Chapter 36
Chapter Thirty-Six
To: Franky St. James
From: Marcus Bilson, Chair
Subject: Future grant funding requests
Dr. St. James,
It has come to my attention that your grant funding request to the Animal Behavior Society was not vetted by my office before submission.
I understand that my predecessor gave you significant latitude to conduct your research and its ancillary activities.
However, my memorandum, dated September 15, specified that all grant applications originating from this department’s faculty are to be funneled through my office first. While this might seem restrictive, we must all work together in the spirit of cooperation to ensure alignment with departmental goals.
Allied to this, congratulations on being awarded the grant from the Animal Behavior Society. The department is proud of your work and how well it reflects on this institution.
Marcus Bilson, PhD
Chair, Department of Biology
Lakeshore University
Franky
“Did you need a chair, Dr. St. James?”
I looked over my glasses at the graduate student who had offered and shook my head.
“Thank you, but no. Let’s continue with the examination.
” Leaning carefully over the terrarium to ensure Super Kid’s increasingly noticeable bump didn’t get too close, I indicated with a pointer at the subject of my presentation during this graduate seminar.
The Deroceras cecconii, a terrestrial pulmonate gastropod mollusk, a species of slug local to central Italy, was currently engaged in a vigorous—for it—bout of copulation with a mate.
“See how the penial glands are starting to evert over the partner to deposit a secretion.”
“The secretion has such an unusual shape.” June was one of the more promising grad students. “Like translucent antlers.”
“Yes, exactly. You’ll also note that our specimens have already undergone a reciprocal exchange of sperm. Note the off-white blobs here and here. So what is the purpose of the post-exchange secretion? Any ideas?”
June looked thoughtful. “Similar to love darts of some snail species?”
“It’s possible. The secretion could be a way of marking the mate, ensuring they don’t mate with someone else too soon. Or perhaps it’s an additional bonding element. See the—”
“Dr. St. James?”
Looking over my shoulder at the source of the voice, I was surprised to see the assistant to Dr. Al-Hadi, head of Harvard’s Department of Organismic and Evolutionary Biology.
“Yes?”
“Sorry to interrupt, Professor. Dr. Al-Hadi was wondering if you could stop by his office this morning. We tried to call, but it went straight to voice mail.”
The specimens in the Harvard Malacology Lab were sensitive to sound when the terrarium lids were removed, so I usually required all cell phones to be on mute or vibrate. It looked like I’d turned mine off altogether.
“Please tell him I’ll stop by after my seminar.”
I turned back to the small group of students and researchers. “Okay, where were we?”
Melissa and Sean had invited me over to their apartment in the Back Bay—Melissa had moved in right after the holidays—and we’d had a lovely meal of pumpkin soup, chicken pesto pasta (nut free), and garlic bread.
Now that Sean knew about the pregnancy, we were having a good laugh about my original “special” request.
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!”
A blushing Sean gazed in adoration at Melissa, who was all agog at the situation. “It was a delicate time. You and I had just reconnected, so that kind of complication might have scared you off.”
“I like to think I’m made of sterner stuff.
” She sent a grin my way. Melissa and I had hit it off immediately, which was unusual because people had a hard time warming up to me.
“Just think, I could have been having dinner with my boyfriend’s baby mama.
You’ve denied me a great cocktail party story. ”
Sean reached over to cover Melissa’s hand. “Sorry, honey. Next time someone asks me to be a sperm donor, I’ll consider the future entertainment value.”
Melissa chuckled, then turned to me. “Sorry, I don’t mean to make fun.”
“Not at all. I did ambush him and I so wish I’d recorded it. His face was priceless.”
“Oh, I bet!” She jumped up from the table. “Time for the peach cobbler. Vanilla ice cream for everyone?”
“Yes!” both Sean and I said in unison.
With Melissa in the kitchen, the mood turned a little more reserved.
She was a bubbly individual, the kind of person who brightened every room she entered.
I thought it interesting how well the two of them balanced each other.
“My Seven lifts the spirit of his Six,” Melissa had said.
While I didn’t completely buy into the pseudoscience around Enneagram personality types, I recognized that some people just fit together.
Sean was still digesting the reveal of my baby’s father, and now that Melissa was occupied, I could tell he wanted to analyze it further.
“When Jason told me, I couldn’t believe it. Still can’t, to be honest.”
“I know, it seems like a strange choice.”
“Maybe not so strange. Jason’s always wanted kids. I didn’t know about your baby fever, but it’s been on his radar for years.”
“So, why hasn’t it happened? Many men his age are already married with families.” Now that Sean knew, I felt safe asking for more in-depth knowledge about his brother.
“I think he’s worried he’ll turn out like Dad.”
“But he has so many stronger male influences in his life. You, Theo, his teammates. And he’s such a family-oriented person.”
“It’s because he could be traded in an instant,” Melissa said as she placed the peach cobbler down before me. The scent of sweet fruit and fragrant biscuit crust filled the air. “He was, what, ten years with the Cougars? He could have settled down here, but he didn’t.”
Sorry, but that explained nothing. “Again, plenty of pro athletes marry and start families with the risk of trade hanging over their heads.” My dad did, though I’m not sure he would have married Mom if she hadn’t become pregnant with Cat.
As new parents, barely twenty years old, the relationship was doomed from the start.
Sean picked up his spoon. “I think he hasn’t committed to anyone because he saw what Theo had and wanted the same. He wanted it to be perfect. Now that he’s getting older, he’s—”
“Not so fussy?” I offered.
“That’s not what I meant.” He sent a guilty look my way.
“It’s okay. I understand what you’re saying. Life is a series of compromises.” Jason and I both saw an opportunity with each other that would have once seemed extremely improbable.
Sean considered that. “Are you regretting your choice?”
