# Part II
The semester continued, and Jan and Dodi established their routine. Dodi would show up shortly before the start of class and leave about an hour before the finish. Jan considered complaining, but she was so glad to see the woman go, she kept her mouth shut. Besides, she was new and didn’t want to rock the boat. During class times, Dodi checked attendance, updated student file folders and played with her nails.
“These records are very critical,” she told Jan with emphasis. “The amount the school gets paid per student depends on their showing up to class.” As if in response to something Jan had said, she added “And I know what I’m doing!”
When she was finished with record keeping, Dodi would sit at the side of class, arms crossed, shaking her head at Jan’s lectures and mumbling. During the lab session of class, she would be gone to her car to ‘get something’ or out wandering the halls, talking to friends. Jan felt sure that the trips to the car were to get something stronger than soda. The woman always had a relaxed, happy look when she returned.
#
Dean Dan, was at his desk when Dodi buzzed by. Instinctively his back tensed when he saw her, but he put on his happy face. She stopped.
“Dodi,” he smiled.
“Oh, Dan,” she flopped her skinny butt down in his side chair. She sighed.
“How is it going?” he asked.
“Okay, I guess. Oh, that new teacher. Jesus.” Dodi rolled her eyes. “I have no idea why you guys hired her. She’s a disaster. She has no idea of how to teach the class.”
Dan smiled thinly. “Well, she came well recommended, Dodi and she did just start, so….”
“Oh, I know, Dan. Such a softy. Got to give every waif in the door a chance.” She smiled broadly. Her extra white teeth sparkled.
Dan grimaced. “Well, I’d say, let’s just try and see how it plays out. Shall we? Don’t jump to conclusions.”
“Of course, Dan, of course.” Dodi smirked and got up. “Whatever you say, you the Bossman.” She leaned forward and walked her fingers playfully over his shoulder. “I’ll be seeing you…sweetie.”
Dan’s smile froze as she walked away. When she was finally out the swinging door, he sighed and hunched over his desk. His shoulders sagged. He pulled out a small cotton handkerchief. Mopping his brow, he pulled it away and stared. It was soaked with sweat.
Damn that woman, he thought. He was a man with a wife and six kids. Couldn’t she get that? He thought he was done with her and here she was back again.
“Shit!”
The office was empty so there was no one to hear. He leaned forward and adjusted a picture of himself and three of the kids.
“Shit!” he said again to the air.
For the next half hour, Dan struggled to concentrate on the spreadsheet on his desk. The numbers swam before his eyes. He looked up at the clock: 9 pm. Maybe a cup of coffee.
Pushing the chair back, he got up and went to the men’s room. He splashed water on his face. Quickly looking under the stalls, he verified he was alone. Leaning forward on the porcelain sink, he stared at his reflection. Small and neat, he had always been meticulous about his appearance. He straightened the little red bow tie at the top of the clean, white, long-sleeve shirt.
Turning from side to side, he studied the short hair above his ears. More grey every year. He leaned forward and got close to the mirror.
“It was a momentary lapse in judgment,” he whispered. He studied the reflection to see if it was buying that line.
He went to get a cup of coffee and stood stirring the black brew. Memories floated back to him.
#
A year before, Dan had been passed over for the head Dean spot. The job had been given to Nancy instead. He was given many assurances of “his turn” versus “her turn.” Also, suggestions of “your time will come.” It was all bullshit, and he knew it. After ten years in this salt mine, that had been his big chance. He had a Ph.D. and administration experience. They gave the job to a woman who was ‘working on her Ph.D.’ all for political reasons. The reason being that it looked good for them.
To him, it was a slap in the face. That, plus Jean, his wife of twenty years, was always preoccupied with the kids. She never seemed to have time for him. Neither did they. Except of course when they needed money or the car.
Dodi, sensing something like blood in the water, had upped her usual flirting. It had become a full-frontal assault. She could be funny and fun. Feeling neglected, he appreciated the frequent massages to his ego. In the end, after a few drinks on a Friday night, he let her massage something else too.
At first, it was exciting. It felt like being in Catholic boys’ choir and getting out of class early. It was fresh and exhilarating.
But then, when she started to call. And call and call and…. Jesus, he almost broke out into a sweat again thinking about it. When he didn’t return some calls, she ended up calling him at home and one of the kids answered. Good God!
First, he tried to break it off by appealing to her better nature.
“Jean will be heartbroken if she finds out. I’ve never done anything like this before.”
Dodi had rolled her big blue eyes.
“Yeah, yeah. See you lover, Friday night.” Friday was ‘their’ night because Jean went to play bridge and the kids all scattered to different events. Dan was starting to panic. He had to calm down and think. Finally, it hit him.
“Dodi, you know how much I appreciate you,” he told her one night.
“You better,” she laughed and took a long drag on her cigarette.
“Well,” he yanked at the bow tie. He had rehearsed this speech several times. “The thing is, if we get found out. Even suspected, by anyone, we’ll both lose our jobs.”
This caused Dodi pause. The cigarette hung in the air. They were at a small, dark bar on the edge of town where, hopefully, no one knew them. The overhead fan moved the smoke around in lazy curls.
“You think?” Her thin penciled eyebrows shot up.
“I know so,” he replied staring morosely into his drink.
“Hmm,” she replied and took another drag. “You know Dan, I might just call it an early night. If you don’t mind. Got to get up early for the gym. Plus, the hubby gets restless if I’m gone too many hours.” She laughed lightly.
“Well…” he managed to sound sad. He knew she was in the middle of a nasty divorce.
“Yeah.” She grabbed her Dolce and Gabana bag and dragged it behind her and scooted out of the booth. She kissed the air close to his forehead. “Later.”
“Bye,” he got out a little wave and watched her skinny sequined frame retreat through the dark wood-paneled bar. He took a big slug of his drink and let out a long sigh.
It was much later that evening that he received a text from Dodi.
“Dan, don’t think this is working for the two of us. Thanks for the good times! Later. D”
Letting out his breath, he realized that he had been holding it. As relieved as he was, something told him this wasn’t the end of the Dodi thing. He erased the text and then went carefully through his cell and got rid of the rest of them. God forbid Jean or one of the kids found any of them and asked who they were from.
What the hell were you thinking, you idiot? He cursed himself and swore to Jesus himself to never, never do this again. He crossed himself.
Continued Part III