to get one directly overlooking dozens of fishing and sail boats gently bobbing in slips along the dock. The sun hung low on the horizon, glistening like liquid gold on the calm Pacific. The waiter arrived and they ordered an appetizer, a shellfish stew called Cioppino Alioto. Kevin ordered abalone for a main entrée; Gina ordered
spaghettini con vongole
, spaghetti with clams. After the waiter left with their menus and dinner order, Kevin looked across the table at Gina.

“You look beautiful tonight, Gina.” He wasn’t grinning in his usual playful way. His eyes were intent.

“You look pretty sharp yourself.” She turned to look out the window. She felt uncomfortable under his adoring stare. For once she actually wished he would crack one of his corny jokes. It would have been easier than being worshipped with his eyes. Finally he spoke.

“You’ve never told me what happened with you and Michael. The guy must have been crazy to let you go.”

She weighed the risk of telling her story. Michael was a subject she had avoided with Kevin, not because he was not sympathetic or caring—he had proved himself to be a sensitive and thoughtful listener on many subjects they’d discussed over the last few months, just as a true friend should be. But to discuss Michael with Kevin only emphasized the gulf that lay between the two, a gulf so great in every area that it seemed like bragging to talk about Michael: his education at Santa Clara University School of Law and in Italy, his new job in the family’s Berkeley law firm, his family connections and money, his fancy car. She didn’t care to draw attention to all these things and make Kevin feel in any way inferior. Kevin may not have come wrapped in the trappings of a guy on the move like Michael, but he wasn’t inferior, she had learned, just different. If he had not made his intentions toward her so obvious, she would have felt freer to speak about Michael. But after the brouhaha with Burk, she knew that Kevin had a weak point. She chose her words carefully.

“Michael wasn’t crazy. He was hurt.”

The waiter brought their stew to the table. Kevin asked a blessing, but they just sat in front of their meal without eating. Gina could see that Kevin was determined to hear her story. He sat quietly, silverware undisturbed, and waited for her to continue.

“I told you when we first met that I changed a lot my sophomore year. I never told you why. You know I was raised Catholic.
Very
Catholic. Saturday morning catechism. Stations of the cross. The sacraments. First Holy Communion. I even taught catechism classes to fifth graders for a short while at St. Justin’s when I was in high school. I used to fall asleep with a rosary in my hands, usually in the middle of my nightly prayers.

“Then I graduated from Buchser and started at Santa Clara University. When I met Michael during freshman orientation week, well, it was like I died and went to Heaven. We met at an orientation dance. But he wasn’t a freshman. He was a third-year law student. A lot of upperclassmen slip in to check out the new crop of freshmen girls.”

“I told you to keep your eye on those university guys. Slippery as snakes.” Kevin's eyes twinkled with mirth.

“Water creatures can be more dangerous than those that live on land. My mother says eels are more slippery than snakes.”

“And considered a great delicacy by sophisticated cultures around the globe.”

They laughed at their mutual puns, and then Gina continued.

“I liked everything about him, and he felt the same way about me. We fell in love the night we met. He and his family were Catholic too. That was important to my parents.

“I brought him home and my parents adored him. Especially my mother. He was so witty. He would sit and chat with my dad over a glass of wine. Michael would tell them funny stories about his studies in Florence.” It had been on the tip of her tongue to mention how beautifully Michael dressed, but she discreetly stopped the words before they had a chance to jump out. “I don’t know if they liked him the most or if they liked the fact that he was in his last year of law school and would soon have a good job—maybe it was both. He is really personable. Everybody likes Michael. I loved him … he was my hero.”

Kevin was all ears. She had never seen him so serious. No jokes. She felt it was safe to continue.

“I got to meet his family and it seemed they liked me too. We dated all through my freshman year. We were inseparable. Then by the time I was a sophomore he had graduated from law school. He passed the bar on his first try, and then of course, as we all knew would happen, his grandfather hired
him in his law firm in Berkeley. Everyone also knew by then that it was only a matter of time before we announced our engagement. That finally happened during spring break, last year. My mother put together an engagement party fairly quickly, and Michael gave me the most beautiful ring. He was feeling pretty optimistic about his career, I suppose. The diamond was enormous.