“Not at all. Everything I learn about Jason assures me he’s going to be a great dad. I would just hate for him to regret choosing me.”
“He doesn’t.” Sean broke up his cobbler with his spoon. “He’s very invested. Calls me every day to ask after you.”
“As long as the boundaries are clear,” Melissa said airily.
“What boundaries?” Sean asked. I was glad he did so I didn’t have to.
“Well, you’re co-parents but not …” She waved to intimate the rest.
“No, nothing like that.”
Melissa dug her spoon into the cobbler while I dug my nails into my hand to suppress my burgeoning blush.
“Then you have to assume that he’s going to be dating, and you will be, too, eventually. How will you feel about that?”
“Fine!” My voice sounded a touch shrill. “I’ve encouraged him to do it, but he feels weird about it while I’m pregnant.”
“Oh, that’s interesting,” Melissa said. “So you told him to date and he refused?”
“Refused isn’t the right word. More like, declined.” Of course, I only had his word for it. Not that I needed his word or his promise. Jason was his own person.
Just not my person.
Melissa slid a look at Sean, then back to me. “And during this conversation, did he say how he felt about you dating?”
“It was a while ago. I told him I would, if the opportunity arose, but it was more to make a point that we both could. That the pregnancy should have no impact on our dating lives.”
Sean laughed. “And let me guess, he said, ‘no way!’”
“Correct. But I credited his reaction to some recessive or not-so-recessive knuckle-dragging trait inherent in the male species. Most men would be concerned about the future mother of their child having sex with another man. We see it a lot with gastropods, a marking of sorts to limit their re-mating potential. It’s almost like he felt the need to react this way, from a biological perspective. ”
Melissa looked puzzled, though it was hard to tell if it was because of my comparison of Jason’s behavior to that of gastropods, or something else. “You thought his reaction was performative?”
“I assumed it was his id talking. Primal urges, my woman, my baby, that kind of thing. There’s not really anything substantive or intellectual underlying it.”
My mind strayed to that kiss he laid on me before I left Chicago: a typical example of Jason Isner marking his territory. It had initially annoyed me, but now I just added it to my bank of sensual memories.
Sean was looking at me strangely. “I wouldn’t be so sure. If Jason is saying he won’t sleep with anyone else, and is asking that you don’t either—”
“Then he’s trying to tell you something,” Melissa finished, at which point they turned to each other, all gooey-eyed, thrilled to be completing each other’s sentences.
Melissa went on. “Call it the id talking, primal urges, what have you. It boils down to feelings that neither of you are willing to acknowledge.”
That was months ago. We’d had sex since and neither of us had brought it up again. Neither of us wanted to know what the other person was doing.
Or maybe we were modeling our behavior on what we wished for each other.
I didn’t want him to be with anyone else.
He didn’t want me to be with anyone else.
Because we wanted to be … together?
I gave a mental headshake at the absurdity. Sure, I had hopes, but I was busy suppressing them along with my cravings for Spicy Sweet Chili Doritos.
I touched the knot of the silk scarf tied around my neck, the one Jason had bought in the Detroit hotel gift shop. When packing for Boston, I had found it. Such a pretty piece with its lovely dragonflies, it seemed a shame not to wear it on occasion.
“So he’s not dating anyone?” Melissa asked Sean, and I wanted to hug her for speaking what my mind was too afraid to verbalize.
“Not that I know of. Not since Everly.” He gestured to me. “And whatever’s happening with you.”
Everly was Jason’s last girlfriend in Boston.
They broke up a few months before he was traded to Chicago, so perhaps she didn’t want to make the move.
I hadn’t asked about her, mostly out of a desire to not appear clingy, but perhaps I should.
She might have hurt him or burned him on relationships.
I wanted to assure him that he could still find the one, even if that one didn’t look like me.
How depressing. Time for a subject change. “So, I had an interesting chat with the head of my host department today.”
Sean made a face. “Was it about slugs?”
I caught Melissa’s eye and its puckish glint. “He’s always been squeamish about my work.”
My old friend blurted, “You had wing-snails at the baby-making proposal!”
Melissa burst out laughing. “This story gets better and better.”
I waved it off. “I’m not the most conventional of women.
But apparently my strange talents have caught the attention of the powers that be at Harvard.
I’ve been invited to apply for a faculty position.
” Rather surprising, considering I had only started the lectureship a couple of weeks ago.
But my work was well-known in malacology circles.
“Here?” Sean asked.
“Yes. Of course, these things take a long time. The academic appointment process is slower than a slug making its way to leafy undergrowth, but it was a surprise to be asked.”
Melissa raised her spoon. “Why would it be a surprise? You’re here on this guest lectureship. Of course, they think you’re amazing!”
Women lifting up other women. Sean had chosen well.
My friend frowned. “But what about Jason?”
“Jason and I are not a couple. We just had a whole conversation about it at this very table.”
“But he wants to be involved in his kid’s life. And that’ll be harder if you’re here and he’s there.”
I knew that, but I had made it clear to Jason that I was ambitious and that ambition might require a change of scenery.
Now that Marcus was my department head back at Lakeshore, and insisted on micro-managing all my decisions, I questioned how much further I could rise in that environment.
I hadn’t even broached the idea of a sabbatical with him so I could work on my book.
I saw a fight for protected research time in my future.
Moving to another city would have an added benefit: not seeing Jason so much would ensure those feelings I had caught could be thrown back into the ocean. I might miss him now, but a prolonged absence would only serve to cauterize any wound.
“Jason has always known I might move somewhere else if my career demanded it. But this is just a castles-in-the-air notion right now. I’d like to have the baby first before I even think of the next steps in my career.”
But I refused to allow Jason Isner to limit me, in my professional life—or in matters of the heart.