My Own Mr. Darcy (10 page)

“I’m not that bad. I
promise. It’s just a lot easier to get the kids to do what I want them to if
they’re laughing than if they hate me.”

“I think they just feel
sorry for you,” I said.

“Laughter or pity. Either
one is okay if it gets the job done.”

When it came time to
patrol the halls, I was glad for the break from the loud music but I missed
watching Chad make a fool of himself as he cooled the hormones of the more
amorous students.

Most of the classrooms
were locked and it didn’t take long to check bathrooms and bleachers. We
repeated the route several times and only found one couple in a dark alcove by
the band room.

“So is this the worst date
you’ve ever been on?” Chad asked as we walked down a long, dim hallway.

“Not at all. I could watch
you dance all evening.”

“I’m glad you were
entertained.” Chad looked at his watch. “Our responsibilities are just about
finished. Come with me.” He took my hand and we walked back to the gym.

“Last dance of the night,”
the DJ said as we walked into the gymnasium. “No one should be sitting this one
out.”

“You heard him,” Chad
said. “Let’s dance.”

Chad led me onto the dance
floor. I felt old and conspicuous and wondered if Chad was going to be rhythmically
challenged on slow songs as well. “This is how it’s done,” he said to a few of
the couples around us. He pulled me into his arms in a formal position, one
hand on my back and one hand holding mine out to the side. And his rhythm was
fine. In fact, it was really good. He was an excellent dancer and we moved
comfortably to the music.

“Thanks for coming with
me,” he said into my hair.

“It was fun. Thanks for
inviting me.”

“You must have forgotten
that you invited me,” he said.

“Oh right. Well, I’m glad
I did.”

“Me too.” I could feel
Chad’s breath in my hair. I was keenly aware of his hand on my back. I was glad
we were chaperoning. It helped me resist the urge to snuggle in closer. That would
be a bad move. We had to keep things friendly to set a proper example for
Chad’s students. Besides, I had no business wanting to snuggle in closer. What
was I thinking?

And then, near the end of
the song, he pulled my hand in closer and his steps became smaller. His arm
tightened around me and I was frustrated with how good it felt. I knew I should
want the song to end immediately and yet I dreaded that last note.

Chad didn’t let go until
the last note had faded out completely. We stood there for just a moment after
the music ended. Then he brushed his lips against my temple. I had a little
trouble catching my breath. I wasn’t supposed to let him like me. And I wasn’t
supposed to like the way it felt in his arms. I needed some air and some
perspective.

“Do you have to help clean
up?” I asked. Chad’s hand was still on my back.

“Not technically. My job
is to wait until all the students are gone. Last time I chaperoned, I helped
put away chairs and tables.” His hand was still on my back.

“I can help.”

“Are you sure you don’t
mind? If you’re tired, you can just sit down and wait for me.” His hand was
still on my back.

“I don’t mind at all.
Should I help clean up the refreshments or help you with the chairs?”

“Whichever you want.” His
hand was still on my back.

“I’ll just go help with
the refreshments.”

“I’ll come get you in a
few minutes,” Chad said. He took his hand off my back and moved toward some
chairs.

When the students were all
gone and the gymnasium again looked like a gymnasium, Chad drove me home.

“That might have been the
most fun I’ve ever had at a school dance,” Chad said.

“More fun than with
scavenger hunt girl?” I asked.

“Definitely more fun than
that. I don’t think she actually wanted to go with me that night,” Chad said

“I had fun. I wish I’d
recorded you dancing. I could have made a fortune off that.”

“Thanks for coming.” Chad
hugged me and I wished we were still on the dance floor. It was much easier to
pull away when we were surrounded by dozens of teenage eyes. Here, by
ourselves, I just wanted to burrow into his arms and stay there. I knew I
needed to go inside. Chad held me close with one hand and played with my hair with
the other. I tried to call to mind Matt’s face and when that didn’t work I
thought about Mr. Darcy. Even his face was a little hazy. All I could really
think about was how warm and solid Chad felt and how much I wanted to stay
right where I was.

“I’d better go,” Chad
said. He took a step back and smiled at me, his hand still touching my hair.

“I’ll talk to you soon?” I
said.

“Yeah. Very soon.”

I ADDED A SLICE
of cheese
to my turkey sandwich and put it in a sandwich bag.

“Not going to the book
store for lunch today?” Janessa asked.

“I am but I thought I’d
eat a real sandwich on my way over today. Matt’s killing me with all the
vegetarian food. Yesterday he ordered soup that was more like a peanut and
vegetable paste. And it smelled bad. I couldn’t eat it and I was starving by
the end of the day.”

“Has he ever asked you what
you want to eat?” Janessa asked. I’d been eating lunch at the bookstore for two
weeks now.

“No.”

“Does he realize you’re
not a vegetarian?”

“He’s never asked me so he
probably doesn’t know what I am.” I felt a little twinge of annoyance. Why
hadn’t he asked me? I had just as much right to my meat as he did to his veggie
paste. “I guess we should have this discussion,” I said. “It’s fine if he wants
to eat that way, but I’m getting tired of it.”

