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LEANNE
“You’re a Godsend,” I told Mindy.
“Aaron is not a god, and don’t you dare ever let him hear you say that I’m a Godsend. Because he sent me and his ego doesn’t need any help,” Mindy said, laughing.
She’d already arranged for someone to come twice a week and prep meals and clean up and do laundry at my dad’s house, which helped immensely. She’d arranged for transportation to his cardiac rehab three days a week and for his follow up doctor appointments, too. A home health worker came four days a week and stayed while I went to classes and worked at the gym and had time to do homework.
“You’ve transformed my life. I’m starting to feel human again. I really didn’t think it was possible. You’re like a fairy godmother.”
“All I did was put you in touch with community resources you didn’t know about yet. I was glad to do it. Are you sleeping more?” Mindy asked.
“Some. The main thing you did that helped me though, was you told me that—”
“That you’re not a terrible daughter? That you shouldn’t expect to do everything on your own? What if I broke my leg, right now, today? Would you think Kyle was a loser and a terrible husband if he started calling people to take me to physical therapy and babysit the kids while he’s at work and everything? Of course, you wouldn’t. Because you’re only that hard on yourself. Part of it is being a woman in our culture—which, do not ever get my husband started on the patriarchy. Women are socialized to be caregivers above all else, and if it means putting aside our own ambitions or work or basic survival needs, that’s a given.”
“You’re probably right,” I said, “but it’s also because he’s the parent that stayed. My mom left us, and he took care of me himself. He didn’t just up and leave when it was really hard. So I feel really guilty having to ask for help, when he did it all on his own.”
“Did he though? Did he never get help from your aunt or your grandparents when they were alive, or did you never go to a friend’s house overnight or eat fast food three days in a row? Think about it. He wasn’t doing it on his own, you just didn’t notice it because you were a kid. And as for the guilt, just speaking as a parent for a minute, you don’t up and leave your kids. That isn’t a natural response unless there’s something severely wrong. I’m not defending your mom or her choices, because I don’t know the story. Maybe she was callous and selfish—some people are—but not very many. Maybe she had serious problems like an addiction or mental illness. What matters here is that your dad stayed because that’s what parents do, that’s what we want to do is to take care of our children. So you don’t owe him guilt or obligation,” Mindy said.
I just stared at her, in awe of her as usual. Her generosity and kindness and the way she just scooped burdens off my shoulders. It didn’t surprise me that she was friends with Aaron since he had a lot of the same awe-inspiring qualities.
“Thank you,” I said, “for everything you’ve done. You’re amazing. And in some ways, you remind me of Aaron.”
“That’s—maybe a backhanded compliment or maybe a straight-out insult,” she said, mischief in her eyes, “since he’s the smartass of the bunch. He’s grown up a lot in the last couple years though, and he’s a good guy. How are things going with him, anyway?”
“Well, he’s a good professor and I’ve learned a lot from him in the internship at the gym, too,” I said robustly. Mindy smiled in a way that made me think she didn’t believe me.
“I’ve known the man for a few years now, and he’s never called me in to help one of his students before. So I’m pretty sure there’s more to this than him being a good professor.”
“It may look that way from your perspective,” I said carefully, “but that isn’t the case. I happened to be at the gym working when I got the news about my dad. I was very upset, and he drove me to the hospital. That’s how he knows about my family situation, and he was kind enough to check on me after class one day when I looked very tired. So he offered to contact the expert, being you, about getting me some help. I think it may have to do with the university’s big mental health initiative they’ve been hyping this year,” I ventured, “that if the faculty sees someone in distress, they have to offer help.”
“I don’t work for university mental health services,” Mindy said a little flatly. “I work for a women’s shelter. Aaron asked me as a personal favor to him. Because, and I quote, ‘she’s hurting and I can’t stand it.’ So you’ll forgive me if I’m not convinced that this is a hundred percent platonic, concerned citizen offers Good Samaritan aid to struggling student.”
“There’s nothing going on between Aaron and myself outside of my working at the gym and being in his class. I’m sorry if it seems suspicious to you or something,” I said, prickly.
“I’m not trying to make trouble for you. Did he tell you anything about how I met him?”
“No. He said you’re married to his friend.”
“That’s true. But when I met Aaron, I was having a secret affair with my professor.”
“Oh! Did you report it?” I asked.
“No. I married him and had his babies, Leanne. It was Kyle. That’s how we got together. I was in his Women’s Studies class, and he had to mentor me for a fellowship. We spent a lot of time together. I fought against the feelings I had for him, and God knows he did, too. I can’t tell you the number of horrible discussions we had about how we couldn’t see each other because it was wrong and he didn’t want me to be expelled or lose out on job opportunities because of damage to my reputation. He was very protective of me, but every time he tried to stop seeing me, it broke my heart. We also usually ended up naked during those dire conversations,” she gave a small laugh. “All I’m saying is that sometimes you can’t fight fate. We both denied it, that we were involved, that we were hooking up, that we were trying really hard not to be alone together even for meetings in his office because there was a zero percent chance we wouldn’t end up fucking on his desk otherwise—sorry, I’m not trying to offend you.”
“You didn’t. I’m just surprised. I mean, I’m glad everything worked out for you. But that’s not the situation with Aaron and me. Still, I can’t thank you enough for all the help you’ve given me. And you really didn’t have to bring me food,” I said.
“Just something to eat later. Your professor, your boss who is just your boss—that guy—he keeps asking me if you’re eating. Because it’s totally normal for a professor to worry if his student is so upset she can’t eat enough.” She smirked at me, and I couldn’t blame her because that was pretty personal.
When she left, I couldn’t stop thinking about Mindy telling me how she met her husband. It was actually possible then, to have something happen between a professor and his student, and for things to work out well in the end. It was possible to fall in love, to have a secret affair, to have that turn into more. For it to be real and to turn into something that lasts forever.
Maybe Mindy and Kyle were just lucky. It had nothing to do with me. And I didn’t need to go around thinking that off limits things were possible. Nothing had changed. I was his student. My dad was recovering. I’d finish my degree, my dad would get well. I’d finish my internship and never see Aaron again. There. It would all work out, I told myself. Never mind the knot of tears squeezing my throat at the mere thought of saying goodbye to him.
CHAPTER22
AARON
Seeing her at the gym, in my class, being herself again was all I had wanted. She wasn’t pale and exhausted looking any longer. She hadn’t lost any more weight. Leanne was coming back to herself, and her energy lit up the room again.
