Polyamory Ch. 00: Prelude

My name is Hank Roberts, I'm a professor at Flagler College but what I teach is unimportant as far as this story is concerned. You'll learn about it later. I had been teaching a few years and living a bachelor's life despite having been married and having two sons from my previous marriage. This story begins one day when I went to the dean's office to discuss a student who was causing some problems.

When I got there, the woman who normally sat at the reception desk for the dean was replaced by a much younger woman who may have been 25 or 35. It was hard to tell because while she had a very pretty face, she had no makeup and her clothing was very conservative, almost ascetic. She was quite pleasant and in her way beautiful. There was even a somewhat flirtatious manner about her.

Once I was done with the dean, I tried to strike up a conversation but every thing I tried fell short because she knew little about politics, nothing about film—a favorite subject of mine—and I found nothing she had read that I had read except for the Bible. She confessed that she was a Christian and about all her church allowed its members to read was the Bible.

"What do you do in your spare time?" I asked.

She responded, "Read the Bible, visit others in the church, go to church and she and her parents walked a good bit most nights."

I didn't say so but I thought I didn't think anyone lived like that anymore. "So what denomination of Christianity are you?" I innocently asked.

"Oh, we are not any denomination. We do not believe in them."

Of course, that simply meant nothing really. "Do you associate with churches of your theological viewpoint?" I asked.

"Yes, but there are not many of us."

"How would you describe your theological perspective?"

"Bible believing, fundamental, Bible preaching."

Again that really told me nothing. I decided to change the subject. "Maybe this is too forward for having just met, but I think you are quite pretty and, if I am any judge, quite nice. Would you go to lunch with me tomorrow? We can go to the student center or to the coffee shop down the street, whichever is most comfortable for you."

"I'm not allowed to date."

"I'm just asking you to lunch not on a date."

"Well, maybe. I get my lunch hour at 12:00. If you want, come by and maybe I'll go with you. I have to pray about it."

A break for some humor, "May I pray that you'll say yes."

She caught my humor and smiled. "I guess that's fair. Why don't you?"

"I will for sure. See you tomorrow."

I couldn't figure it out. I had no idea why I was attracted to her. She appeared sitting in the chair to have a figure like I like: thin, small breasted, auburn hair that was long although she had it in a bun, and bright brown eyes that were like pools of chocolate. Otherwise, I was anything but a fundamentalist. I was Presbyterian, at least nominally so. The pastor of the church across from the college would prefer to see me far more often than she did.

I spent the afternoon on my regular faculty chores, grading, preparing lectures, and attending a committee meeting for a committee I hated. I hated the subject matter and I did not particularly like the other members. By the time I was done with the meeting, I had one thing in mind—a trip down the street to my favorite bar where I had gotten to know others of the local not so well placed—a surfer, a biker, a pool maintenance guy, and a retired minister. We drank beer and talked about anything and everything. Mostly we agreed on politics and religion, being a bit cynical about both.

On my way over, I began to wonder why I was having lunch with such a conservative woman. It made little sense, but maybe there was something there I sensed that I could not identify. I hoped so. But, I hadn't had any interest in anybody for a long time. I did my job, went to visit my sons once a month, and went to movies. I taught a class on 20th century film, so even my hobby, if you could call it that, was part of my job.

After a couple of beers, I walked home in Lincolnville, a place I could live only by renting. My place was not anything special. It was a two story half of a house. I entered into a hallway which had a living room immediately to the left. Straight back was the kitchen and small dinette. Upstairs were two bedrooms and a bath.

The place was old and about all that had been done to it in years was re-plumbing the water lines and upgrading the electricity, so I could have air conditioning—in St. Augustine everybody needed AC. I got some dinner ready and sat down to eat and watch some news which was depressing so my mind began to wander.

I thought about my encounter with Deborah. Did I tell you her name was Deborah, a good biblical name? There was something in her eyes, her manner, her apparent flirt. I'm not sure she even realized she had flirted, but she did. I saw it and felt it.

I spent far too much time thinking on it to make sense, but I couldn't get her out of my mind. I dilly dallied the evening away, when I should have been preparing for classes, and went to bed.

The next morning I woke up looking forward to lunch. I taught my two classes, did some office hours. I'm not even sure why we are required to do office hours, nobody ever shows up. Then I meandered to the deans office.

When I opened the door, Deborah looked up and smiled flirtatiously at me. I'm not sure how to describe a flirtatious smile, but it wasn't like she smiled to welcome me. It was different, a subtlety in the smile, the way she held her head, and moved her eyes.

"Good morning, Professor, how may I help you?"

She was joking, right? "Morning Deborah and you can call me John. No need for formality."

"Well, we'll see about that won't we."

