It's Bliss (4 page)

Ackerman’s mind felt muddled again. “Uh . . . uh, take a wild stab at it. What is your problem?”

“
When I tried to explain it to several past boyfriends, amazingly each, unbeknown to the others, came up with the same answer on what he thought my problem was.”

“
Oh? And what did they come up with?”

“
That I was allergic to men.”

Fearing to tread on personal ground, he asked somewhat hesitantly, “Uh . . . is that true?”

“
No, it is not.”

He leaned back in his swivel chair and scrutinized her. “Have you ever thought of seeing a psychiatrist, Miss Bliss?”

“
Oh yes, several times. I finally went to see one and he didn’t understand me.”

Dr. Ackerman nodded. “Somehow I can relate to that.”

“
But,” she continued, “I can tell you what brought me to the point of putting on paper that it was your fault.”

“
Please do,” he said in a condescending tone.

“
It’s your pompous and demeaning attitude toward the class. I didn’t see this attitude last term toward the boys in the 302 class, just the girls. So it must be women you feel this way about.”

Sheldon Ackerman was shocked. “Pompous, demeaning? Why . . .” his voice trailed off, realizing that his impatience over what he perceived as their inept self-management might have been construed as such.

“
Then, Miss Bliss,” he began slowly, his words deliberate, “my so-called pompous and demeaning attitude toward all the young women in the 302 class and the 280 class did cause and is causing you to gain weight. Is that correct?”

“
Yes and no. Well, at least not for the reason you may think. You see, it’s symptomatic.”

He threw up his hands. “I give up, Miss Bliss. I would suggest if you are planning to get married someday, that you figure yourself out first.”

“
I assure you, Dr. Ackerman, I have figured myself out, and that’s why I’m not going to get married.”

He stared at her, still trying to understand. “Well,” he said finally, “that’s, uh, probably for the best.”

Tears sprang to her eyes. He noted that they were beautiful brown eyes.

Instantly he felt contrite. “I’m sorry. What I said, did it—”

“
Oh no, it’s just me,” she said, blinking back the tears and immediately smiling. “Could I ask you a question, Dr. Ackerman?”

His heart softened, he answered, “You may.”

“
Your eyebrows are almost black and your hair is gray. Why is that?”

The 280 business course was a three-credit hour class, meeting Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Wednesday morning, Dr. Ackerman began a two part lecture. The first part would occupy Wednesday and Friday. The subject matter was: “managing yourself versus managing a vocation, or specifically a career in business.” The following week he would carry on the second part of the subject, using the question and discussion method, all this in preparation for the possible ‘project.’ He proceeded with care, not wanting to be perceived by the class as pompous or demeaning. He most certainly did not want Miss Bliss to gain one more pound—if, indeed, he were, in any way possible, the cause the of such an anomaly.

Immediately, Billie Bliss could see the difference in Dr. Ackerman’s attitude and was pleased. Somehow, she thought, trying to explain her actions on Monday must have actually done some good. Chalk one up to ‘ol’ Dodds, she commended silently. Because of this change, she could tell that the class was responding with greater interest to what he had to say.

The subject of the lecture, self-management, was of great interest to Billie.

And, in her mind, it reflected Dr. Ackerman’s own lifestyle. He was a professor who was always organized and well prepared. In fact, she mused, he even managed himself well in the aspect of grooming. His white shirts were always crisp, sporting what looked like designer ties, which, in turn, attractively set off his expensive-looking suits and sport coats.

Today, his finely-fitted, charcoal gray sport coat hung nicely over his broad shoulders, tapering down to gray slacks and well-shined shoes. It was an ensemble which enhanced both his dark brows and thick, slightly wavy, silver hair, which, he had explained to her on Monday, had begun turning prematurely gray when he was twenty-five. He had further informed her that his brows had not yet caught up. After hearing this disclosure, she almost gave in to the urge to satisfy the curiosity of the class, but changed her mind, deciding that to divulge his confidence might not be respectful.

