Unlovely (24 page)

She liked Peter's romantic caution and
thought they were well-matched. The women he'd been involved with before were
probably the over-eroticized types Claudia had known in college. She could
provide the difference he was certainly seeking at this stage in his life.
Claudia wasn't like most women, and given the opportunity, she was confident
she could win his heart.

Claudia reached into the freezer to remove the box of
Klondike Bars, the only ice cream available in the kitchenette. Other ice cream
bars had sticks, and sticks could be sharpened and used by a distraught patient
to hurt himself or others. Scooping ice cream from a gallon container could be
a messy business, and most of the patients lacked either the rudimentary
housekeeping skills or the will to clean up after themselves, as evidenced by
trails of sugar and small puddles of coffee on the counter. So, they ate a lot
of Klondike Bars.

"What do you think you're
doing?"

Claudia jumped at the imperious tone and
jerked her head around to see who'd spoken. Evelyn was standing in the
entrance.

"I'm getting a Klondike bar."

"Me, too."

"Okay," Claudia responded
cautiously, noting the malevolent expression on Evelyn's face. She glanced into
the box. "Geez. I'm sorry. There's only one left."

Evelyn walked further into the kitchen.
"So are you going to be a bitch, or do I get it?"

Stunned speechless, Claudia found it
hard to believe that this was the same muddled woman she'd met on her first day
at the facility, the woman who'd been convinced that she was a ballerina.
Claudia was concerned about what Evelyn would do next, but the sight of Jeff
walking toward the kitchen with a coffee mug in hand gave her courage.

"I was planning to eat it,
yes."

Evelyn took another step until she was
only an arm-length away. Her tee shirt had a picture of a kitten on it with a
caption that read, "Someone thinks I'm purr-
fect
!"
Claudia found herself wondering which she hated more: the cloying kitten or the
face above it.

"You knew I was coming and so you
ran in here before me," Evelyn accused. "You're a bitch, Claudia. You
think you're better than everyone else here, but you're the most worthless
human being I've ever known. You can go to hell."

"It's just ice cream. Don't you
think you're taking this a little too seriously?" Claudia asked as Jeff
entered, maintaining her dignity as best she could. The tension in the room was
obvious, and the counselor sized up the situation immediately.

"Is there a problem?"

"Claudia took the last ice
cream," Evelyn said, her narrowed eyes focused unblinkingly on Claudia's
face. Claudia just stared at the kitten.

"That's not a problem," he
soothed. "I'll ask Mary Ann to go down to the cafeteria kitchen to get
another box. There'll be more ice cream here in ten minutes."

"I don't want to wait ten
minutes," Evelyn countered, her gaze unwavering.

"I'll wait," Claudia offered.

"No," Jeff said firmly.
"You don't have to. Evelyn can wait with me in here. I'll just call down
to Mary Ann and ask her to bring up some Klondike Bars. Go ahead into the
common area and eat."

Claudia shrugged, pulled out the bar and
tossed the empty box into the bin. Unwrapping it as she walked by Evelyn, she
headed to the common area with her head down, not wanting to meet the older
woman's furious gaze. She picked an easy chair out of view of the kitchenette.
Maggie spied Claudia from her room and came out to join her.

"I liked her better crazy."

"I know. Once the meds are
balanced, the true self emerges," Maggie whispered.

"I was scared of her when I came,
but that was nothing compared to now. When is she out of here?"

"Her nephew is supposed to pick her
up the day after tomorrow. She'll be his problem soon."

Claudia swallowed a big bite and winced
at the cold. "Can they really let her go home when she's acting like that?
She's awful!"

"She came in to get her
prescriptions straightened out. She's not delusional or anything. She's not
depressed. She's just a terrible human being."

Claudia laughed. "No, seriously. How
do they know it isn't medical?"

