Part 2 -- The Aftermath
I sat in stunned silence after Ang popped her head in saying hi and leaving with the parting, "I'm pregnant." My mind raced, how am I going to explain a 67-year-old professor getting a 19-year-old student pregnant. I thought back to our night of bliss in early May almost four months ago. Shouldn't she be showing a baby bump? What was she wearing when she dropped her bomb on me?
I checked the computer for her class schedule. Finding her name and running down her classes, I discovered she has one class the hour before mine in the same classroom. I could be early for the class and see her as she walks out. It should be easy to see if she is showing a bump.
My office is in the original building of what grew into a major state university. Most of my classes are on one of the four floors. Today, my trek took me to the third floor where I took a seat in the small commons at the hall's end. It provided a vantage point from which to see students exiting the classroom I was to occupy next.
I busied myself with notes to look occupied but my entire focus was on the clock and the classroom exit door. It wasn't long before the door opened with a crash of humanity making its way toward me. In the way I expected, Ang was laughing with another couple students. I noticed her tight stretch pants, the tight curve of her hips, her tight sweet butt, and the lack of a stomach swell.
She noticed me waiting for the classroom to empty. She broke from her group pointing my way probably saying she was going to say hi to a previous teacher.
"Hi, Dr. Hoffer. Are you here trying to get a glimpse of me?" It was a clearly knowing and very flirtation statement. "I think about you often." That sentence came out with feeling, with meaning that surprised me a little.
"To be honest, yes, I was hoping to get a glimpse of you. You left me in a state of shock earlier."
"I am sorry about that, have you thought through what I said?" Her tone was serious yet her eyes shown a hint of playfulness.
"I think we need to sit down for an honest chat. This condition has many implications." Even though I was facing a career ending predicament, I was feeling lust for her again. I wanted sex with this little Vietnamese girl.
"I can see you this weekend, Dr. Hoffer, privately at your place."
Now I saw the playfulness in her eyes dance and glimmer. I wanted to blurt out the question nagging me but refrained. I wanted to ask if she was pregnant.
"I'll leave it up to you. Send me a message when you are coming and I'll be home. I must get into class now. We'll have time to talk this weekend."
"Bye, bye, Dr. Hoffer." Ang took off down the hall to catch up with her group.
I headed to class with some angst mixed with wonder and excitement. The weekend would tell.
I had no Friday classes and decided to skip my office hours; I could answer email remotely at home. Email, I needed to search for a message from Ang. I had my tablet at the table and used it rather than my computer.
I scrolled through the list of junk the university thinks is important and saw an email address I didn't recognize. I was about to delete it when the subject line got my attention: Friday with my prof. I looked at the email address again, SEAgirl. The SEA in all caps must be South East Asia. I opened the message.
"Dear Doctor Hoffer," it began. "This is Ang. I want to make sure that you did mean for me to visit you today. I am sure you want to talk about the words I shared with you. I am also sure you don't need a reminder. Please don't be cross with me because I can explain everything. I hope you don't mind, I plan to spend the weekend with you. Please answer quickly."
The reply tab seemed to glow hot red. I knew I was going to reply; however, trepidation held me back from tapping reply. I hadn't thought about what to type when I finally did open the reply text box.
"Ang," I didn't use dear. "You are correct, we do have a lot to talk about and no reminder is necessary. I was serious about you coming here to talk although spending the weekend is not something I considered." I typed in my cell phone number adding, "Call me with a time you expect to arrive." Anxiety was building as I hit send. The animation started followed by the swoosh sound of a sent message.
The tone of my phone distracted me before I could finish pouring a second cup of coffee. It wasn't a number I recognized although I suspected it was Ang. "Hello."
"Wilson," Ang used my first name. "Can I see you now? I am so emotional for you."
"I haven't even showered yet, it isn't even 8:30 yet."
"Please," her tone was begging and needing. "I am almost at your address now. I won't cause any trouble."
"Okay," I caved. "Come right now. I'll shower after you get here."
"Thank you, I need this so much." We rang off from the call; I settled in for another coffee and a silent wait.
The wait wasn't long. I think my heart skipped a beat when the doorbell chimed. I was nervous as a teenage boy when I opened the door. Standing on my threshold was Ang holding an overnight bag. She was smiling that coy smile of hers that disarmed me and probably every other man or boy she knew.
"Hello, Ang. Come in."
"Hi, Dr. Hoffer."
"You called me Wilson on the phone, now you're being formal again."
"Asian training. Besides, you are superior to me. I felt safe on the phone."
"Do you want anything, Ang?"
She fell into the laugh I'd come to know when hearing something with a double meaning. "I want you. And maybe some toast if that's okay."
"Is that all? Aren't you eating for two?" No time like the present to jump right into the purpose of her visit to me in private.
"That didn't take long. Right into the subject."