It's Bliss (16 page)

Lora hadn’t expected Billie to be so nice. It mitigated her jealousy somewhat, but not for long. When Billie invited her in and Lora saw that her apartment was just the kind she herself wanted, the jealousy came back in a rush. It wasn’t fair! She also learned that Billie’s apartment was only three blocks from her parents home at 303 Maple Avenue.

After leaving Billie’s place, Lora drove past the nearby Bliss home. It took her breath away. It was a beautiful old, three-story home. The yard was perfectly landscaped and well kept. No doubt they had a gardener. Why was Billie chosen as one of the four project participants? she thought bitterly. She didn’t need any help with the expenses of her schooling!

All of a sudden, a thought struck Lora. Could those movies Dr. Ackerman rented have anything to do with Billie? She had learned from Vickie Blume that he was the one who was counseling Billie. The idea was tantalizing. If by any chance it was true, what could she do with the information? What should she do? At the moment, she didn’t know, but, she mused, this kind of juicy information might come in handy some time.

-

Wednesday after class, Billie knocked on Dr. Ackerman’s office door. She could see him through the blinds, his head studiously bent over something as he yelled, “Come in.”

Billie opened the door and stepped in. “Good morning, Dr. Ackerman.”

He looked up. “Bliss!” he exclaimed, his face lighting up. “I mean, Miss Bliss,” he corrected himself and grinned. “It’s nice of you to drop in.” For some reason her presence brought to his mind snatches from the poem “Pippa Passes” by Robert Browning: “
Pippa passes. . . God’s in his heaven—All’s right with the world!
”

Greatly pleased at his reaction, Billie said, “It’s nice
to
drop in, Dr. Ackerman. How are your arms?”

He looked puzzled. “My arms?”

“
Are they sore from juggling?”

“
Oh.” He chuckled. “Not a bit sore. I’m very muscular and strong you see.”

Billie giggled. “I’m glad of that. My arms needed a rest. I came by to invite you to my home tonight or tomorrow night to see one or two of my collection of romantic movies so that you can learn what a romantic movie is.”

“
Oh?” He smiled. “That sounds like a logical and sensible thing to do at this time. I do need to refresh my memory on the subject. I think that it had better be tonight because I have several appointments tomorrow evening here in my office concerning the issue of . . .” he cleared his throat, “romance.”

She blinked. “You do? I appreciate all the work you’re going to, Dodds—I mean, Dr. Ackerman,” she corrected herself, remembering they were here at school. “Can you tell me any more? As you might guess, I’m very curious about it.”

A nervous smile twitched at his lips. “Not yet. Maybe later.”

She pouted a moment, then asked him what time he would like to come over. They both decided that the usual time of 7:00 was convenient for both of them.

-

All of a sudden, Lora Lemmon’s life changed from drab and depressing to exciting. She had an agenda. She decided to follow both Billie and Dr. Ackerman as often as she could. After all, she rationalized, she had to protect the reputation of Fairfield University, didn’t she? She even decided that if she had to cut her work hours to do so, she would. Was it a coincidence that her energy returned? She wondered.

Tonight, Wednesday, was her night off. At 5:00 she grabbed a sandwich from home, leaving her mother complaining about how thoughtless Lora was to leave her here alone on the one night she could stay home and keep her company.

With an armful of books, Lora got into the car and drove close to Billie’s apartment, parking where she could see anyone coming or going. Soon, she found out that her intention to study while sleuthing didn’t work out at all.

She couldn’t seem to concentrate on both at the same time—probably because one was so much more interesting than the other.

At 7:45, she saw Billie’s car back out of the driveway. She followed at a safe distance, feeling what she thought must be the excitement a private investigator feels. Maybe she should become one, she mused, a smile on her face.

She was disappointed that Billie’s destination turned out to be her parents’ home. Nevertheless, Lora decided to park up the block and wait for a few minutes. About three minutes to seven, a car drove into the Bliss driveway. Dr. Ackerman got out! Now she knew his car. Her excitement soon fizzled when she realized that it all looked very proper. Now what was she going to do? Still keyed up, she couldn’t face going home so soon. Telling herself that this was just the life of a PI and that something was bound to turn up, she decided to go to a movie.

Billie seated herself on the couch where Sheldon usually sat, so he went for the chair.

“
No, Dodds, sit here,” she patted a spot on the couch beside her. “We both can see the television better from here.”

He felt nervous about sitting next to her. “Uh, do you think that’s appropriate?” he asked, hoping she would agree that it wasn’t.

“
Of course it is. And besides, I trust you to act appropriately at all times.”

“
All right,” he said, sitting down stiffly beside her.

Billie smiled. “Relax, Dodds, I promise I won’t bite.”

He didn’t really know how he could relax, but he sat back and tried anyway.

They heard a knock at the door.

“
Come in,” Billie said.

Matilda appeared in the doorway and smiled. “Hello, Sheldon. How are you?”

“
I’m fine, Matilda, it’s nice to see you.”

“
Since you two are going to watch a movie, I came to see if you would like some popcorn.”

“
Oh, Aunt Tilly, how nice of you. I would like some. Would you, Dodds?”

He noted that Billie’s eyes were as excited as a little child’s. In fact, he found himself looking forward to eating popcorn while watching the movie.

“
Yes, I would like some, Matilda. Thank you.”

Billie turned to him. “Which movie do you want to see,
Jane Eyre
or
It Happened One Night
?”

“
I can’t remember either one very well. You choose.”

“
All right, I choose
It Happened One Night
, starring Clark Gable and Claudette Colbert,” she said jumping up and putting it into the DVD player.

