Christmas with my Professor

When I left class on that Thursday I went straight to the toilets as I was unable to hold in my tears, I can’t begin to imagine what Tom must have thought and on top of that I’ve been outed in class, I made it worse by storming out – feeding to their curiosity, perhaps this gesture confirms the opinions that they have formed.

It has been 2 weeks since I stayed away from class, I have been keeping up with my set readings and last year’s ‘Year 2 online lectures’ (which lines up with the topics) but did not attend Uni at all. Emily tried calling me a couple of times and messaged me apologising about speaking at all and making suggestions, but I ignored them.

*

Friday 21st. It is now 6:10pm and I’m lying on my bed listening to music, I have caught a cold and feel stuffy and tired. My eyes are closed trancing away from reality and then I hear my music dim followed by a sharp ping in my air pods. It’s a message from Tom, the first since the new academic year: ‘Hey Jay, I’m parked up outside, come out we should talk. T’

Panic enters, I am not prepared for this and I have no idea what to say, what he might say! I grab a hoodie and check myself in the mirror before I head out. Outside it is 11°C and a little foggy, I can see Tom parked up. I get to his car and he unlocks it, as I get in, I do not look at him and keep my head down.

“Are you cold, do you want me to put the heating on?” He asks as he does so anyways.

“I’m fine…” I say sheepishly.

Silence feels the car space, neither of us not knowing where to start or what to say.

“Jay, I’m concerned about your attendance…” He says, “You have missed two weeks-worth of sessions and I’m worried this might impact your academics this year.”

“Oh please, like you care!”

“Excuse me?” He says in a serious tone.

“You don’t care. We spent thousands of pounds last year and fro what? The university have been on strike during one of the most crucial parts of last year, our lectures were all online and some still are, whereas other universities have reopened lectures since last October and despite all that I managed to do really well in my first year, granted I can’t predict the future but I’m pretty sure I will be just fine learning as I sit at home in front of my computer screen like a zombie!!

“Yes, that might be, but you must note most of these decisions are made by management and not us, despite all this I am still your tutor and care for you and wish you attend your seminars.” He says plainly.

I Ignore Tom, and don’t respond.

Tom now inhales sharply and bashes the steering wheel with his right fist. It makes me jump.

“I DON’T KNOW WHY YOU ARE ANGRY WITH ME RIGHT NOW WHEN IT SHOULD BE ME ANGRY WITH YOU!”

“WHY?” I yell

“BECAUSE…. Because of what I heard…” He now says in calm and quieter tone.

I now look over at Tom into his eyes. “Say’s the married man.”

“That’s not fair, you are aware of my situation and I am married, it is not the same…”

“How is it not the same, you are with someone else – what’s so wrong with me seeing other people?”

Tom tries to speak

“You know what Tom – no! I have spent the past two weeks feeling guilty about all this, I regret ever sleeping with Hugh and I have been crying myself thinking What Is Tom thinking – but I don’t deserve this, I should have no reason to feel this way, there is nothing wrong with what I have done – we aren’t exclusive! You enjoy being with me despite being married and I don’t say anything – so tell me what is wrong about what I did, go on tell me!”

“y…you’re right, there is nothing wrong with what you did.” He says quietly

“But it did make me sad and I can’t help feeling this way…” he adds.

“And how do you think it makes me feel?” I say hoarsely as I look over at him with teary eyes.

Tom places his thumb against the corner of my eyes and wipes my tears away. “you’re right, I’m sorry.” He whispers.

I’m not sure if Tom realises that I am referring to watching his marriage as I sit on the side-line or if he thinks I referred to the incident with Hugh, but I do not say anything. He starts up the car and starts driving out of my area, we both continue to sit in silence. My head begins to feel dizzy from the car journey, which is probably additional symptoms to my cold.

“Where are we going? I ask.

“My place. My wife is not home, she’s away.”

“I don’t have anything with me, I left my charger.”

“Use mine. I’ll provide you with a towel, new toothbrush and spare clothes.”

I text my brother: ‘I’m at a friend’s house and might spend the night, can you let mum and dad know if they ask. Thanks.’

