Ben had never thought about it, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to think of his parents in that way.
When he pulled out a small notebook to make notes, she asked, “Can we take a break, Benjamin? My brain needs a few minutes off.” She lowered her fingers atop his hand that held the pencil. “I’m enjoying just talking to you. It’s nice to have a conversation with someone my age.”
Touch, he thought as he stared at her hand over his, one of the ways couples show interest. “We’re not the same age. I’m forty-two.”
“Then think of me as the older woman.” She winked at him.
“Of course.” He pulled his hand away slowly, having no idea what she was getting at.
They ate in silence for a while, then she smiled. “This research reminds me of the first time I fell in love. I was fifteen and he was a senior in high school, a star basketball player.”
Benjamin just kept eating. He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear this, but it was hard not to listen when they were the only two in the place. The kid who’d served them had disappeared in the back.
“I went to every basketball game and never watched anyone but him. Turned out he didn’t even know I was there.”
He took a deep breath and decided to make an effort. After all, they were working together on a project. “At least you shared a love for basketball.”
She shook her head. “Not really.” Then she leaned forward and whispered, “I put my panties in his locker with my number written on them, but he never called.”
“Oh.” Benjamin would have said more, but he was choking on his ham sandwich.
To his horror, she stood and started beating him on the back. This time her touch was definitely not a sign of affection.
When he turned to tell her to stop, his face bumped into her rather large left breast. His only escape was to go back to coughing. She ran for water, and he tried to calm down.
Maybe she hadn’t noticed their intimate contact.
But he had noticed. Soft, yet nicely firm and at least twice the size he remembered it being. Yes, he remembered . . .
Without warning, the past he’d pushed to the back of his mind came back, avalanching down every nerve, every sense.
He remembered her. The memory he’d tried to forget about a girl people called “Red” almost twenty years ago. They’d met in January and traveled with a group of mutual friends the week before spring semester started. Most were first-year grad students looking to relax and have fun before they started back into endless circles of study, research, and lectures.
One cold January week to relax before the work began.
He’d pushed it so far back in his mind that he seldom thought about those foolhardy days. There were more important goals, things he had to do, but for one moment in time, he’d let them slide.
When he’d met Virginia Clark this past September, he’d thought she looked familiar. Only she had a different last name than the girl she reminded him of. Different first name as well. Benjamin passed the feeling off by commenting that they might have met at the university years ago or maybe simply been in a class together. It made sense; they were both science majors.
She’d agreed.
Now, in the silent coffee shop, he knew it had been far more than a class they’d shared. He might have been a bit drunk, but he’d seen her, all of her. He’d held her closer than he’d ever held anyone.
When she returned from the coffee shop counter and handed him the water, he thanked her and turned away. Pushing away the memories, Ben stood and said he had to leave.
They parted with a “See you Monday” goodbye.
An hour later he was working on a tractor in his dad’s barn. Slowly, he let the memories drift back.
His father had been angry that January that Ben hadn’t stopped with one degree. He wanted his son home. They’d argued over the Christmas holiday, and Benjamin returned to the university early. For once in his life Benjamin wasn’t sure of himself. The workload had been far more than he’d anticipated the first semester at UT. He’d decided to move off campus with new roommates for his second semester.
But the week before classes started, there were parties, and Benjamin jumped in. Red had been his first lover, though neither talked of it.
When he’d come home for spring break two months later, he’d worked at the farm and somehow found his footing once more. His dad had talked to him about how proud he was of his only child. When Benjamin went back to school after that spring break, he went back with purpose. He pushed away the wild time he’d had, as if it never happened.
A year later another chemistry student, Marti Ranehart, walked into his life. She was like him, shy, studious. Their dates were to the library and to lectures. He’d thought they were just friends until one night she asked if he’d sleep over. The encounter was awkward for them both; almost like making love was a homework assignment they had to get through.
Throughout the semester, she’d ask him now and then to sleep over, and he thought they were improving a bit each time. Their lovemaking reminded him of two people dancing together while each listening to different music.
He thought they had moved into a relationship, maybe one that would eventually lead to marriage. But it turned out she just wanted to sleep with him every Wednesday. Sex relaxed her, she claimed. He remembered they’d had sex every night during finals, and then she’d politely said goodbye. She was going to Mexico for the summer to study and he was going back to the farm. She didn’t come back to school in the fall, and in truth, Ben barely missed her. In his memory he called her Marti Wednesday.
He found out online that she’d stayed on at the university in Mexico, but he didn’t try to contact her. What had started had never taken root. Now, analyzing their relationship, he couldn’t remember one thing that had truly attracted him to her.
Strange, he’d slept with Red one long weekend, and the memory of her filled his mind far more than the semester he’d been with Marti.
Benjamin stopped working on the tractor engine, closed his eyes, and tried to remember what Red had looked like. Chatty, funny, loving, bouncy, and short.
Marti had been tall, long brown hair, thin. He couldn’t remember the color of her eyes or how it felt to make love to her. It had almost felt more like a lab experiment than passion. But with Red it had been natural, and the hours with her were waiting in the shadows of his mind, ready to be pulled out and relived now and then.
When they’d had sex, Marti hadn’t liked him to touch her breasts. They’d been friends, both absorbed in their studies. Dating was more of a convenience now and then. Go out for a pizza. Meet friends for drinks. Sleep together. Sex was just what they did, but the desire never happened for Benjamin, and he had a feeling it was the same with Marti. Maybe she found passion with some guy in Mexico.
Thinking back, he realized he hadn’t touched a woman’s breasts in years. There had been other dates through college, but his studies came first. Once he’d accepted the teaching position, he’d thought it improper to date his students, and no one else seemed to be around.
So he settled in Clifton near his home and rarely thought of the past or the future. The wild, loving relationship he’d had with the girl called Red could not happen again. It made sense to him that Jenny had obviously forgotten it all. For her it had probably been just one of many weekends.