With the control in her hand, she sat down beside him, smiling. “Shall we wait for the popcorn or start?” It turned out to be a moot question, as Matilda appeared at the door carrying a tray of popcorn and two mugs of cold root beer.

“
However did you do that so fast, Aunt Tilly?” Billie asked.

She smiled. “I already had it popped.”

Sheldon chuckled. “I don’t think we could manage without you, Matilda.”

“
Now, don’t try to butter me up, Sheldon,” she said. “There’s enough on the popcorn.” Smiling happily, she placed the tray on the small coffee table in front of them. “Have a good time. I’m glad that you’re watching one of Billie’s favorites instead of one of those others.”

“
Me too, Matilda.”

After her aunt left, Billie curled up on the couch and turned on the television.

Sheldon was intensely aware of Billie’s presence next to him, but as the movie quickly captured his interest, he began to feel at ease. The popcorn and root beer tasted good, bringing nostalgic memories of childhood.

Billie giggled over a scene. She looked over at Sheldon and together they enjoyed the humor of it. The professor had to remind himself that he was here, not just to enjoy it, but to understand the young woman next to him and to understand the subtle essence of that which was so important to her—romance.

The movie was familiar to Sheldon, but it had been so long ago, it was like seeing it for the first time. When the unmarried couple had to stay in a motel room together because of lack of funds, he found himself intrigued with the morality and honor of the leading man, and with the cleverness of his solution to their problem. How refreshing after the other movies he and Bliss had momentarily watched!

As the movie ended, they turned towards each other and Billie sighed, “It was over much too quickly.”

“
I enjoyed it very much, Bliss. Thank you for the invitation.”

She looked at her watch. “It’s too late to watch ‘Jane Eyre’ now,” she said, disappointed, “but maybe another time?”

“
Yes,” he smiled, “another time. But I’m a little confused, Bliss—you mentioned emotions culminating in a kiss. There wasn’t a kiss in this movie.”

“
I know,” she replied in a small, breathy voice, “but it seemed like it. And it certainly didn’t make it any less romantic, did it?”

Sheldon couldn’t help smiling. They sat in silence, engrossed in their own thoughts for several moments; then Sheldon rose.

“
Well, it’s time for me to leave, Bliss. Are you staying here tonight?”

“
I need to go to my apartment. If I start staying overnight, my family will begin asking me to stay another night, and another, until I’d find myself living at home again.”

They walked slowly toward the front door and out onto the front porch.

The warm August evening, lit by a full moon, was filled with the scent of roses.

“
I love summer, Dodds, it in itself is romantic to me. But then,” she added wistfully, “so is fall with its kaleidoscope of colors and the feeling of excitement over the new season, and then the magic of wintery nights, when large snowflakes fall lightly and the night is still and shimmering white.”

“
In other words, all year round you find romance. Don’t let it go, Bliss.

Hang on to it—and to hope.” Curling his forefinger under her chin, he lifted her face to his, and studied it for several moments, his eyes, warm and appreciative.

“
How can romance be dead if it’s alive in you? Good night, Bliss.”

With that he briskly descended the steps and crossed the short distance to his car. He turned and waved, then got in.

Billie watched him drive away. After such a fulfilling evening with him, she felt a little lonely. Her professor was trying so hard to understand her and her needs. But at the moment, it was difficult to think of him as only her professor; for he had become more than that. He had become her friend.

-

Driving home, Sheldon offered congratulations to himself. He had been right. What Bliss needed was a husband!

When he entered his condominium, the palpable emptiness of it surrounded him like a cold whirling eddy, dragging him down into its depths.

In the past, when that feeling came, he simply buried himself in work and making money. But here he was, his fortune made and he was teaching. What could he do to fill his mind and energies now? He was a focused man, used to getting done what needed to be done at the moment, with the ability to totally immerse himself in the issue at hand. His focus now was the project—four human beings, who needed help to achieve their goals. His particular responsibility was one of those four—Bliss.

But it wasn’t the same as making money; he couldn’t shake and move and make things happen as he had in the business world. He was in alien territory.

Hal Ozog’s words came to mind: “You manage your life better than all three of us. But you see, in addition to our professions, we have a spouse, children and like me, grandchildren who are all added to the equation, and they really can’t be
managed
.” Amen! he said to himself.

His mind and energies were focused on Bliss. His desire to help her had intensified to the point of excitement rivaling that which he usually felt when closing a business deal! Now that he was at this fever pitch—what was he to do? In effect, Ozog had said, Billie couldn’t be ‘managed.’ He felt like a fish trying to swim on dry ground!

He found himself staring out the window at the twinkling lights of Claytonville, each set of lights encompassing a family. An emotion came over him that he had, consciously at least, fended off through the years—loneliness.

He shook his head. It must have been the movie, the popcorn, the nostalgia of it all.

Wishing he could talk to his mother, he walked over to the bookcase and browsed through some of her books. His mother, a feminine, gentle woman, with blue eyes and dark hair, was a reader. Many times after school, he found her sitting by the window, a book in her hand. One day in particular came to his mind.

“
Read it out loud to me, Mama,” he remembered saying to her after coming home from school and finding her in the familiar setting. He was nine years old and had been read to by his mother ever since he could remember.

She began reading.

“
That’s a poem about mushy love,” he had exclaimed in disgust. “Never mind, Mom, I’m going out to play.”

He realized for the first time that many of her books were poetry books.

He remembered seeing these in her hand most often. He pulled out an old book of poetry by Lord Byron, went over to his favorite chair, opened the book gingerly, and began reading.