I’d had a couple of annoyed
twinges lately. The first had come when Matt was walking me to the front door
after a bland lunch of bean sprout, lettuce and tomato sandwiches. He actually
had the nerve to call it a BLT. That wasn’t disappointing at all. On the front
porch, he leaned against the railing and looked across the street.

“I was thinking you might
as well plan on lunch every day. Unless one of us needs to cancel for work, of
course.”

My initial glee that he
wanted to spend every lunch with me gradually turned to irritation as I walked
the two blocks back to the bank. Was it really such a hassle to have to ask me
to lunch? Was this all about convenience or desire to see me? And speaking of desire
to see me, did Matt ever want to see me somewhere other than the bank or the
bookstore? Why didn’t he ask me on a real date?

Just before ten Matt came
into the bank. “I can’t do lunch today or tomorrow,” he said when he reached my
window.

“Oh, that’s too bad.” I
was glad I had a sandwich in the break room refrigerator. I wanted to know why
he was cancelling but he didn’t offer an explanation. “I guess I’ll see you
Monday?”

“Actually, I was wondering
what you’re doing after work tonight. There’s a movie I’d like to see at Cinema
21.”

“That sounds fun.”

“I don’t know about fun.
It’s a serious movie. But if you’d like to go, I thought we could see it
together.”

“Sure,” I said hoping my
voice didn’t sound as thrilled as I felt inside. I didn’t care if it was a
documentary on quantum physics. Matt had asked me on a real, after-work-hours
date. I was excited and relieved.

“If you can come to the
bookstore after work, we’ll just go from there? We can grab a bowl of soup
somewhere on our way.”

I agreed, hoping he’d take
me to a normal restaurant with real soup like chicken noodle or clam chowder.

I ended up eating a bowl
of vegetable barley soup. It could have used some beef in there but it was far
and away the best thing I’d eaten so far with Matt.

The movie was called “Land
of Indecision” and Matt was right. It was serious. There wasn’t a single smile
in the entire movie. For more than two hours, two twenty-something attorneys
talked. They’d been hired by a poor, old man who was dying of cancer. He’d
found oil on his property and wanted to drill it to relieve his family’s
financial burdens when he died. As the case unfolded, they spent many hours at
the office talking, and the local bar talking, and the old man’s living room
talking, and the car talking. The subject they discussed incessantly was how to
fight an environmental group who was fighting his right to drill.

Two hours and ten minutes
into the movie, the two attorneys had evolved into enlightened men who no
longer felt comfortable helping the old man destroy the beauty of his property
with the blight of drilling equipment. They spent ten minutes telling the
broken-hearted man that the greatest gift he could give his children was his
property, unsullied by the ugliness of development.

By the time the movie
ended, I was depleted of all enthusiasm about this date and realized I’d have
preferred an evening of scrubbing the public restrooms at the Greyhound station
to sitting through such a pompous film.

“What would you like?”
Matt asked after the movie. We were ordering at a coffee shop a few doors from
the theater.

“I’d like some hot cocoa
and one of those pecan sticky buns,” I said.

“Did you know hot cocoa
has three times as many calories as a cup of coffee?” Matt asked.

“Did you know it’s more
than three times as delicious?” I asked.

Matt laughed. It was a
real laugh and I realized it was the first time I’d ever heard it. “You got me
there,” he said. “We’ll take two cups of hot cocoa.”

“You don’t want a sticky
bun?” I asked.

“I try to stay away from
too many refined sugars. But maybe I’ll eat a bite of yours.”

“I suppose I can let you
have a bite.”

“What did you think of the
movie?” Matt asked when we’d found a table.

“I don’t think you want to
know?”

“Of course I do.”

“I thought it was
pretentious and boring.”

“Really?” Matt sounded
surprised.

 “Did you like it?” I
asked.

“It was interesting. What
was pretentious about it?”

“It seems like the
filmmakers had an agenda and like they think they’re much smarter than the rest
of us. They treated the old man like he was a fool. And nothing happened except
talking and talking and more talking.”

“You don’t like movies
that are mostly dialogue?”

“Actually, my favorite movies
are mostly dialogue, but they’re about smart and interesting people talking to
each other instead of pompous people just wanting to hear themselves speak.”

“Give me some examples.”

“I love classics like old
Audrey Hepburn movies and I like period pieces like
Sense and Sensibility
and
Pride and Prejudice
.”

“Ah, romances.” Did he
have to sound so patronizing?

“There’s nothing wrong
with romances.”

Matt held up his hands in
surrender. “I didn’t say there was,” he said, but his mouth was pulling into that
little smirk I was starting to recognize as condescending.

“But you think there is,
don’t you?”

“I just think there are
more important things to think about than whether a man and woman are going to
end up together.”

“I happen to think it’s
one of the most important questions in the world.”

“Do you mean that?” Matt
asked.

“If men and women don’t
end up together, it will mean the end of civilization.”

“Whoa, you really take
your romance seriously.”

I laughed. “I just prefer
a good story about people and relationships. I go to a movie to be entertained,
not lectured.”

“Well, I liked it, but I
can see it might not be for everyone.” Matt took a drink of his hot cocoa.
“This is really good. I’m glad I let you talk me into it.”

“Maybe I need to start
twisting your arm more often.”