Was she putting me on notice? "You still free for lunch?" I wasn't about to ask her if she wanted to go. I wanted to put it so it was assumed she was going.

"I think so. Your prayer must have done some good because I woke up thinking I would go. Is it time?"

"I'm free until 3."

"OK, then, can you give me a minute?'

"Sure."

"I'll be right back."

She took her purse and hurried off in the direction of the bathroom. It was only two or three minutes before she came back. It appeared she had put some lip stick on. That was different.

We walked to the coffee shop because that was her suggestion. "I don't want to have to explain myself to the people I work for," she explained.

She was wearing a very conservative suit. The skirt was long almost to her ankles; her blouse was pink covered nearly by a jacket which hung loosely on her so what figure she had was nearly hidden. There was just a hint that she actually had breasts. The jacket was short enough that when she walked ahead, I could see swaying hips. Her hair, as usual, at least as far as I knew, was in a bun. She hardly had any make up on if any except a slight hint of the lip stick. Her shoes were black pumps.

If she was interested in attracting a man, there was little sign of it. I was wondering if she were a lesbian, but that made no more sense than her being straight.

We talked about how nice a day it was, which it was, how nice it was to work in the historic district where it was such a beautiful array of architecture, and that we both liked working at the college, which I really did not. The place was so stuffy and arrogant. You'd think we were an ivy league school the way the administration acted. You could cut the pretension with a dull butter knife. Getting a job in higher ed was simply a bitch though, so I took the job offered and St. Augustine is a nice place to live.

We arrived at the shop and found a seat. I asked Debra what she wanted for a drink and food. She asked for water and a turkey club with mustard, dijon if they had it. I went and got our orders—bacon, lettuce and tomato for me.

"So Debra, you say you attend a conservative church?"

"Yes, but I sort of question a lot of stuff they teach."

"Like what?"

"Oh, a lot of things that I think are contradictory. They believe in predestination and I think its contradictory and they believe in a literal interpretation of the Bible but then don't interpret it that way. Stuff like that."

"So what do they believe about predestination?"

"Do you know anything about it?"

"Yes, Debra, I grew up Presbyterian."

"I don't really know what that is except that that means you are really liberal."

"Well, that is another subject. Tell me about your, or your church's view of predestination."

"Well, they believe that God determines who is saved and who is not and has decided before you are even born if you will go to heaven or hell."

"And you think that is contradictory?'

"Yes, with the whole idea that God is love and full of grace. How can those two things be true. If God loves us and is gracious to forgive our sins, then how can He just damn some of us to hell without our even having a chance."

"Well, Debra, I agree with you but the hard Calvinists, which is what that view is, say that God chose to save any of us is a sign of his love and grace."

"I know, but I think that's non-sense. Don't tell anyone I told you that, my parents would die."

"We could talk about that for days, but I think we may agree. What about the literalism thing?"

"Well, they say they take the Bible literally but then they interpret certain things. It seems if they are literal, then interpretation is not possible."

"Like, you have an example?" I ask. The barista calls out my name. I go, pick up the sandwiches and drinks, pay and return.

"An example. The one that bugs me the most is about something I feel uncomfortable talking about with a man."

"What is that? I'm pretty open to most any subject, I teach film you know."

"I don't have a clue what that means. I know there are movies and TV shows and the like, but I've never seen one, so what does a professor of film teach."

"In simple terms, we watch movies and TV shows, seldom whole ones but sampling's so we can discuss the qualities that go into a good film, good drama, and the other elements like the music score, the photography, editing and so on and so forth."

"I'm still not sure what that means, but OK, if you say you're up to it, it's their take on women and sex that I think is screwy."

"I take it they have a very conservative view given the way you dress?"

"That's an understatement. My father dictates what my mother and I wear, what we can do and where we can go. Other than work, I go nowhere that Daddy doesn't go with me. I know not all women live like that, but I can't afford to live alone and I can't save any money because I have to pay rent and pay for my food now that I have a job. By the time I do that I have next to nothing left."

I'm amazed. I'd not known a woman so oppressed in my life. "I take it that is why you dress as you do?"

"Yes, but that is off the subject. The church teaches that women are to be subservient to men and they use many different texts to support that. The one's I don't get and think are unjust are those that have to do with what happens if a man and woman are caught in adultery or fornication." She stops blushing slightly, "Sorry, I know that has to do with sex and I'm not supposed to talk about it except at church."

"Debra, I hardly think of those words as talking about sex."

"OK, anyway, the woman is stoned maybe to death and the man only has to pay her father, brother, if her father is dead, or her husband recompense. Why the difference?" She stops and looks at me for an answer.

"I'm on the same page as you on that, Debra."

