This story has a bit of truth to it, but it did not quite happen the way I tell it below, but I can always wish, right? None of the names are true and this is totally fiction. Thanks Sunny for your suggestions!
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Retirement wasn't all it was cracked up to be! I really began to miss the day-to-day events of going to the office and inter-acting with my colleagues. A friend needed some help at the school where she taught English. The money wasn't great, but it was better than sitting on my ass at home. I began teaching a group of students that were preparing to enter universities in the states. They need to pass an English exam and needed to improve their language skills before enrolling. Additionally, wives of some of the foreign executives would enroll so it was an interesting mix of students.
After the first couple of weeks of teaching a class of teens more interested in learning about American teen-age culture, I was surprised when the director brought a lady to sit in on my class. Asrar was a beautiful Arab MILF, the wife of a diplomat. After sitting in for a day she signed up for my class.
Asrar, I learned later that her name meant secret in Arabic, always dressed very stylish. Always, in western style clothes, always the top of the rack from the best ladies stores in town. She only wore the hajib scarf over her hair and wrapped it stylishly around her neck. Only her beautiful face was exposed to the outside world. When she joined my class it was winter and she normally wore a loose sweater and wool slacks, expensive suede slip-on flats with expensive jewelry around her neck and wrists.
As a student she was the best; always on time, homework ready, and attentive in class. I learned her husband was assigned to the consul and traveled a lot for his position. She had five children the oldest, a son was a freshman in college... already the typical American.
As time went on, other opportunities popped up and I decided to take another position. I announced that I was leaving to the class, giving the students a little time to get use to the idea of a new teacher and for me to finish the term. On my last day, as the other students left the room, I noticed Asrar, was lagging back, putting her books away and fumbling with her bag. I walked out of the room and came back thinking the room would be empty. Shutting the door behind me so I could make a phone call, I realized I was not alone.
Asrar was still sitting at her desk, but she had removed the hajib, a most unusual move for an Arab lady of her age. Her hair was flowing free over her shoulders.
"How did she keep all that hair wrapped up," I thought not knowing what to say. Her hair was thick and black with a slight curl as it cascaded over her shoulder. I sat the phone down and walked to the back of the room. Asrar stood, she appeared taller than normal, but then I noticed she was wearing western pumps and a flowing skirt. As she stepped from the desk her skirt swished as she moved towards me with her hands outstretched, I took them as we embraced. The Arab mix of spices and perfume spread as I held her closer and tighter, not knowing what was going to happen next.
"I am going to miss you as my professor! It was the highlight of my day."