“Then only days after he slipped the ring on my finger, I was walking past a coffeehouse near the campus. It was early evening and I thought I’d go in and have some coffee and listen to Christian gospel music. I was completely out of food. Free coffee appealed to me. I knew it was a gospel place, but I had no problem with that. I was raised Catholic. The gospels are central to our doctrine. I was raised listening to the gospels as part of the Sunday mass.

“I listened to this singing group for a while as I sipped coffee. Then a speaker got up and talked about having a closer relationship to God, to Jesus Christ, and I remember thinking, ‘I want that.’ I’d been a practicing Catholic my entire life, but I knew at that moment that I wanted more. I wanted something more
intimate.
A relationship with God that was deeper and more meaningful than what I had. What’s more, I got the feeling that these people had something I didn’t have."

Kevin sat with one hand on his chin, very still, listening to every word.

"So when a young woman there asked me if I wanted to pray to have this closer relationship with God, I said yes. So then we prayed, and I asked Jesus Christ to come into my heart. And after I prayed, I was so aware of God’s presence. Kevin, it was so real and so overwhelming. I know now what the gospels mean when they talk about the pearl of great price. You’d give up everything in this world to know this sense of his nearness. It’s that good.”

“Yes, it is,” said Kevin.

“Naturally I couldn’t wait to tell Michael about what had happened to me. But when I did, I was so unprepared for his response.” Gina closed her eyes at the memory, steadying herself.

“What happened?”

“He was angry. He didn’t want me to have anything to do with this new experience. He thought I’d joined a cult. I realize now that his anger stemmed from hurt. He felt like he had lost something. He didn’t want the new me. He wanted the old me. My parents felt the same way.”

“That must have been hard.”

“
Hard
is an understatement. The most traumatic event of my life would be more like it.

“But it got worse, because then I decided that I wanted to get baptized. After what I’d just been through, my sprinkling as a baby didn’t seem so meaningful anymore. I wanted to do something public, to tell the world that I had met Jesus Christ in a personal way. I still feel a great debt to the Catholic Church though, because I believe that God used it, and all those wonderful nuns and priests and lay volunteers to prepare me for this very experience. I love those people.

“But all those warm and fuzzy feelings didn’t help when I decided to get baptized. All Hell broke loose.” Gina rolled her eyes, remembering. “Michael made it very plain. If I got baptized the engagement was off. I thought about it for several days, and I decided that, as much as I loved Michael, my relationship to God was more important. I got baptized and, true to his word, Michael took back the ring.” Gina unconsciously glanced down at her left hand. “I haven’t spoken to him since."

Kevin gently reached across the table and put his hand over hers. His touch felt good, and this time, it seemed right. She did not pull away.

“The firestorm after my baptism was bad enough, but when Michael broke off the engagement, my parents went ballistic, especially my mother. But how do you explain spiritual things, invisible things, like this to your parents? To anybody? I tried but it only made things worse. I don’t visit with them too much now because we always seem to end up in a shouting match about my love life or lack thereof. They’re still mourning Michael.”

“So that’s why you don’t run to them when your car breaks down or you’re out of groceries?”

“That’s right.”

Just then the waiter delivered their entrées to the table. The luscious smell of clams in white wine and butter sauce was intoxicating. Gina just hoped she could keep from slopping any onto her white halter top.

As they ate the sun slipped down into the Pacific, leaving a burst of pink on the western sky that shimmered in symmetry on the water. The candle that burned in the center of their table seemed more alive now than when they had first arrived.

“I have to confess, though,” and she blushed as she spoke, “My poor parents had good reason to think they were losing their daughter. I went a little crazy.”

“In what way?”

“I turned into an ascetic, though for the life of me I can’t figure out why I thought God expected that of me. I threw out all my fancy clothes. Well, almost all of them.” She glanced down at her satin halter and short, flouncy skirt.

“I’m glad you didn’t throw out that outfit,” said Kevin.

Gina smiled. “I threw out all my perfumes and expensive soaps and even gave away an expensive cloisonné compact my Uncle Charlie and Aunt Shirley gave me for my eighteenth birthday. No wonder my parents thought I’d lost my mind. I don’t blame them for worrying about me. But I’ve settled down a bit since then. I hope I’m more balanced. I try. Things are still strained with my parents but at least we’re talking to each other. In between the shouting, I mean.”