to a teacher I work with at my school. I’ve never liked her, and she’s kind of a bitch. She’s very full of herself, and she’s always working some guy. She’s been talking a lot lately about some teacher she’s having an affair with. He works at another school. She sees him every weekend, but apparently only one night, and she’s pissed about it. They see each other one night and one afternoon, and she thinks he’s cheating on her, although he says he isn’t. Other than that, she thinks he’s a great guy, and she says he’s crazy about her. They’re planning to spend Thanksgiving together instead of going to their families, and he told her he would go see them on Saturday after Thanksgiving for the weekend. And then, I don’t know, but it rang a bell for me. I asked her what this guy’s last name is, and where he teaches. I never bothered to ask her before, because I really don’t give a damn. She says his name is Jack Bailey, and he teaches chem at Madison.” John turned sad eyes toward Victoria, and she looked like she was going to faint or burst into tears. “It sounds like your guy is riding two horses, or trying to. I wanted to say something before you got in any deeper. It sounds like he’s splitting every weekend, and now Thanksgiving, between the two of you, which is a shit thing to do, if he hasn’t told you that’s what he’s doing and you haven’t agreed to it. And honestly, this girl is really a bitch. She’s just not a decent person. I don’t know what he’s doing with her, when he has you.” It made both John and Harlan feel sick, for her, and now she looked it too. She started to cry as they sat at the kitchen table, and Harlan handed her a tissue. They felt terrible telling her but thought that she should know what she was dealing with, and whom.
“What am I going to do?” she asked them through her tears.
“I think you have to talk to him about it,” John said simply. “You have a right to know what he’s doing. He’s seeing a lot of you. And apparently of her too, every weekend. And she says she’s been sleeping with him for two months.” He didn’t add salt to the wound by telling Victoria that the other woman claimed he was great in bed. She didn’t need to hear that too, particularly since she hadn’t slept with him yet herself, but they all knew that she would soon. She had kind of guessed that it would happen naturally over Thanksgiving, and with all her roommates away, she’d been planning to invite him to stay at the apartment, when they got back from their holiday with their families. Although she knew now that he’d been planning to spend it with the other woman, and lying to her about where he was spending the weekend. He was lucky it was a big city and he hadn’t run into either of them when he was with the other. But it was a small world anyway, and by sheer coincidence he was seeing a woman who worked with one of her best friends. The possibility of that happening was slim, but it had happened. Providence had intervened.
“What do I say to him? Do you think it’s true?” She was hoping it wasn’t, but John was honest with her again, however painful.
“Yes, I do. She’s a slut, but there’s no reason for her to lie or make this up. I think he’s the one who’s not being honest. And it’s a rotten thing to do to you, even if you’re not sleeping with him yet. You’ve been dating him for almost as long as she has. It sounds like he’s playing you both.” Victoria felt sick as she listened, and sat frozen in her seat. She felt cold suddenly, and the boys saw her shiver.
“Do you think he’ll tell me the truth now?” she asked miserably.
“Probably. He’s been pretty much caught red-handed. It would be interesting to hear what he does say, and how he explains it. This will be a tough one to justify or clean up.”
“I never asked him if he was seeing someone else,” Victoria said honestly. “I didn’t think I had to. I assumed he wasn’t.”
“It’s a good question to ask,” Harlan added sadly. “Some people don’t ’fess up unless you ask. But by this point, seeing each other every weekend and building a relationship, he should have told you whether you asked or not.” She nodded and thanked John for the information, although she hated hearing it, and he looked miserable for having told her. But they all knew it was right. She had to know. She sat with them in the kitchen for a long time, mulling it over, rehashing what they knew, and was confused, hurt, and angry about it. She managed to avoid Jack at school all the next day. She didn’t feel ready to confront him. And that night he called her.