"Don't laugh! I'm serious. I talked
to her nephew about it the last time he visited – I sort of hinted around it.
He told me she's always been nasty, used to hit him and his cousins when he was
a kid. Then her meds got screwed up and she turned loopy."

"Hmm," Claudia thought this
over. Since starting medication herself she didn't feel like a completely
different person. She felt like she'd been a radio out of tune, and now the
static was gone. She was back. She could cope. The meds had been good for her.

"It'll be weird without Evelyn
here," Claudia said, folding the wrapper into a tiny square of foil.

"Are you kidding? It'll be great
without Evelyn here."

Claudia laughed again. "You're
right."

The logistics in the battle for Peter's heart presented
difficulties: first among them, the fact that Claudia and he rarely saw one
another. Claudia's path didn't naturally cross his in the course of the day;
the science classrooms were downstairs and on the opposite wing of school from
the language ones. It was a small school, but still, until recently, she had
walked down that hall only a handful of times. She generally kept to herself
and the faculty knew it. If she planned to enter Peter's orbit, she had to find
a legitimate reason to be there.

Claudia decided to get better acquainted
with the biology teacher, whose classroom was a couple of doors down from
Peter's. Peggy Brindle was good friends with Linda Bauer and had been persuaded
to join the Latin Reader's Theater as well, so she and Claudia had an activity
in common. For the past couple of years they'd merely exchanged nods before and
after club meetings, but suddenly Peggy found herself regularly cornered by
Claudia, who sought advice about how to bring her houseplants back from the
dead and who confessed to always having had an interest in biology, ever since
she was a child. That Claudia had only one plant in her rooms, a cactus, Mrs.
Brindle didn't need to know. The science teacher was warm-hearted and gregarious,
and it was easy to befriend her. Soon Claudia had an excuse to wander down the
science hall once or twice a week.

Next, she had to find a way to spend
time with Peter. This bit of business had to be done with subtlety and care –
mustn't be too obvious about it – and Claudia planned accordingly. She
developed a routine: after sticking around her German classroom for about five
minutes at the end of the day to make sure none of her own students wanted to
see her, she would quickly freshen her face and comb her hair, and then head
down to visit with the biology teacher.

As luck would have it, Peggy had an old,
incontinent dog at home. Rufus was so miserable without her that she was only
able to stay after school for twenty minutes or so. Of course Claudia
understood; she was happy to visit for whatever few moments Peggy could spare.
They would chat affably about the events of the day while Peggy gathered her
books and papers, and then when she had to leave, they would walk out together.
Claudia made a point of speaking a bit louder while they talked in the hallway
so that Peter might be able to hear her, and in that way become accustomed to
the sound of her voice and the fact of her presence in his territory. Claudia
imagined it was like acclimating a puppy to the sounds created by a new
neighbor. She didn't want to make Peter nervous or skittish.

This continued for about a month, and it
was a good month. Claudia poured her energy and imagination into her pursuit of
Peter Tomlinson. It occupied her completely. Her dreams changed, for the most
part, from violent to romantic, and Peter's face was forever in her mind's eye.
She even forced herself to eat a little more, careful never to miss a noon meal
since Peter might be in the dining hall. Eating regularly again added a couple
of badly needed pounds to her frame. Unfortunately, the weight didn't go to her
face, but to her thighs, where it accumulated unnoticed under her wool skirts.

One afternoon Claudia bade goodbye to
Peggy after a quick visit and then, instead of walking out with her, wandered
down the hall in the opposite direction. Passing Peter's open door she took a
quick peek: as she had anticipated, there was no student asking for help with
chemistry equations on a Friday afternoon. Peter was alone and sifting through
papers, his hair falling across his forehead just so perfectly. He was humming!
She didn't recognize the song, but she appreciated his joyful spirit.

"Oh, hello!" Claudia chirped,
poking her head in. "Grading papers?"

Peter looked up and smiled. Delight
tingled in Claudia's toes.

"I could take a break. Come on
in."