“
Miss Bliss!” the voice of Dr. Ackerman boomed, jerking Billie out of her reverie.

“
Uh, yes, Dr. Ackerman?”

“
I see that you are not taking notes. May I remind you again, I expect all of you to take notes. Other than the texts in the library, which I may ask you to read now and then, there is no text for this class—just my lectures, and you will be severely tested on those. “Do I make myself clear, Miss Bliss?”

“
Yes, Dr. Ackerman. I’m sorry. It’s just that my mind was wandering off on the subject of your lecture.”

“
Oh?” he questioned, skeptical. “Would you mind telling the class what your mind wandered off to since it was, supposedly, on the subject?” He watched her contemplate what to tell him, noting a small ghost of a smile come and go.

“
I was reflecting upon what an excellent example you are of self-management.”

Caught off-guard, he blinked a couple of times, then scrutinized Miss Bliss while the class scrutinized him, waiting for his reaction. Inwardly, he was pleased.

“
Thank you, Miss Bliss. But I assure you, flattery will not get you an A in this class.”

The class erupted with laughter. He waited, his face one of unflinching sternness. When it died down, he said, “Now, may we resume the lecture?”

-

Billie walked quickly toward her small studio apartment just off campus, smiling and thinking of Dr. Ackerman’s class. She soon arrived at the old brick home with its tall maples and lush landscaping front and back. When looking for her new accommodations, she had immediately fallen in love with this old place, and the apartment in the back part of the house. It consisted of one large room—a combination front room, bedroom, and kitchen, and one small bath.

Unlocking the door, she stepped into the neat and cheery room which she had furnished herself. A flowered chintz, pull-out couch doubled for a bed.

A chair, upholstered in leaf green and white stripes, matched the green in the couch. Throw pillows of plain leaf green on each end of the couch tied in both pieces of furniture. To Billie, the room was inviting, attractive, and comfortable.

She had also purchased a small, white desk and bookcase. The pictures and plants she had brought from home added nice touches to the decor. The landlady had carpeted the room in light beige and had provided white miniblinds for the large window.

Her family had been in a state of bewilderment, unable to understand why she would want to move away from home, since they lived only three blocks from the campus. The atmosphere in her parents’ home was pleasant and lovely, but since four of the five members of the family were feeling more and more concern over her unmarried state, it exacerbated her weight problem.

Her mother and father, Aunt Tilly, Grandpa Bliss, and Uncle Henry, all independently, had confronted her with how ludicrous it was to move into an apartment. Each had repeated the same logical arguments for living at home.

Aunt Tilly, her mother’s sister, who had never married, was the most vociferous. “Now, Billie, it would make sense if you moved out because you were getting married. But you don’t really want to be alone, do you? Look at me, so alone that I moved in with your mother and father. Look at Grandpa Bliss and Uncle Henry, both widowers, neither wanted to live alone. It will get awfully lonely . . . unless,” she looked hopeful, “you change your mind and decide you want to get married.”

Billie assured Aunt Tilly and the others that all their arguments certainly did have merit. “But,” she had reminded them, “I’ll be twenty-eight soon. It’s about time I moved out on my own.” Then she promised to visit often and reminded them that they could visit her.

She had moved out just before the spring term and now two and a half weeks into the summer term, her family was finally adjusting to her living alone.

She took off her linen blazer, which was really too warm to wear during the summer, but since it covered up her figure, she wore it anyway.

Suddenly, she realized she hadn’t gone to the cupboard or refrigerator to munch. This was the first day after attending a class of Dr. Ackerman’s that she hadn’t had the munchies.

Humming a song, she stuck a potato in the microwave and began preparing a salad.

After an enjoyable dinner Friday evening, the DeePees were settled in the small lounge of the country club, contentedly sipping their coffee—all except Sheldon. He was so anxious to learn their decisions, he could no longer contain his restlessness.

