Office Hours: A Student and Professor Story

Nosy Professor

While Jesse was finishing up some emails, Mara dialed her mama's number. Last weekend, Mama had been plastered; she'd had enough whiskey and vodka in her system to intoxicate a whale. But she couldn't really blame her mom for drinking too much; a lot of people would have turned to the bottle after they'd found out that their sister had died. Mara hadn't been able to feel much grief over the death of her aunt Tiffany as she'd never met the woman. And from most of her mama's stories about her aunt, Tiffany had sounded like a real bitch. Her aunt had cut off all contact with Mama once she'd discovered that she'd conceived a child with an Indian man (i.e., Mara); and when Tiffany had been in elementary school, she had often screamed the n-word at poor defenseless schoolchildren. But her mama had always held out hope that her sister would become enlightened and that they would reconcile. That hope had been extinguished when she'd read a Facebook post on Tiffany's death from a long struggle with stomach cancer. As soon as Mara had received the call from her mother, she'd packed her bags and booked a bus ticket to Minerva, Ohio, ignoring the fact that she'd had a paper on Foucault that was worth half of her grade due in two days. Mara had wanted to stay longer in Minerva with her mom, but Mama had made her go back to campus. "Don't let me be the reason you don't get that fancy college degree," she'd said.

"Mara?" she said, picking up on the first ring.

"You okay, Mama?" Mara asked, relieved to hear that her mother's words weren't slurred.

Mara could practically see Mama rolling her eyes. "I'm fine, sweetie. But thanks for checking up on me. How are you, honey?"

Okay, considering how I've been blackmailed into having sex with my professor. "Great," Mara lied through her teeth. "I love George Eliot College. I just wish it wasn't so far away from you." George Eliot College was in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, a five-hour car ride away from Mama.

"Oh, you won't miss me that much once you start having fun with all of your friends."

Mara forced a laugh. "Yeah, but even with all of my friends, I still miss you." Especially since they were all imaginary.

"Aw, I miss you too. But before you know it, you'll be back home for spring break and I'll be fattening you up with my world-famous ribs."

Mara smiled. "Thanks, Mama. So you're sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine. Yeah, I still can't believe Tiffany is gone, and despite all of the shit between us, I love her and miss her. But you don't need to worry about me. Just focus on enjoying college."

If that were only possible. "I will. Call me if you need anything."

"I'm supposed to be the one telling you that. I'm your mother."

"Yeah, I mean it though."

"Oh, I love you, Mara."

"I love you too, Mama."

After they said goodnight to each other, Mara looked up, seeing Jesse in the doorway. At the sight of him in his black silk robe, hatred for him pumped into her, replacing the love for her mother.

He went to sit next to her on the bed. She scooched away from him, but he took her into his arms anyway. He fingered the red silk kimono she wore. "Called your mom?"

"I don't see how that's any of your business, but yeah, I called her," she said.

"You sounded worried about her."

"Well, look who's prying."

"Your mom doing okay?" he asked.

She shook her head, laughing. "Oh, stop acting as if you care."

"I'm not acting," he protested. "I genuinely want to know."

"Right. Well, not that I believe you actually care, but my mom's okay."

"Why were you worried about her then?"

An exasperated breath left her. "What's with all of the questions?"

"Is it a crime to take an interest in a student's life?"

"No, but your kind of interest is a crime."

"Tell me."

She huffed. She didn't know why he was trying so hard to pretend that he gave a damn. Maybe he thought it would make her soften toward him and make her a more willing participant in their sexual relations. "Again, not that I think you really care, but my mom's sister died recently and she was cut up about it. She's better now, but last weekend was really bad and I had to go take care of her." She almost winced, remembering the smell of puke and whiskey that had filled the trailer. Then she winced, remembering the dark circles under her mama's eyes and the vomit on her shirt.

"I'm sorry about your aunt."

Mara lifted her shoulders. "I never knew her, and even if I did, I don't think I would've liked her. She wasn't exactly fond of people that weren't lily-white." She rubbed her arm, which was the color of coffee with several spoons of cream.

"Sorry."

She lifted her shoulders again. "I'm just glad Mama's doing better."

"Last weekend? Wasn't that the weekend before the Foucault paper was due?"

"Yeah."

He twisted one of her curls. "You could've asked for an extension."

"You're notorious for not giving extensions." She'd overheard a classmate saying that he'd begged Professor Murray for an extra day to work on his paper after his computer had been stolen the day before the due date. Professor Murray's answer had been a hard no.

"I would've made an exception for you."

"Only if I'd agreed to have anal sex with you," she said derisively.

"You truly think I'm that awful of a person?"

"Can you blame me?" she asked.

In a quiet voice, he said, "I suppose not."

"I'm tired," she said. "I'm going to sleep." Then she let her head fall onto a pillow and closed her eyes.

"Good night, my darling."