“Where were you today? I looked for you all over and couldn’t find you,” he said, sounding as affectionate as ever. It was Thursday, and they were supposed to have dinner together the next day. She tried to keep her voice normal, but it was hard. She didn’t want to confront him about what she’d heard until they were face to face. This was not a conversation she wanted to have with him over the phone. She had felt sick about it all day, and hadn’t slept the night before. It was hard to believe that someone she cared about so much and had been so open with, and trusted so much, had been so dishonest with her. It had been a heart-wrenching revelation. All her fears came back to her that she wasn’t good enough to be loved. She hoped he had some reasonable explanation for it. But she couldn’t imagine one. She was willing to listen to what he had to say, and wanted to hear it, but the evidence John had presented to her was pretty damning.
She told Jack she had been busy all that day, meeting with students and their parents about the college process, and she invited him to come to the apartment for a drink before dinner the following night. He said it sounded like a great idea, and he was as warm as ever. She had never pressed him about spending both nights of the weekend together, and never wanted to be pushy, but she decided to try it now and see what he would say in response.
“Maybe we can do something Saturday night too. There are some really great new movies out,” she said innocently.
“Maybe we can do that Sunday afternoon,” he said with a tone of regret. “I have to correct exams all day Saturday and Saturday night. I’m way behind on it now.” There was her answer. She could have Friday night and Sunday afternoon, but not Saturday or Saturday night. And with a sinking heart and a knot in her stomach the size of her head, she knew that what John had told her was true. She hadn’t doubted it, but hoped he was wrong somehow. Apparently, he wasn’t.
She was distracted and nervous at school all day Friday and saw Jack in the teachers’ lounge briefly at lunchtime. She nearly ran out the door, and told him she was late for a student meeting. And he arrived at her apartment right on time on Friday night. He looked as appealing and as relaxed as ever. There was a quality about him that made him look honest and sincere. He exuded integrity in a way that suggested that he was a person you could trust. And she had, wholeheartedly. Apparently, he was not what he appeared. It was a bitter pill for her to swallow. They were alone in the apartment. Everyone was out on Friday night. And Harlan and John knew what she’d be doing. She had told them. They were at John’s place to give her space but had told her they were available if she needed them.
She had no idea how to start the conversation as she poured him a glass of wine with trembling hands. She had worn slacks and an old sweater. Suddenly she didn’t feel beautiful, as she often did when she was with him. She felt ugly, and unloved, and betrayed now. It was a terrible feeling. She hadn’t bothered to wash her hair or wear makeup. The notion of competing with the other woman was foreign to her. Her spirit and her confidence in herself had folded like a house of cards. He was proving her father right, she wasn’t worthy of being loved. Someone else was.
Jack was looking at her carefully as he held his glass of wine. He could see that she was upset, and had no idea what it was about.
“Something wrong?” he asked innocently.
Her hand was shaking as she set down her glass, and her stomach did a roll. “Maybe,” she said softly and raised her eyes to his. “You tell me. I never mentioned it before. Harlan’s boyfriend John works at the Aguillera School in the Bronx. Apparently a friend of yours does too. I guess you know who she is better than I do. She says she’s been having an affair with you for two months, and she sees you every weekend. I guess that makes me pretty stupid, and you dishonest, or something like that. So what’s the deal, Jack? What’s the story?” She looked him dead in the eye, and he stared at her for a minute, set down his glass, and walked across the room to look out the window, and then he turned toward her again, and she could see that he was furious. He had been caught.
“You have no right to snoop around about me,” he started on the offensive, but it got him nowhere. She didn’t buy it.
“I didn’t. It fell into my lap, and I guess I’m lucky John told me. She’s been bragging about you. It’s a small world, Jack, even in a city the size of New York. How long were you planning to do double duty, and why didn’t you tell me about it?”
“You never asked me. I never lied to you,” he said angrily. “I never told you we were exclusive. If you wanted to know that, you should have asked me.”
“You don’t think you should have volunteered that by now? We’ve been seeing each other every weekend for almost two months. Apparently the same amount of time you’ve been involved with her. What does she think is