We get to Tom’s place and he leads me into the Kitchen, I follow him lazily, feeling slightly dizzy after getting out from the car. “Take a seat.” He points to his stalls around his kitchen Island, I sit down and watch him take out cream, fresh gnocchi, a tomato and tomato paste out of the fridge, he whips out a pan and places it onto the hob. I continue to watch as he finely chops garlic like a pro followed by the tomato. As he begins cooking, the warmth hits my face but I struggle to smell his recipe as I still have a blocked nose. When Tom is done, he plates up a plate, shreds mozzarella upon it and places it in front of me with a fork. “Eat”

“You’re not eating with me?” I say, slightly saddened to be eating alone.

“I had something to eat before I left campus, now eat.”

I begin to eat slowly as Tom begins to wash up, after three bites I begin to stir the gnocchi around with my fork.

“Why aren’t you eating?” Tom says.

“I can’t.”

“You have to, I think you have a fever coming on, I felt your cheek earlier in the car and they felt hot.”

Tom wipes his hand on a dish cloth and comes around next to me, he places the back of his hand against my left cheek, forehead and right cheek. “Yes, you have a fever. Come on, you need to eat and take some medication.” He says.

He sits down next to me on the stall on my right facing my way and grabs my fork, he digs into two pieces of gnocchi and aims at my mouth, I open and eat. He does this again; I look over at Tom and smile. “I’m not a baby you know.” I say as I chew.

“Well, maybe if you would eat rather than play with your food, I wouldn’t have to treat you like one, will I?” He teases and laughs.

I let Tom continue feeding me as I enjoy the care I am receiving from him, he teases me with the fork and mis-directs where it will go, plopping sauce on my nose instead. I jokingly get annoyed as he laughs.

After dinner Tom gives me two Ibuprofens. “Take these, it will help and finish this glass of water, when you are done come upstairs.”

I follow his instructions as he leaves. I take a sip of water at a time, spending five minutes consuming the large glass. As I get up and make my way to the kitchen door, I feel dizzy again, I hold onto the walls as I force myself across the hallway. “Tom” I whisper, unable to raise my voice, I get to the bottom stairs and take a seat, laying my head across the steps above me. I hear Tom thud down the stairs, “Jay?” He says.

Tom comes down and uses his left arm to support my head and scoops up under my legs, he carries me up the stairs. “I felt dizzy.” I explain to him, “Shhh Shhh” He says.

Tom takes me into what looks like a guest room and places me onto a small double bed in a seated position, he pulls my hoodie off and I am now in my t-shirt and removes my trousers, he encourages me to lay down and as I do, he brings out some VapoRub and rubs it across my chest.

“Thanks Doctor” I say cheekily.

“I’m not that kind of Doctor...” he laughs.

He places the duvet on me and tucks me in. Tom kisses me on the forehead “Get some rest okay.” He says as he turns the light off and leaves the room.

I wake up in the middle of the night, feeling clammy and slightly confused. As I regain consciousness and recognise where I am, I can hear Toms breathing, he is sleeping beside me in a seated position with his head and back against the headboard. I slowly sit up and look across at him admiring his face and shallow breathing. I notice a bottle of water on my nightstand and take a few large gulps from it. Tom wakes up hearing me drink.

“Hey! How are you feeling.” He says in a slow and low tone, trying to keep his eyes open.

“Better, thanks.”

He feels my head once more. “Your fever has gone down slightly. There are some Ibuprofens on the nightstand, take two more, it’s been five hours since you had it last.” Again, I do as he says.

I lay back down, as I feel I can get some more sleep.

“Tom, you should go and get some sleep.” I say. Tom slides down into the duvet and adjusts himself next to me.

“Tom, honestly, I don’t think that’s wise, you will catch this.”

“Too late.” He says, he leans up to me and pecks me a kiss on my lips.

“Tom, why would you do that, you have to work next week…”

“Sshh shh shh, come on – its bed time” he whispers. Tom rolls me softly to my right side and wraps his arms around me as he spoons me to sleep. I enjoy being wrapped up in his arms, soft, warm and safe.

**

“Yoohoo, Tom honey, you home?” We both hear followed by the shutting of the front door.

Tom panics and jumps out of the bed and slowly leaves the room, I hear him run down the stairs. My heart is beating fast now realising Tom’s wife is home, and im now worried about what is going to happen. I stay still trying to hear the situation downstairs and assess what I should do, I look across the other bed stand and see that it is 9:48am. Time passes slowly and I can hear the sounds of pots, whisking and crockery coming from the kitchen, it’s been about twenty minutes. What am I still doing here I think to myself, as I get up, I hear someone come upstairs, I lay flat inside the duvet.

