Page 15 of Falling for the Quarterback

I open the door and Hubert follows me out of the office and down the hallway. Students trickle by on their way to their next classes or other activities, and it gives me a renewed rush of excitement for the term ahead.

As we reach my classroom door, I say my goodbyes.

“Now off you go and have a good class, Professor.” Hubert gives me another peck on my cheek and then turns to head off in the direction of the student union.

I watch him amble off and shake my head at the strange morning I’ve had already. First Hendy and now Hubert.

Two blasts from my past and one of them an unwelcome one.

* * *

The next day my two lectures go rather smoothly and I use the remaining time to focus on my lecture notes for tomorrow. In a blink of an eye, the day is over and I meet up with Hubert at the Bear Paw pub just a block off campus.

We’d decided on two pints of lager and toast to one another. A sense of homesickness washes over me as I sit across from my family friend. The beer, the pub, the accent all remind me of home.

“So tell me all about your courses, my darling Charlotte.”

I take my first sip, toss away that blue feeling, and begin to tell him about my courses and curriculum.

“I’ve been tasked with teaching a small seminar on Mondays and Wednesdays and two lectures on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I’m also currently working on a paper that I’d like to finish writing and have published in the spring.”

“Sounds lovely. You’ve always been such an overachiever that I have no doubt you will do what you say you’ll do.” I blush under Hubert’s compliment.

It’s so rare that I hear high praise from senior figures. My father has never complimented me for my achievements. Overachieving was simply a nonnegotiable with him. Yet even earning the highest marks were still never enough to make him proud of me.

As if reading my thoughts, Hubert continues.

“I haven’t seen your father since before the holidays.” He scratches the bald spot on his head, as if puzzling out an invisible calendar in his brain. Then he shakes off the thought. “We keep missing one another. Andrew continues to be at the top of his game. There’s no slowing him down. I think the apple doesn’t fall from the tree.” He raises his bushy eyebrows dubiously.

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” I say, thinking how vastly different I am from my father. “From what I hear, my father is doing fine.”

Our conversation continues as Hubert shares news from home and I fill him in on my recent life updates and we order and finish our dinners, including a second round of drinks.

Finally, a waitress returns to our table to check on us.

“Another round for either of you?”

“None for this old man. How about you, Charlotte?” Hubert replies, glancing over at me.

I shake my head and pat my very full stomach. “I’m stuffed, thank you. Just a box for takeaway, please.” I motion to my unfinished burger, and she nods and walks off toward the bar.

It’s been nice to catch up with Hubert, but our conversation has made me a tad antsy. I want to be home to mentally prep for the fact that I’ll be seeing Hendy in class tomorrow. That is, if he stays true to his firm commitment to remain in my class. When I checked the enrollment system earlier today, his name was still listed on the roster.

Just my luck. My one-night stand that won’t leave.

We chitchat a bit more until Hubert calls it a night. He places some bills on the table and we stand to give each other hugs.

“Thank you so much for dinner and the company. It was so nice to see you.”

“The pleasure was all mine, pet.” He boops me on the tip of my nose as if I’m still a little girl. And just as he grabs his hat to place it on his head, he brings up the one subject I didn’t want to discuss.

“By the way, I just ran into Oliver at a reception I attended a fortnight ago. He inquired about you and your whereabouts.” I step back, wobbling a bit on my heels and grab the back of the chair to remain upright. Here we go.

“Oh?” I try to keep the disdain out of my voice. “What did you tell him?”

“He asked if I’d heard from you lately. I told him no but that I might be over in the States and would see you. He prattled on and on about you and asked that I pass on his regards. Oliver sure does seem to miss you.” He eyes up my reaction and I think he wants to know how I am post-breakup, even though it feels like a lifetime ago. I know my parents still hope I’ll forgive Oliver and come back home someday. That will never happen.

I shrug. “Well, I’m sure he’ll find someone new soon. I’ve found that I enjoy being on my own for once.”

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