He gestured to her to take the seat next
to his desk and she did. She was pleased, but not really surprised, that
everything was going so smoothly. This was meant to be.

"You're the German instructor,
right?" She nodded. "Claudia, is it? Please forgive me. I don't see
you too often." He brushed the unruly hair back from his brow with his
beautifully manicured hand. Strong and brown. A man's hand.

"Yes, that's right," Claudia
answered, excited to hear him pronounce her name.

Peter pushed his chair back from the
desk so he could cross his legs. He crossed them the European way, like Cary
Grant. He was elegant in repose. A gentleman.

"So why are you slumming it down in
the labs? Are you looking to shake it up a little with the scientists?"
His eyes flashed when he said it. Peter Whimsy.

Claudia admired his boldness. "I
guess you could say that. I was just visiting Peggy and I thought I'd take a
look around down here."

The conversation that followed was very
encouraging. It was only small talk, to be sure, little more than that, but the
best kind of small talk. Peter wanted to know all about Claudia: where she was
from, where she'd gone to college, why she'd gone into her field. She asked the
same questions of him. The essential information exchanged was of the nature
necessary to begin a true friendship. Moreover, Claudia felt the tone was
lighthearted and even flirtatious. She came away feeling very good about her
progress.

Within a couple of weeks, Claudia had all but abandoned
her friendship with Peggy Brindle, stopping by for a perfunctory hello before
heading straight to Peter's room. It was taking a chance, she knew, to be the
aggressor in the relationship, but what options did she have with a man as
reticent to settle down as Peter Tomlinson?

Despite his warm receptions when she
appeared in his doorway, she still felt compelled to provide some sort of
excuse for dropping by, so as not to appear overly eager. Her
modus operandi
was to ask Peter for advice. There was an inexhaustible supply of dilemmas to
ask him about, things of a professional nature and, in time,
a
personal one. She made a new list every week.

Claudia would show up in Peter's
classroom at the end of the school day with two steaming Styrofoam cups of
coffee.

"I hope you're not too busy,"
she would say, setting down the cups and taking the seat beside his desk.
"Could I trouble you to share your wisdom for a moment?"

That would do it – she was in. Then Claudia
would ask whatever question she had come up with that day: What did Peter do
when he caught a student cheating, when he wanted to show mercy, but suspected
he shouldn't? (Claudia preferred to be merciless, but she knew how to convey
tender femininity and compassion when necessary). How would Peter handle a
discussion with the headmistress about an increase in salary? Did Peter have
any ideas about how to raise funds for the German Club trip? She wasn't going,
of course, but her students were so excited about it that she felt she simply
must help them.

Peter would patiently hear out Claudia's
queries, nodding and smiling occasionally, his eyes scanning whatever papers
cluttered his desk. Now and then, shyly, he would raise his head to meet
Claudia's gaze. He would commiserate with her if she seemed particularly upset,
then promise that he would think about it and get back to her soon. This was
his endearing way to get to see her twice. At least, Claudia found it endearing
for several months, but eventually it became frustrating. Peter was always
friendly and polite, to be sure, but he was never really flirtatious, not like
he seemed to have been at first. He would get back to her the next day with
some ideas – occasionally with only a few words on a sticky note – but then
that would be it. No invitation to dinner, a movie or an afternoon on his
sailboat was forthcoming.

Claudia tried entering the dining hall
at the same time as he for lunch, in hopes that he would invite her to join him
at his table, but her timing was terrible: the few times they approached the
door at the same time and she began to suggest they sit together, it turned out
he was actually just popping in for a moment and had to be on his way. A couple
of times she bumped into him "accidentally" as an encouragement to
physical contact, actually rubbing a breast against his upper arm, and she got
nothing in return. She began to worry that there was something really wrong
with Peter. He wasn't normal. Still, since she had chosen him and invested so
much time in him, she would see this enterprise through, come hell or high
water.