The Trouble with Lexie (17 page)

I
T WAS MARCH 31 AND THE WEAK MASSACHUSETTS SUN FELL
through Lexie's office window like a drunk who had tripped on the curb. Lexie turned her head, caught the light on her face, and shut her eyes for a few seconds. She looked back at the computer and read over the email she'd written to Betsy Simms. Treacle. Bathos. Mawkish drivel. It was impossible to write about love without sounding like her brain was soaking in store-brand pancake syrup.

Lexie erased it all. She started again:
Hey! Things are great with Daniel. Please come visit with my mom in June. No way I can deal with her on my own. Love, Lexie P.S. The students are finding out about colleges in emails sent tonight after midnight. Reminds me of when you and I sat by the mailbox waiting, waiting, waiting.
She hit send.

Lexie picked up her cell phone and clicked through pictures of Daniel and herself. She had wanted to download them to her computer but the computer belonged to the school and Daniel implored
her not to put anything personal on it. He'd seen too many cases in business and in life where personal information on company computers led to more trouble than one could imagine. Daniel was going to buy her a new computer soon enough—she could store all her photos on it and they'd be able to email freely. There were rumors about the next generation Apple, and Daniel was waiting for it to come out. In the meantime, everything was on Lexie's phone—thousands of texts, hundreds of photos—the documentation of a courtship that had been so wonderful it made everything that came before it (the bad and the worse) worth it. Even Amy had given up doubting Daniel. Her initial distrust dissipated the day Daniel gave Lexie the log-in names and passwords to all his email accounts. It was his idea, something he insisted on, when Lexie mentioned in passing Amy's skepticism. Lexie and Amy logged into Daniel's email the next day. Amy clicked on and read the emails from Jen. Lexie refused to read them, her stomach clenched as she waited for Amy to complete the reconnaissance mission. “It doesn't look like they're married,” Amy had finally said. “It's all about
did you call the stone guy for the wall out front, did you know Ethan got an A on his apartheid paper
, and
Bob so-and-so called in regards to updating the wills.”

The next day, when they were having lunch at the Inn on the Lake, Lexie handed Daniel an index card with the log-in names and passwords for her computer, her phone, and her email accounts. “What am I going to do with this?” Daniel had asked, and Lexie had insisted he file it away. If she had his passwords, he should have hers. Fair was fair. She knew then that he'd never open even one of her accounts and read anything. But after the breakdown of the relationship with Peter, total electronic transparency made Lexie feel secure. Neither of them had anything to hide.

Lexie zoomed in on a picture of Daniel sitting up naked in bed. At the sight of his face, Lexie could feel her flesh light up. She was a chameleon. Or a glowing jellyfish. Or a firefly. Her skin went through a chemical reaction that changed her cellular structure. Finally, gratefully, at thirty-three, Lexie understood true love. Everything made sense now: Hollywood movies, crimes of passion, suicide even. Lexie felt bad for anyone who had to live without this feeling. She hoped Peter had it with his new girlfriend, Celeste. She was a guitar player they'd socialized with from time to time. Peter no longer talked to Lexie, but she and Celeste were Facebook friends and so Lexie had tracked the relationship, without a tinge of jealousy, through Celeste's various postings.

The schedule with Daniel worked like this: Wednesday nights, Lexie went to Boston and stayed with Daniel in his apartment. Amy, who had her own key, stayed in Lexie's place at Rilke. On Friday nights, Daniel and Lexie checked into the Inn on the Lake, where Lexie stayed as late as she could, sometimes returning to Rilke around two or three in the morning. On Saturday Lexie was in charge of study hall and had student appointments so there was no time to meet, though sometimes they'd have a quick coffee or lunch at the Inn before Daniel returned to Boston. Often Daniel drove all the way into Ruxton on Monday morning so they could have breakfast at the Inn on the Lake after Lexie's first period class. Lexie thought Daniel's willingness to endure the traffic between Boston and Ruxton and back again showed his true devotion to her more than any words or gift ever could. Between their visits Lexie and Daniel texted innumerable times each day. Phone calls were less frequent, because Lexie was busy with students and Daniel was busy with work. At winter break, Lexie stayed for four days
in the Boston apartment with Daniel before flying home alone to California for Christmas.

