from Story One, "The Office Manager"
(pp.39-44)
Monica shared with Kellie a fact that was long a source of agitation for her. She always felt that her intellectual growth had been impeded somehow during her childhood. Though difficult for her to explain, the feeling was that her po-tential, her blossoming acumen, had been sup-pressed at critical junctures of her life. But even if it were true, she admitted, she had no inci-dents in memory upon which to hang her suspi-cions. With initial embarrassment she confided a related belief: It was that, based on the pat-tern of her associations as far back as she could remember, she must have a need to as-sociate with supposed intellectuals. From there she revealed her secret romance with a college professor, a man twenty years her senior.
“Whoa,” Kellie uttered leaning in, excitedly enthralled, “is he…he’s not…mmmaaar--?”
“No, he’s div…well, almost divorced…and very, very, very separated.”
“ ‘Very, very, very’…where’s his wife, on the moon?” The latter educed Monica’s laughter and Kellie continued. “Just kidding…I think I know what you mean. So, I assume the rela-tionship is being kept in the shadows to pre-serve his image at the college?”
“Yes, sort of, kind of. …Sooo…well, what do you think about the age difference? You think I should be more concerned about it?”
“Now, that’s a tough one for me to give an o-pinion on, given that my ‘ex’ has close to twen-ty years on me. I don’t know that age played any significant role in our…you know, coming apart.”
“So what did happen between you,” asked Monica with concern, “was it some major thing like an affair…or just a gradual process of things going south?”
“Well, it was both actually, minus the affair. Let’s see if I can put it in a nutshell. Geoffrey Grovensteen has always been his parents’ golden boy. You know… ‘the sun rises and sets’ thing. So, he’s born into a family of doc-tors and pharmacists and practitioners in this and that medical field, and they’re all highly successful and well to do. But as it turns out, Geoff doesn’t have his gifts manifest in academ-ic prowess, in accord with the family legacy. No, his genius is much more heavily weighted in his people skills.
“So instead,” Kellie continued, “of following di-rectly in the footsteps of his father and grand-father and slew of aunts and uncles, that is, completing medical school, he just decided one fine day to detour from that path. The elder Grovensteens’ only son turned in his medical textbooks to pursue a career that would at once allow use of his craftiness of mind and his high-ly personable style.”
“What…did he become some kind of PR man?”
“Uh…yes, sort of. He worked his way into the sales department of a major pharmaceutical company. See the connection? A family of medical practitioners…and a ‘mole’ in the med-ical supply industry? Well, in short, he did quite well…by no means a disgrace to the family.”
“Okay. So he spent so much time seizing lu-crative contracts for his company that he neg-lected his home,” Monica asked.
“Well, no. He put in a lot of hours, but that wasn’t one of the two conditions that I identify as dooming our marriage. First, Geoffrey is ex-tremely competitive…one who believes he can outthink and outsmart anyone on a good day.”
“Uh, oh, don’t tell me he imagined himself to be on your level.”
“Of course not…he thought he was way smarter. So after some point it became a mat-ter of him appearing always to want to show his superiority of mind. When I turned out to be ‘right’ in a dispute, it seemed to shake him to the core. I got to the point where I would just avoid situations of the sort. It was really bi-zarre—he was so arrogantly confident and at the same time so fragile.”
“Humph,” sounded Monica, trying to imagine undergoing such a marital ordeal. “What was the other thing that put the marriage in troubles?”
“The tie-clip,” breathed Kellie in a sigh.
“The what?”
“The diamond-studded tie-clip. A two-thou-sand dollar gift from Mother Grovensteen, de-signed to be the lucky piece that would put Geoff over the top in turning a deal to benefit his company. It was part of a wedding gift set, given way back in…’91 or so, for Geoff and his first wife, Andrea. So, the legend is, he was highly successful in most business meetings when he wore it. I’ve already told you about his first wife’s heart condition and her passing six years later…in ’97 and how Geoff and I met and mar-ried in 2002.”
“Um-hm. And you two adopted little Conner, given Geoffrey’s diagnosed sterility.”
“Yep. And as I said before, we had some sep-arations in the year following the adoption. But
what I didn’t tell you was that the tie-clip caus-ed the first separation—as well as ended the last. See, one of the chores I took on solely in Geoff’s behalf was taking the tie-clip to be cleaned on occasion by the jeweler’s shop where it was bought. It was quick and inexpen-sive. Well, the darned thing turned up missing one day right after Geoff gave it to me to take for cleaning. He actually accused me of ‘losing’ it on purpose—said he suspected that I was re-sentful of his mother’s, kind of, doting on him and wanted to get back. Can you believe that?”
“What a jerk.”
“So, that issue just kind of exploded all out of proportion and mushroomed into a major fight. And I just had had enough…and…I just let go. We both pulled out all the stops that night in our arguing.” Kellie was seeing the scene in her mind, her eyes starting to moisten. “Conner was asleep in his room. We would never have fought like that in his presence.”
