November and December of that fall semester had passed without incident and the Christmas holidays were fast approaching. Don had opted to remain on campus over the holidays. The new semester started mid-January. Not feeling like he fit in at the seminary, or back home anymore, Don wondered if he would fit in anywhere. Trying to focus on the positive, or at least the constructive, Don decided in preparation for two of his spring semester’s courses, Philosophy of Religion and Systematic Theology, to buy the textbooks for the courses and start reading them.
A small minority of students, mostly international students, also remained on campus over the break. Tom’s grandparents had invited Don over for Christmas dinner. He felt some guilt over leaving his father alone during the holidays, but took comfort in the fact that even if he had been with his father, they would have interacted very little. His father’s primary focus would be, as usual, the TV and the beer he would be guzzling. Don had run into Wendy numerous times on campus: at the library, in the cafeteria, walking across the quadrangle. She always seemed to be open to talking with him, but did so in a slightly flirty teasing way that seemed to show interest in Don while keeping him at a distance at the same time. Don resolved to ask her out on a date to test the matter, but before he could work up the courage, she always, perhaps sensing his next move, hinted that she was in a rush to get somewhere. Still he felt strongly attracted to her and rationalized that her academic drive and discipline left her little time to invest in any relationship.
The break went by quickly. Don had gone to the university bookstore and bought a few best-selling historical biographies. He ended up, for the most part, reading them in place of the textbooks for his upcoming classes in theology and philosophy. The break had become a time to indulge his introverted side, which, coupled with his increasing tendency to withdraw since the accident, made for even longer periods where he either watched TV or read. At one point he was watching the serial TV drama Dallas in the first-floor student lounge when three Eastern Orthodox students from Eastern Europe came in and joined him. They had full beards, wore conical black hats, and long flowing black gowns. Their laughing, friendly manner put Don at ease. Though their thick accents made it difficult for Don to understand much of what they said, he had no trouble understanding them when in a burst of laughter, they would turn to Don and say, pointing at the TV, “This is JR.”
Don had also run into what appeared to be one very quiet young Asian woman in the library vending room, whose vending machines offered coffee, as well as an assortment of snacks. The room also had a number of small tables, with chairs around them, where students taking a break could sit. The young woman always seemed to be sitting by herself and seemed to interact with other students even less than himself. Don had said hello to her as he waited behind her to put money into the coffee machine. He had slowly become a coffee addict during his first year at the community college, and was drinking up to six or seven cups a day. After saying hello to her he had joked about his addiction. She had flashed a shy smile his way as she glanced back at him. At the time Don assumed she was an international student. She must know English, Don told himself, or she wouldn’t have been able to study at the seminary, but maybe, he speculated, she has low confidence in her ability to speak it fluently, or a thick accent makes her hard to understand.
With fewer students on campus during the break, particularly at the library and in the vending room, Don had taken more notice of her. She always seemed to be by herself, but Don had been reluctant to initiate any further contact given what he had assumed would be communication difficulties. Don had noticed that even when she sat with other students at the cafeteria, she did not seem to be engaged much in the conversations. He began to wonder if language and cultural barriers had made her feel like an outsider at the seminary. He felt a strange empathy for her despite their very different backgrounds. He would always smile and nod at her when he saw her, and she would smile back in the same shy way. Don continued to think of Wendy and hoped to find just the right future time and occasion to work up the courage to ask her out. As the holiday break passed and the new semester began new opportunities would be presenting themselves.
The Date
As Don had noticed numerous times there was something about Wendy’s teasing flirtatious manner which conveyed an interest him while at the same time kept him at a distance. Did she see him as a kind of bad boy, the only redneck on campus who somehow attracted her and repelled her at the same time. Don still hoped, however conflicted she might be, that on some level she was attracted to him. By the way she spoke and carried herself Don suspected she came from a middle- or upper-middle-class background. Her speech had none of the Southern colloquialisms he so commonly heard in many of the people he had known from more working-class backgrounds. Her tastefully casual dress made her look as if she could appear at a semiformal event, including worship, on short notice as is.
Don by contrast most often wore jeans with a shredded hole in one knee, and during the winter, a leather wool-insulated coat with a hoodie underneath. Through spring, summer, and fall, he wore a baseball cap, which he often wore backwards. This was a habit formed in high school which now had the unintended effect of making him look somewhat juvenile. When they would walk down the steps together from class, or approach each other from opposite directions on the quadrangle slowly and greet each other, the sheer contrast in their manner and appearance occasionally drew attention. Even knowing how different they were Don could not help himself, he had to make an effort to find out once and for all if Wendy had any interest in him.
One foggy morning, early in the new semester, Don was walking across the quadrangle toward the cafeteria and spotted Wendy walking with another young woman ahead of him on the sidewalk. He walked quietly behind them, so as not to draw attention, without a plan in his head of what he would say. As the young women approached the steps to the cafeteria building Don impulsively called out to her, “Wendy, wait up.” Wendy, looking mildly startled, turned around and seeing Don smiled, but not quite as warmly as she usually had. She then whispered something to her companion, and the other girl headed up the stairs into the cafeteria by herself.
Wendy appeared to wait patiently, but with a certain lack of anticipation, as Don approached. “Good morning,” Don said as he greeted her. “Good morning, Don,” she said with her usual polite pleasant Southern drawl. Don drew a deep breath and took the plunge. “Wendy, we keep running into each other, and seem to hit it off.” As Don spoke these words, he thought to himself surely there must be a better way to get out what he was trying to say. Don plowed ahead, “Anyway, I wondered if we could grab a bite in town, and maybe catch a movie afterword sometime?” There, Don had said it, done it, for better or worse. Wendy gave him a serious searching look for a few seconds, but for what seemed to Don like forever. She then said, “Sure, I guess that would be okay.” Although Don was relieved, there was something about her response