How Daniel worked out his schedule with Jen, his in-laws, and Ethan, happened softly and quietly outside of his and Lexie's time together. They had decided early on that Lexie wouldn't get involved in the spindled intricacies of Daniel's slow-motion divorce.

Lexie's phone buzzed with a text from Daniel.
Let's stay at the lake house while Jen and Ethan are in Ireland for spring break. We can swim! Have sex! Swim! Sex! Swim! Sex! Did I mention sex?

Lexie replied,
Jen okay with you in her house for the week?

Not a problem.

But what about ME in her house? I don't want to sneak around.

I told her about you. She's okay with it. Not okay with Ethan knowing yet.

Lexie paused. She reread the note. She read it once more. This, above all else—Daniel's daily declarations of love, Daniel's dreams for their future together, Daniel claiming he could barely breathe without her—made what they had feel real. Serious. Permanent.

Spring break at the lake house! Woot woot! Xxxxx!

Lexie went to the infirmary to talk to Amy. Abioye Balewa was there. He blushed when Lexie walked in.

“Oh, excuse me,” Lexie said, and she stepped out and sat on the small front porch waiting for The Prince to leave. She tried to remember where The Prince would be going to school next year. She knew he'd gotten in somewhere early decision. Columbia or Penn. Or maybe it was Cornell.

When The Prince came out he paused in front of Lexie. “How are you today, Miss James?”

“I'm great. You excited about . . . Columbia?” Lexie hoped she was guessing right.

“Yes, I'm looking forward to Columbia. But right now I'm suffering from the common heartbreak.”

“Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. Do you want to come to my office one day this week to talk about it before everyone clears out for spring break?”

“That might be good for me. I'll think about it.”

“Well, call me when you're ready and we'll make an appointment. Okay?”

“Yes. Thank you very much, Miss James.” The Prince nodded and walked off.

Lexie went into the infirmary and shut the door behind herself. “He okay?”

“Broken heart. And I don't want to give up any confidences but it looks like chlamydia's going around the school. I've got six cases of it already.” Amy was unbothered by this. For Lexie, chlamydia was only a few symptoms away from leukemia.

“Six!”

“Well, it's a teeny, tiny pool they're all swimming in here. I suspect if six have come in, at least three times that many have it. I'm going to send out an email today.”

“We should throw condoms at them as they walk down the halls.”

“Hell yeah, Janet Irwin wouldn't mind that, would she?” Janet Irwin was opposed to the school's providing condoms for students.

“So guess what?” Lexie sat on one of the beds and swung her legs so that her boot heels clanged against the iron bed frame.

“Your mama's staying two weeks instead of one?”

“Ha, yeah, funny. We changed her ticket
again
so at least she's coming once the students have all moved out.”

“Well, bless her heart,” Amy said.

“But listen. You know how I was going to stay with Daniel in Boston during spring break?”

“Uh-huh.” Amy looked down at her computer and started clicking. Her fingers moved rapidly, fluidly, while the rest of her body remained perfectly poised. Lexie figured she was writing the email suggesting that anyone who was sexually active be tested for chlamydia.

“Well, we're actually spending the week at the lake house where Jen lives.”

Amy stopped typing and looked up from the computer. She swiveled on the seat so that she was fully facing Lexie. “Where's Jen going to be?”

“She's taking Ethan to Ireland, remember?”

“I can't keep track of where these kids go. It's like a world invasion by Ruxton students. When I was in high school in Alabama, you know where we went for
Easter vacation
?”

“Georgia?”

“No. Church! We went to church on Easter Sunday and other than that we roller-skated around the neighborhood, watched
The
Price Is Right
on TV, did each other's hair, painted our nails. These kids are knocking off a new continent each time they jump on an airplane.”

“Yup. So, anyway, Ethan and Jen will be gone and Daniel and I will be in the lake house.”

“And that's okay with Jen?”

“He told her about us.” Lexie waited for Amy's reaction.

“Huh.” Amy paused. She was calculating something in her head. “Did he tell Ethan?”

“No. They'll tell Ethan everything once he graduates.”