The door opens. “Jay…Jay”

“What’s happening?”

Tom whispered - “My wife came home a day early; don’t worry I spoke to her. I told her that you were not well yesterday and left campus late, as I drove pass, I noticed you were very weak and dizzy and offered you a ride home, but you were tired and out of it and did not answer my questions properly, so instead I brought you here, offered you our guest room and took care of you – food, liquids and meds. Stick to that and we will be fine. She’s making breakfast and asked me to call you down.”

“TOM! I can’t!”

“You have to, I know this is not ideal, but you have to go along with this Jay. I’m sorry, I know its awkward – but she is a nice person deep down.”

I sigh.

“Get dressed and come down when you are ready okay?” - Tom now leaves.

I get ready and awkwardly make my way downstairs slowly, I contemplate grabbing my shoes and running out. But I decide against it and turn myself left and down the hall at the bottom of the stairs, I get closer to the kitchen door and stand there. Tom’s wife looks up at me.

“Jay, honey – it’s nice to meet you, how are you feeling?” she says sweetly.

“Much better thank you, Dr *********.” (Remembering she’s a former professor)

“Come in, come in – take a seat.” she points at the dining table, “and please call me Wilma”

Tom’s wife is 5ft 8, she has dark long straight hair, a beautiful almond complexion that glows, she has a bright wonderful smile and big eyes (I’m crying as I type this). Tom told me last year that she is of Caribbean descent. She is wearing a royal blue fitting dress that emphasized her small waist – everything about her is beautiful, even her soothing voice. I watch as Tom helps her carry things over to the table, I offer to help but I am told to sit. The both now join me and I sit there awkwardly.

“Jay help yourself, eat what you feel like eating, and please don’t be shy.” She says.

I laugh and look down at the floor. “I’m so embarrassed…”

“Whyyy.” she asks.

“I feel embarrassed because of this situation, you both have gone out of your way to look after me and I really should not impose like this…” I say now getting a little teary

“Jay...” Tom says

“Nonsense!” Wilma bellows. “My husband did what was right and I would have done the same thing, even though I keep saying that his goodwill and gestures might make his students feel uneasy, he still insists on being a good Samaritan.” She says as she smiles, placing her hand upon Toms. “And you should not feel bad or embarrassed one bit, you are not just our guest but a friend of ours, Tom speaks highly of you Jay, in fact I think he should be privileged to have you in his life.”

“Oh, why is that?” Tom asks.

Wilma rolls her eyes and shakes her head; she looks back to me. “Whenever Tom is having a good year, it Is usually because he has found that one student that keeps him on his toes, who is able to discuss topics on a rich level, who is able to form and hold an argument and see it through, debate and most importantly absorb what is being learned in his sessions - Molly. But even then, he hasn’t spoken so much about any of them as much as he does about you.”

I start going red from hearing all these compliments but at the same time I feel guilty as she does not know the other half of things, my hand begins to shake from nerves.

“Jay are you ok?” Tom asks

“Jay please eat up and take more meds, you need food and liquids down you too!” Wilma adds.

She continues – “Have you spoken to your parents and let them know you stayed here last night.”

I paused and swiftly responded “They are abroad on holiday and no one is at home.”

“Ah, so it’s good that Tom Brought you back here then. Stay as long as you like until you feel better”

“Thank you.” I reply.

I began eating some of the breakfast foods made, I grabbed some hashbrown, scrambled egg and a slice of toast. Wilma put a bowl of fresh fruits and a shot of homemade ginger and apple juice by me and insisted that I have it. the conversation is about me, she asks me about my personal life, academics and what I want to pursue after university. I ask her what it is she does and I learn that she designs school curriculums for different counties, often those who need one tailored for girls in segregated countries.

After, I tell them both I feel better and would like to go home, I thank them for their hospitality. Tom offers to drop me off but I refuse and use fresh air as an excuse to want to travel home alone. I am dumbfounded by the entire situation I was put under and needed to think about a lot of things on my way home. I felt sick to my stomach as soon as I left – and this was not because of my illness, but my actions over the last year.