A Momentous Decision Read online

someday this week."

  Somehow, she didn't seem shocked. Could it be that she didn't know I was married? That was possible. I had not worn a wedding ring for a couple of years.

  "That would be very nice," came the voice on the other end. "How does this Friday sound?"

  Friday sounded very good to me. I couldn't believe that I had pulled it off. Somehow, I had managed to ask a young woman for a date and she had accepted. I deemed it a major accomplishment.

  Friday arrived, and I put on my best suit, a blue one, and a matching tie. Whether Kathleen, who was always up as I prepared for work, wondered about this. She made no comment.

  During the noontime, I picked up my car at the parking lot (the black Cadillac, of course) and drove to her building. In a moment or two, Susan came out of the door looking lovely in beige. I helped her into the car.

  As we drove down the boulevard, Susan said, "That's a very nice suit your wearing and the tie matches perfectly. Tell me, who helps you with your clothes?"

  "I guess the wife does," I admitted hesitatingly. So there it was! Now she knew that I was married. Would it make any difference? My response to her question seemed to have had no immediate effect

  "Where shall we go for lunch?" I asked.

  "Anywhere is fine," she said. Somehow, it had not occurred to me during the week that it might have been a good idea to have decided ahead of time where to go -- and possibly, to have made reservations.

  "Normally, I drink my lunch," Susan added. This seemed a strange remark. Was this young woman a heavy drinker? I wondered. Did she want me to take her to a place where drinks were served?

  I was a light drinker and was not familiar with drinking places. My driving became aimless. "Would you like to go somewhere to have a drink?" I asked.

  "No, I was just kidding. Let's go to Sherman Park." Now that was more my speed. At least, I did know where the park was. It took only a few minutes to get there and we found a parking place next to a rail fence. I stopped the car and turned in my seat slightly so that I was facing Susan.

  "I'm divorced," Susan began it was an emotionless remark. "My husband and I are still very friendly."

  It struck me as curious that she had used the word husband instead of former husband.

  Normally, I listen more than I talk. Therefore, as Susan spoke, my only comments were "uh huh" now and then, or "is that so?"

  Susan had had a wonderful man as a husband, she told me. His name was Vernon. They had been married since she was sixteen. Susan was thirty-four now. There were two daughters -- Sheila and Teresa. Sheila was fifteen and Teresa was ten. A coincidence was the fact that Susan's birthday and that of my daughter, Dorothy, were on the same date, -- August first.

  One of the men that Susan had known since she was separated was named Jimmy. Susan didn't say what Jimmy's last name was. It seems that Jimmy came from a very wealthy family. As a joke, at a card game one day, Jimmy had offered to give Susan a diamond ring that had as many diamonds in it as Susan had years in her life. She had accepted.

  Susan showed me the ring that she wore on the ring finger of her left hand. It was gigantic with diamonds superimposed upon diamonds. The most descriptive word that I could think of to characterize it was monstrosity. I did not verbalize this description.

  "That was a funny kind of joke," I commented "no pun intended."

  "Yes, but you've got to remember that Jimmy comes from a very wealthy family. His parents own a ranch where they raise horses. Probably, to him, a ring with thirty-four diamonds on it has about the same value as five dollars would have to an ordinary person." It sounded plausible, but I didn't completely buy the story.

  Susan continued that she was estranged from her entire family. She said that she preferred the relationship this way since the members of her family were of a lower class that she. Besides they just could not understand the fact that Susan went with doctors, lawyers, business men of various kinds and others in the professions. I felt flattered that Susan had consented to go out with me. Could it be that she considered my status to be equal to that of those she had mentioned? I had authored some textbooks that had sold all over the world, and which had been translated in various languages. Upon reflection, I convinced myself that an author was a person with as much status as a doctor or lawyer.

  Susan did most of the talking; I, most of the listening. Shortly after one o'clock, we decided it was time to go back to work. About ten minutes later, both of us were back at our desks.

  Susan was a most unusual person, I pondered. There was much that was strange about her, and there was much that was unusual about the things that she had told me. I wasn't quite sure what to make of it all but decided that I wanted to be with her and talk to her again.

  That evening, after dinner, I decided to have an important chat with myself. What was I doing? I was on the track of being unfaithful to Kathleen. Was this me? I had always felt that being faithful to a wife should be a given in any marriage. This encounter with Susan had not been a good example of my keeping that conviction.

  I questioned why Susan had introduced herself to me the way she had. I was an instructor, and instructors should not have unprofessional relationships with students. In having gone out with Susan, I had violated this important tenet.

  An unfaithful relationship could only result in pain to Kathleen, my children, and my mother. What kind of person would I be, if this consequence was not important to me?

  I had to make a decision. The time for it was now. Too much had already occurred that should not have.

  The next day was a Saturday. I went into the den at home and dialed her home number. "Susan," I said, "I enjoyed my conversation with you yesterday. Last night I had a long conversation with myself, and found myself to be less than a decent human being. I don't believe I have to tell you why. From this point, our relationship, yours and mine, will be strictly as student and teacher. That would be the only way that I would be able to live with myself. I'm making this call is to tell you this."

  "But, . . ." She began and was silent for a long time. Finally, she asked, "Are you sure you want it this way?"

  "Yes."

  "I understand," she said. "That's the way that it will be."

  I had made one of the most important decisions in my life, and I never regretted it.