Evan Anderson the History Professor Falls Deeply in Love with Student Emily Patterson

This volume contains Ch. 1 to Ch 5 of 15 chapters in all.

Chapter 1

As a professor of history at Wyndham College, Evan Anderson enjoyed teaching the introductory
courses to the freshmen and other undergraduates as much as the seminar courses with the postgraduate
students. He knew he was a marginal salesman, but hoped his enthusiasm for his discipline
would transfer to a few of the undergrads and lead them to the major. It was during one of these large
seminar courses that he’d met his precious Emily.
It was fate, he believed, that place her in the 10:55 class on Monday, Wednesday and Friday. The
next event would be lunch. Although not shy, Evan did have some sense of professional standards.
He didn’t invite her to have a meal with him until after the mid-term exams. The pretext had been to
discuss the interesting essay she produced on colonial trade between Europe and the Western
Hemisphere. In reality, her essay produced no new information, but was well organized and quite
passably written. Evan smiled as he remembered that first date, although, officially, it wasn’t a date.
He’d begun by telling her that she seemed an unusual student with some potential for further study in
the discipline. She admitted to having taken time after her high school graduation to assist her aging
parents before enrolling six years later than most other freshmen. Evan acknowledged his preference
for students who had some seasoning in real-world experiences. They knew, he told her, that grades
were earned rather than given out based on the subjective influence of the faculty. Mentally, he
calculated the age difference and, although it spanned seven years, it was half the usual spread of
the standard freshmen women in his introductory classes.
Lunches became a regular event for the two of them and topics ranged far beyond the narrow
subject of academia. Evan was thrilled to hear she had no regular relationships. She claimed that she
had little time or interest in the drama of the typical student and infrequent contact with graduate
students who might be closer to her own age. She seemed to welcome the interest of her history
professor. Even on those days after class when no arrangement had been made, Emily waited by the
door for him as he gathered his notes, packed his briefcase, and prepared to leave. Unless a
departmental luncheon meeting intervened, Evan was always glad to accept her unspoken invitation
to their every-other day assignation.
Her face, Evan decided, was more delicate that those of the models he’d seen on various magazine
covers as he passed the checkout counter at the small grocery store that served the campus. Rather
than the harsh, angular features that seemed to be the style of the day, hers was more rounded. Her
eyes had a sparkle that consistently intrigued him. Her nose was small and belied the roundness of
her general facial appearance. The lips had a semi-permanent curl of a smile touching the corners,
with lips proportionate, neither pouty nor thin. She looked, Evan thought, natural. She had dark hair,
brown, without the insane multi-coloring that seemed to be all the fad among her younger classmates.
She usually wore it either loose, attractively draped from a slight side-parting, down across her
shoulders, or in a tight pony-tail. It was a reasonable length, he thought, quite sensible. In fact, he
mused smiling, everything about Emily seemed reasonable.
He anticipated a miserable summer session without their semi-regular meetings. The days after the
semester closed out seemed endless and exceedingly dull. He was surprised and delighted when she
arrived at his office in mid-June and tapped lightly.
“Emily!” he nearly shouted in joy. “What are you doing here? I thought you’d be taking the summer
off.”
“Come have lunch with me, Professor,” she said. “I’ll explain everything.”
She had decided to continue with a series of electives and basic courses during the summer
semester, she told him, in an effort to shorten her course of study. “It isn’t that I don’t enjoy being
here,” she said, “but I do have to get on with my life.”
“What life are you planning, Emily?” Evan asked her.
“I’m not sure, precisely,” she responded. “My parents left enough for me to finish my degree and a
little more to establish myself. I just believe I should get on with it as soon as I can.”
Their occasional lunch dates expanded to virtually daily encounters between student and mentor.
Evan recognized that the feelings he was developing for Emily went far beyond those he had
experienced in the past. He felt a sense of joy and peace whenever she was present. When she was
away he found himself befuddled and disorganized. He became increasingly aware that he not only
enjoyed having her close by, he needed her.
“Evan,” Emily said, causing him to pause with the spoonful of his white-chili soup halfway to his
mouth. In the two years they had shared their regular meeting, she had never called him by his first
name. It had always been “Professor.” He looked at her, seeing her in a new light.
“Evan,” she repeated with greater emphasis.
“Emily?” he responded, taking in the vision of the beauty seated next to him. She’d worn her hair
gathered today, the pony-tail tucked in the opening of a beige ball cap.
“It’s been two years,” she stated. “I’m not your student anymore.” It was true. Emily had declared
Business Administration as her major. It was a disappointment to Evan, but he understood. She
would, after all, probably be seeking employment in the business sector.
Evan put his spoon on the plate beneath the bowl holding his soup. “You’re right,” he said. I don’t call
you Miss Patterson. The familiar names are probably more appropriate at this juncture in our
relationship.”
“So, you recognize that we do have a relationship,” Emily said.
“Yes, of course,” he said, his heart racing a bit.