"Well, another has to do with sex. I think the rules for what one can and cannot do have nothing to do with the Bible. Literally, the Bible says we cannot have sexual intercourse before marriage. Yet, the church teaches I can't even touch myself before marriage. Then sex is for nothing but having babies, but the woman is supposed to make sure the man is sexually satisfied. I think there is something wrong with that." She barely gets the words out because she has become so emotional.

She sobs into her napkin for a minute. I reach out and touch her forearm to comfort her, but she flinches me away. I'm a bit confused.

After a minute or two, she continues, "I have feelings. The few times I have broken the rules, it has felt good. Sorry," she quickly corrects herself, "I've never been with a man. Other than my father spanking me, I have hardly been touched by a man. It's forbidden until I marry."

I'm now flummoxed. "Maybe it is prying and a bit too intrusive so please feel free not to answer, but how do you get married if you cannot have a relationship with a man to know if you want to marry?"

"Oh, that's easy. Your father arranges it. Daddy has been good enough to propose some men to me, but I can't think of a one I can imagine living with much less doing, well, you know."

"Shit, Debra. Oh, sorry for my language. I don't even know what to say. I know I certainly do not believe that way."

"Hank, I'm all emotional now. I don't want to spoil our lunch."

"I invited you and maybe you won't spoil my lunch if you would agree to see me again."

She seemed to think about it, "I'll agree to see you again if you can promise me that you do not find me crazy. Look at the way I am dressed. There's all those girls and women on campus that dress fashionably and are so sexy. Why me?"

"I don't know. I was divorced a few years ago. I have two sons and I decided to focus on them and my job. I've not dated. Occasionally, if there was some special event, I'd ask a colleague to go with me or be asked, but none were dates in my mind. I found something alluring about you, behind your conservative look, I saw a pretty face and a flirtatious manner."

"Me flirtatious? I don't even know how to flirt."

"Well, you do, believe me. Just the way you move your head, smile, move your tongue across your lips, is flirtatious when you responded to me."

She seemed embarrassed and sat speechless for a few seconds. "Ok, Hank, to be clear. I do not want to dress like I do. I do it because I cannot afford other clothes. These are what Mommy and Daddy buy me. I want to wear clothes like the girls on campus do. Geeez, I'm only 22. I actually, have a body in here", she said waving her hands down herself.

"I'm sure of that", I say geekishly.

"Actually, if I know anything about bodies, and I look at the magazines on the tables around here, I have a pretty nice body."

"Debra, I'm not sure we want to go there today. We can leave it at that. What are the chances that you could go to a movie with me and have dinner?"

"That'll be hard. I am kept on a short leash. I have to be home 30 minutes after I get off work."

"OK, I'll tell you what, there are matinees every day. Why don't we go to the matinee on Friday and have a bite to eat afterward?"

"I have to work."

"I bet the dean would be more than happy to let you take some personal time. The campus is nearly closed on Friday afternoon with no classes scheduled."

"He has an agreement with Daddy to report any inappropriate behavior."

"I'm sure he does, but what he considers inappropriate is most likely different than your father's definition," I said as conspiratorially as I could.

She smiled. It was a different smile than ones before like something had broken loose in her. It was her mouth, her face, her eyes, her whole countenance lighted up brilliantly. "OK, I'll ask him. But I can't wear this?"

"You could, but I'll tell you what. Give me your sizes, I'll buy you something if you'll trust me. Nothing too bold but something I think you'll look pretty in. I bought my wife clothes a lot and she always looked gorgeous. I even bought Mom a dress or two. What do you say?"

"You'd do that for me?"

"Why not? I can splurge once for a girl."

She looked down at her hands and thought a bit too long and I was getting anxious that she'd say no, but then she looked up, gave me that smile again and said, "OK, but if it turns out to be just one", she stopped and asked, "Is this a date?"

"I think so."

"Wow, I've never been on a date. Oh my, I'm going on a date?" she said with wonder and amazement in her voice. She even hugged herself and squirmed on her chair. "A date! Me! I'll be in big trouble if Daddy or Mommy finds out."

Now I was getting uncertain that she may expect too much. I took out my wallet, got out my business card the college provided and said, "Debra, this is my business card with my phone number and email on it. Once you've cleared it with the dean, please call me. Ask him if you can have off after lunch. That way, I'll pick you up at noon and we have the whole afternoon. I'll decide on a movie that I hope you'll like. Is there anything you think you may like?"

"I don't know a thing about movies. Every once in a while I'll take a book home, hidden in my purse, and read it after I go to bed."

"What sorts of books?"

"Novels about mysteries. I just finished one by Dan Brown."

"That sounds good. I think a movie made of one of his books is on. I'll check."

I dropped her off at her office and went about my business unable to think of much else but what may be under her clothes. What a pervert I am!