“So, then you separated, which was the first time…and he left?"
“Yes, he left and eventually got a small apart-ment to live out of…but it was like ‘pseudo’ sep-aration, since he was free to come back when wanted. I knew he really wanted to be home so I didn’t mind the back and forth. You know, I thought about it a lot and I think Geoff really just couldn’t adjust well to the difference between his first wife and me. My reality is…unsettling to some people.”
“Your reality?”
“Well, most people interpret the world in terms of what makes them feel good or comfort-able.” Monica’s expression conveyed that she did not at all comprehend Kellie’s statement. “But you know, that subject is a big leap away from our present topic, so I’d like to graciously leave it hanging, if I may. I can…if you’re inter-ested… talk more about that later. Right now, though, I just can’t.”
“Oh, you must by all means, as soon as you are ready.” Monica was adamant.
“You know, I feel that I’ve been going on and on about me. Let’s, sort of, switch over to ‘Mon-ica’s world’. How did you and the college pro-fessor make the transition from the classroom to evening dinner dates? I just realized, you haven’t told me his name.”
“No, wait. You never got to how the necktie-clip brought on the final separation and the de-cision to end the marriage.”
“Well, now, that’s kind of a lengthy story, you know? I’d really rather save it for another get-to-gether. Going over those last…events are start-ing to get me down. But, so as not to just leave you hanging, I will tell you that the last night Geoff and I were together in our home, his home now, it ended with us both going to jail. We were both released, though, the next day.”
“What?! Oh, my God!”
“Calm down. There was no violence or any-thing. I promise to tell you the whole convoluted set of events, tie-pin and all, the next time we talk. Right now, I’m just not up for it. You know …bad memories and all.”
Monica spoke in mild exasperation, “God, Kellie…you sure know how to…well I under-stand. Okay, okay, okay, okay,” she iterated in rapid succession, gathering her thoughts for the discourse requested a half minute earlier. As a clarification, Monica asked, “I did make it clear, didn’t I, that Stuart…Dr. Stuart Burgess…was my fundamentals of physics and chemistry teacher, in my first program of study, right? …You know, business management? He’s not associated with hotel management, which is where I am now…so it’s not like there’s a stu-dent-professor connection.”
“Oh, okay, that does make matters less…controversial.”
“So, it was a plain…kind of…situation. When I first visited his office at the college, I could tell he was taken with me. And I thought he was…you know, handsome and mature and…distin-guished.”
“Yes, I’m familiar with the type. So you had this mutual attraction, each charmed with the
other. And the next thing you know he finds a well-timed opportunity to ask when you might be available for dinner or something along those lines, right?”
“Yes, that kind of sums it up. Um, he also told me about these, kind of, social-slash-pro-fessional meetings he attends with six other professors at the college, at a reserved section of the college lounge.”
“Oh, Vorhease is one of those colleges that have their own lounge. Nice.”
“Um-hm. So, it’s like they do this about every three weeks or so. They sit around a big table and debate issues over their favorite cocktails. And often they invite people they know to attend to add to the discussions—you know, if it’s someone who can contribute to the ‘intellectual atmosphere,’ or sometimes just someone who enjoys being a spectator. And that’s how I came to be invited…as an observer at the dis-cussion table. Of course, anyone can take one of the tables situated around nearby.”
“Sounds interesting. What are the other pro-fessors’ areas of expertise?”
“Oh, they have a philosophy guy, a Western lit guy …who else, oh, and two history people—one a woman who just recently joined—and Dr. Karen Metcalf, who teaches biology.” Suddenly an inspiring thought came to Monica. “Oh, Kel-lie! You know what--?”
“I know what you’re thinking, Monica… I’m not really sure …”
“Oh, Kellie, please give it some thought. I know you’d enjoy it. I’ll bet you could even teach them something, sitting at the big table. See, look, it’s always on a Friday evening, starting around five-thirty or six, so that makes it easy to plan around, you know?”
“Well, what about an invitation? Why would they want me there, I mean at their table? They don’t know me.”
“I’ll tell Stuart that I have a friend.”
“Okay, we’ll see. But Monica…don’t give him or any of them any of your impressions of me beforehand…I mean, I’m honored that you think I’m such…an intellectual, but I have no intention of entering those people’s debates or discus-sions. If I go, I’ll go simply as someone honored to be introduced as your friend.”
“Fair enough, girl friend, fair enough!” The e-lation she felt was clear in Monica’s voice. Of coffee complexion and youthful, unblemished skin, she was a very pretty young woman. When joy radiated her face and eyes, her ap-pearance was stunning. Incisively appraising her new friend, Kellie was formulating the rudi-ments of a theory that might address the issue Monica spoke of earlier, concerning her self-concept.
Sitting once again at her work station the following Monday morning, Kellie thought briefly about the evening planned for the coming Wednesday. She wondered to what extent she could trust Meagan’s report concerning her date’s good looks.