When she entered the restaurant she saw that he was already seated. He stood and waved to her, and the hostess showed her to his table.
“Well, hello,” he greeted her, pulling out her chair. “How’s life among the natives?”
I could tell you a few things about the natives, Cindy thought. Aloud she said, “Fine. The work’s been going great and I’m almost finished. How about yours?”
Richard needed no more encouragement to regale her with the details of his project, and as he talked Cindy studied his neat brown hair, his neat tortoiseshell glasses, and his neat button-down shirt. He looked the picture of exactly what he was: an amiable career academic whose intellectual curiosity was the ruling passion of his life. He was the polar opposite of Andrew Fox, and yet attractive in his own way. She knew several women at the university who were interested in more than his credentials.
“So I should have the bibliography ready in about two weeks,” Richard was saying.
“That’s wonderful,” Cindy responded. “It sounds like you haven’t been idle. So tell me, what’s been going on at Penn?”
During drinks and dinner Richard went on about various people they both knew, in particular their department head, who had been giving him trouble. Campus politics was a labyrinth Cindy usually sought to avoid, but on this occasion she drew him out, eager to lose herself in the lives of others. They had just ordered dessert when she looked up to see Fox and a young woman being seated on the other side of the room.
Richard’s voice seemed to be coming from a distance. Cindy masked her reaction by taking a long sip of water, and then said, “Richard, I think I’ve changed my mind. I’m kind of full and I’d rather not stay for dessert. Would you mind if we left now?”
Richard, understandably confused, nevertheless agreed. He called the waitress back and rescinded their order, asking for the check instead. Cindy made a quick exit and parted company with Richard in the parking lot, where she had left Paula’s car. Paula was on duty at the hospital and Cindy had to pick her up at seven that night.
Cindy was almost sick with jealousy. She had never cared enough about a man to experience the emotion before, and she was feeling the full force of its destructive effects as she drove back to Paula’s apartment. Fox’s female companion had been very pretty, a tall, statuesque brunette, and all the way home Cindy imagined him touching her, kissing her.
Stop it, she instructed herself severely as she unlocked the door. She was behaving childishly, and she knew it. These things happened to people all the time. Just because it had never happened to her before didn’t mean she had to fall apart like a teenager disappointed in a first crush.
She changed clothes and read the newspaper, killing time until she went for Paula. The hospital lot was crowded, and Cindy maneuvered the car to the emergency exit, where Paula was waiting. She had decided not to tell her friend about seeing Fox, but the words rushed out of her mouth as soon as Paula had closed the passenger door behind her.
“You just saw him?” Paula asked.
“About an hour ago. In the Golden Door down in Council Rock. He was with some girl.”
“And how do you feel about that?” Paula asked.
“Paula, I was so jealous that I disgusted myself. I saw him ordering a bottle of wine and I wanted to go over there and pour it over both their heads.”
Paula stared at her. “You? The woman who never returned a single social call from a man during our entire four years of college unless I dialed the phone first?”
“Me,” Cindy confirmed miserably.
Paula sighed. “You must be in love.”
Cindy stopped at a red light and bent her head over the wheel. “What am I going to do? He told me he didn’t want to see me anymore, but somehow that didn’t sink in with me. I’m still reacting as if he were my exclusive property, which he never was in the first place. I feel like I’m going crazy.”
“Listen, Cindy. I haven’t told you this because I could tell that you didn’t want to discuss it, but maybe letting you go was the greatest compliment Fox could pay you.”
“What are you talking about?” Cindy asked, as the light changed and she drove ahead.
“Just this. He could have slept with you, used you for the time you were here, and then kissed you off when you left. He’s behaving honorably by his standards. Do you see that?”
“I guess so,” Cindy replied slowly. “I know he was doing what he thought was right. But it doesn’t help the pain much. Seeing him with somebody else went through me like a shot.”
“Welcome to the world of disenchanted lovers,” Paula said wryly. “See what you’ve been missing while hiding out in that ivory tower? It looks kind of safe up there from where you’re standing right now, doesn’t it?”
Cindy didn’t answer. She didn’t have to; they both knew that Paula was right.
* * * *
Paula had decided to give herself a home permanent and enlisted Cindy’s aid in rolling up her hair and applying the lotion. The smell of ammonia permeated the apartment as she sat in the bathroom waiting for the required time to elapse. Cindy was trying to watch television when her already shaky concentration was interrupted by an abrupt pounding on Paula’s door.
“Who on earth is that?” Paula called from her seclusion.
“Should I get it?” Cindy asked doubtfully, as the noise continued.
“Maybe we should call security,” Paula suggested, as the outer door, which was unlocked, burst open suddenly. Fox barged through it, his expression agitated.
“Cindy? What’s going on?” Paula demanded, emerging from the bathroom with her hair mired in tiny pink curlers. End papers stuck out in all directions from this arrangement, which was held in place by a mesh scarf tied at the back of her neck.
“Good God,” Fox said, when this vision appeared. “What’s all that on your head? You look like you’re wired for sound.”
“Never mind,” Paula snapped. “What do you mean by banging on my door like that? I was about to call the police. Haven’t you heard of doorbells?”
“I want to talk to Cindy,” he replied flatly.
“And this is how you go about it? Maybe she doesn’t want to talk to you.”
“It’s all right, Paula,” Cindy said. “I’ll see him.”
“Are you sure?” Paula asked suspiciously.
“I’m sure.”
She nodded. With a final outraged glance at Fox, Paula retired to the bathroom, slamming the door loudly.
“She’s crazy about me,” Fox said, deadpan, and Cindy suppressed a smile.
“You can hardly blame her,” Cindy said.
“You’re right about that. Since your arrival, our relationship, which wasn’t the best to begin with, has gone straight down the tubes.”
Cindy looked at him levelly. “Perhaps you’ll be good enough to tell me what all this is about?”
“You know what it’s about,” he answered tightly. “I saw you in the Golden Door tonight.”
‘‘Oh. I was hoping that you missed me.”
He nodded sourly. “I can understand why. You didn’t waste much time, did you?”
“I could say the same about you.”
“Who was that guy?” he demanded. “How do you know him?”
“You have no right to ask me these questions,” Cindy answered, turning away.
“I have every right,” he almost shouted, his eyes blazing.
She faced him again, her anger rising to meet his. “And just how do you figure that?” She shook her head incredulously. “You gave me the gate not one week ago, and now here you are grilling me like a suspicious husband. You wanted to stop seeing me; that whole scenario was your idea. Where do you get off pulling this interrogation number?”
“I did not give you the gate,” he enunciated clearly, his fists clenching and unclenching reflexively.
“Oh? What would you call it?”
“I did what I thought was best for both of us.”
“Fine. You should be happy. Then why are you here?”
“You know why I’m here. I didn’t like the looks of that guy.”
Cindy couldn’t help laughing. Richard might be mistaken for an earnest intern or a fledgling minister, but never a cloak-and-dagger type. Fox was really reaching.