“Did he ever tell his brother?” The calculations continued. Lexie knew there was a wrong or right answer to this question.

“He did but I haven't met him yet. He's been so busy and Daniel himself hasn't seen him since we started dating.”

“He hasn't been to California in all this time?”

“Do you want to go into his email again and make sure everything's on the up and up?” Lexie wished Amy would fully let go of her hesitations and relax. Lexie didn't need an overseer.

“You're right.” Amy threw up her hands. “I'm sorry.”

“If you give me some chocolate I'll forgive you.” Lexie pointed to the drawer where Amy kept the Hershey's Kisses. Amy pulled out a handful and dumped them on the desk. She threw one to Lexie.

“So where's Ethan going to school, anyway?” Amy's voice was back to what Lexie thought of as
blond
: light, airy.

“Umm.” Lexie unwrapped the chocolate. “I guess he'll find out tonight. He didn't get into UCLA and that was his first choice.”

“Poor little boy, he'll probably end up having to slum it at Harvard like his daddy.”

“Terrible, isn't it?” Lexie told Amy the story of when she got into UCLA with a full ride. She called every friend she had, and she even phoned Mr. Simms at work, but she neglected to tell her mother. That night, when Lexie, Betsy, and Mr. and Mrs. Simms sat in a booth at Heidi Pies ordering blizzard sundaes, Mitzy asked what they were celebrating. Lexie didn't realize how cruel her omission was until Betsy blurted Lexie's good news and Mitzy's face flushed candy-pink from her chin to her forehead.

“It's not like she was Mother of the Year,” Amy said, chomping into a Kiss.

“It's not like she was Mother of the Minute,” Lexie said. “She was more like a babysitter I had for a really, really long time.”

“Kids like Ethan got it made,” Amy said.

“Yup,” Lexie said. “Must be hard being the son of Daniel Waite.” Lexie popped the kiss into her mouth. It tasted so good that she shut her eyes for a couple seconds while she let it melt down her throat.

THE FOLLOWING MORNING THERE WAS LOTS OF DRAMA: KIDS HUGGING
one another, cheering, a few crying. Many students got into their first choice school and the ones who didn't were trying to put a good spin on the places where they did get in. As expected, the intense overachievers would be at the Ivies and other top East Coast schools; the more courageous overachievers were hitting up Berkeley, Stanford, and the University of Chicago. The artists and writers planned to colonize the schools in New York City, or Bowdoin, Bates, and Bennington. The party crowd was headed for the University of Vermont and the University of New Hampshire. And the rest were filling in the spots at small private colleges that often their parents had attended or maybe their grandparents. Lexie imagined Dot's list would have been a hundred percent right. What a shame that no one veered off course and surprised them all.

Ethan Waite was the only student who didn't share his news. Lexie wanted to call Daniel (surely Ethan would have told his parents what was up) but he was at meetings in Toronto and had told Lexie beforehand that he would be away from the phone all day.
The speculation among students was that Ethan Waite had aimed too high and hadn't gotten in anywhere. Lexie worried over it until she approached Ethan on the way to dinner and he mumbled, his head hanging low, that he would be going to Harvard. She figured he hadn't told anyone because he wanted to act cool and not brag on a day when bragging was the norm.

When she left the dining hall, Lexie saw she'd received a text from Daniel.
Miss you, beautiful. At cocktails now, will call later.
Lexie replied:
Miss you! Great news about Ethan—woot woot!
She looked up. Janet Irwin was walking toward her. Janet stopped in front of Lexie on the brick pathway. Lexie dropped the phone into her purse. It buzzed with an incoming text and Lexie felt a current run down her right arm.

“You shouldn't use your phone like that on campus.” Janet's long, flat-shod feet created the number eleven on the ground.

“Are you talking about texting?” Did Janet honestly not know the verb
text
?

“Yes. It's bad enough that the students do it, we shouldn't have faculty doing it as well. It's terrible. A technological advancement that has created a serious regression in human development.”

“So you think we're all worse off now that we're in more frequent contact?” Lexie stuck her hand in her purse and fingered the phone. Janet had the distinct ability to make Lexie feel like a teenager, and in being that teenager she wanted to rebel.