Page 38 of A Storybook Wedding

“Are you guys Greek?”

“We are not,” Cecily laughs.

“Does your mother not believe in mercury poisoning?”

“Apparently, no. And believe me, nothing is more awkward than having a freezer full of salmon you can’t figure out what to do with after eating it for a few days in a row. Anna told me she felt like she should be living in Alaska instead of northern Queens.”

I snicker. “Okay, so go on with the story.”

“Right. So Jamie says she’s got big news, and I brace myself, because, I mean, it still stings a little bit, seeing them together, you know? Anyway, she spills the beans, and everyone’s really happy and congratulatory, except for Melanie, who bursts into tears and runs to the bathroom. So Jeff—he’s Melanie’s husband—follows her, and Jamie’s all confused, and my mother’s about to pass out from the joy of three impending grandchildren. Finally, Jeff and Melanie come back to the table, and Mel says she’s pregnant too, but there’s only one fetus taking up residence in her womb, so now she feels like a failure.”

“That’s insane.”

“Oh, believe me, I know! To recap: Anna and Cody have four kids. Melanie and Jeff are pregnant with their third. Jamie’s got triplets in the oven. And my mother, who I’m sure is thinking she’ll need a bigger house just for the holiday gatherings alone, gives me a sidelong glance like she’s counting my eggs and says that it would have been nice if I told her I had a boyfriend. So I’m like, ‘Boyfriend? What’s this about?’ and she said that I shouldn’t go around kissing people on TV if they’re not my boyfriend.”

“I think your mother and my mother would get along really well,” I laugh.

“Sounds that way,” she says.

“But other than that, nobody gave you a hard time about the karaoke?” I ask.

“No, but only because they expect these types of antics from me. I’ll always disappoint them, if for no other reason than I’m not racing down the aisle and popping out grandbabies. I’m pretty sure my mother looks at me and wonders, Where’d I go wrong with that one?”

“Well, happy Thanksgiving.”

“Seriously. Okay, so now you’ve heard my saga. Tell me about this brick wall you’re about to crash into.”

“Fine.” I sigh. “Here goes. First of all, we really shouldn’t even be talking on the phone.”

“What? Why?”

“You know the email from Dillon?”

“Yeah.”

“It sounded very much like he was insinuating that I was about to get charged with sexual harassment or something. So I looked in the personnel handbook for Matthias University, just to see if my job is in danger. Unfortunately, it turns out that yes, I am absolutely going to be fired.”

“Stop it. No, you’re not.”

“Hang on. I’m texting you a screenshot.” I press a series of buttons and wait for her to respond.

“Got it. Sorry, my phone’s taking a sec. I’m opening it. Let me just put you on speaker. What exactly am I looking at here?”

“That’s the policy on intimate consensual relationships.”

“But we’re not in an intimate consensual relationship,” she argues.

“You’re right. Only, according to Dillon, we are. He said in his email, ‘It has been brought to my attention that you have been intimately involved with a student in the program.’”

“So I think the real question is who brought this to his attention?”

“CJ, it’s all over the internet. I’m sure Dillon Norway doesn’t live under a rock.”

“Fine. I guess that’s fair. But it was just a stupid kiss!”

“I know. And I know it wasn’t some intentional ploy to destroy my teaching career. But I’m sure Dillon’s job is to look out for the university, and if he sees me as a risk in any way, he’s definitely going to get rid of me. This has the potential to be a big scandal. Teacher-student interrelations have a terrible connotation attached to them—even if the student is basically the same age as the teacher and they’re both in their thirties.”

“I’m still twenty-nine,” she corrects me. “At least for a few more weeks.”

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