“
Well?” he asked, looking at each of them in turn.

Hal Ozog smiled at him in a fatherly manner. “You’ve been acting like a kid who can hardly wait to try out his new bike.”

Sheldon smiled, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “To tell the truth, Hal, that’s exactly how I feel, but I want all of you to know that I’ll understand if you feel this project isn’t feasible or if you feel that your lives are too busy to participate. I can get someone else to help me, but as you well know, I have much more confidence in you four.”

Don Newman held a palm outward and grimaced. “Hey, Shel, as I said before, don’t count me in on this. I’m just a friendly bystander, but one who’ll be cheering you on—whatever all of you decide.”

“
Okay, Don. I’ll at least appreciate your support.” His expression turning apprehensive, he looked at the other three. “So—how about the rest of you?”

Robert Bittle smiled. “Well, Shel, we three have conferred with each other by phone this week and the consensus is—we’ll take it on.”

“
Wonderful!” Sheldon exclaimed, beaming from ear to ear.

“
But,” Robert continued, “if any complication arises that concerns any one of us, we’ve agreed to abandon the project.”

“
Oh.” Sheldon’s dark brows furrowed. “That presents a problem. How will I broach this possibility to the participants?”

“
Be frank with them right from the beginning, Shel,” Nettie Newman suggested. “You might inform them that this is only an experiment and that you may have to abandon the project if complications arise and present a problem that would reflect badly upon the university.”

Sheldon considered this, his long fingers tapping together methodically.

He nodded. “I think that’s a wise decision. I suppose complications certainly can come about, considering that we’ll be working with women. They tend to become emotional at times.”

Nettie smiled. “Well, yes, Sheldon, but also, physical complications could arise with any one of them.”

Sheldon, silent a moment, responded. “I’ll have to confer with my benefactor and see if he’ll be willing to remunerate these young women even if we have to abandon the project.”

“
Good,” Robert said. “Now with that out of the way, I would like to read to you what I’ve come up with in the way of a questionnaire for the class in order to choose which four would be good candidates.”

Sheldon Ackerman was more than pleased, he was happy. “Read on, Robert.”

When he was through, Nettie exclaimed, “That’s excellent, Robert. I would add only one question, one that will inform us of their major. I’m sure that some in the class will be there just to better acquainted themselves with the principles of business, but don’t intend to make it their major. What if one or more of the four we select doesn’t want a business career? Will the Dean and your benefactor go along with that?”

Sheldon’s brows rose. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of that. I feel that at least two of the four should be in the field of business. However, I’m sure that the Dean and the benefactor would be amenable to the other two young women succeeding in whatever they choose to go into.”

Hal had two additions and the three of them vetoed Sheldon’s one, suggesting that he didn’t know women very well, which—he conceded was true.

“
My friends,” Sheldon said, “you’ve come through for me with flying colors, as the cliche goes. Thank you.”

After naming the upcoming experiment, “Project Success,” they parted company, each having an assignment. Sheldon was to confer with the Dean and his benefactor. Nettie was to prepare a contract for each participant and later, after visiting with them individually, a uniquely designed nutrition program for each. Hal offered to prepare a medical form that the participants could take to their doctor to fill out after the mandatory physical examination.

Robert was to revise the questionnaire, adding Nettie’s suggestion.

They shook hands and promised to meet again the following Friday night.

-

Sheldon Ackerman loved challenges and Project Success promised to be a satisfying one. He was sure it would help the young women. And it certainly would make teaching the 280 class more interesting. He leaned back in his large, comfortable leather chair, his feet on the ottoman, relaxing and thinking. His condo was decorated to reflect his masculine taste. The furniture and accessories in forest greens, beige, and browns, provided him a comfortable and relaxing atmosphere. His condo was on the top floor of this ten story condominium complex that he had designed and built. No one in the community knew he was the owner and builder—and he intended they remain ignorant of it indefinitely. The benefactor he was to confer with this week was none other than himself.