“Evan,” she said, as if testing the sound of his name coming from her lips, “I want to talk to you
about, our relationship.”
Evan’s heart began to pound as he nodded. “Very well,” he said.
“Do you love me, Evan?” she asked.
He was shocked and quite surprised with the question. “I certainly treasure our time together,” he
said carefully.
“But, do you love me?” she pressed him.
“You’re quite obviously very attractive,” he said. “I find you extremely attractive.”
Emily sighed. “That’s not what I asked you, Evan,” she said. “Do you love me?”
“You are quite dear to me, Emily,” he responded, obviously uncomfortable by the directness in her
line of questioning. She demanded he confess the innermost feelings of his heart.
Emily bridled. Evan could tell she was becoming impatient.
“It is a simple question, Evan,” she insisted.
“The ramifications are many, Emily,” he said uneasily.
“Fine,” she said. “I’ve decided what I want to do with my life, Evan. But, before I can move in that
direction, I need to know the answer to my question. So, please, just a simple yes or no. Do you love
me?”
Evan sighed, looking down at the table. The answer was clear. The confession, he knew, would
mean major changes in his own life.
“Yes, Emily,” he said, so softly that she could barely hear him. “I do love you. I have been in love with
you for some time now.”
Emily’s eyes began to sparkle even more brilliantly than usual. “I’ve known it, too, Evan. I’ve loved
you for months and months. I thought you felt the same about me, but I need to be certain.”
“You’re in love with me?” Evan asked, a little astounded at her revelation.
“Yes, I am, Evan, my dearest. That’s why I’ve decided what I want to do with my life. I want to be
your wife, Evan. I want to be married to you, to take care of you, and to love you with all of my heart.”
“But, Emily,” he said, attempting to sound reasonable, “you are so young and so beautiful. Surely
your prospects go beyond a stodgy old history professor in the cloister of academia.”
Emily laughed, her voice sounding like golden bells to Evan. “You’re neither stodgy nor old, Evan.
You are exactly what I want in a husband and life mate. You are intelligent, quite funny in your own
way, and you care so deeply. I have desperately wanted to be the one woman who is the object of
your gentle and intense affections. I have wanted you to love me for the longest time. I am so happy
to hear you finally say it.”
“And you, my dearest Emily, are so bright, so intelligent, so beautiful and engaging,” Evan said,
emptying his heart of the feelings he’d held so tightly under control for so long. “How could I not fall in
love with you? I have been bereft when we’ve been apart, unable to concentrate on anything, and
constantly thinking of you and how dear you are to me.”
She reached for his hand. He was amazed at how warm and soft it felt in his own. He realized that
this was the first time they had actually touched one another in the long months of being together.
“I am yours, Evan Anderson,” she said, “to have and to hold forever. Please let me love you and be
with you from now until you tire of me.”
“I will never tire of you, my darling Emily,” he told her earnestly. “You will be my love and my life from
this day forward. All that you need and want will be yours as I am able to provide it.”
“All I want, dearest Evan, is for you to love me as I love you, completely, totally, insanely. As I am
able, I will never be far from you, and will hold you fast in my heart and my mind,” Emily said, tears of
joy breaking loose from her sparkling eyes and easing down her cheeks.
Evan looked at her for a long moment, reveling in the joy, beauty, and devotion of his newly declared
love.
He had been correct in the assumptions that his life would change. Emily insisted that she surrender
her small apartment and that they would share a small house near the campus. Though he protested
his lack of interest in any particular dwelling as long as she was happy, she dragged him through the
process of finding exactly the right house for the two of them. It turned out to be a two-bedroom, two
story structure. The second bedroom, Emily decided, would be his study. The kitchen was small but
efficiently laid out. There was a dining room off the great room that would comfortably seat six so that
he could entertain the dean of his college or two fellow faculty families if he desired. Emily assured
him she would become the perfect faculty wife, attending the various functions on his arm and
graciously providing for small gatherings as her husband thought advisable. The yard was small, but
the back yard held a spacious patio and deck for larger gatherings during the summer months.
She furnished the bedroom with a dark wood bedstead replete with sturdy columns nearly as tall as
she was. She made him test a variety of mattresses until they found one that was firm enough to
support them, but soft enough for comfort. She selected a matching bureau and chest of drawers and
one easy chair. The bedroom featured a split closet. “Your suits will go here,” she said, indicating one
side, “and my clothes will fit nicely in here.” Evan reveled watching her joyfully go about the process
of making them a home.
They agreed to be married in the campus chapel in the Spring. It would be a small, late morning
affair. The invited guests were Evan’s dean and his wife, the chairman of his department and his
spouse, and one or two of his colleagues. Emily asked the wife of dean of the business college to
serve as her matron of honor and two of her classmates to be bridesmaids. Rather than a gown,
Emily selected a simple white dress with matching shoes. She insisted Evan wear a tuxedo, that he
select a best man and at least two ushers to accompany the bridesmaids. The reception was held on
the patio of their new home, and was a simply catered event with hors d’oeuvres and a variety of
wines, including champagne.
The cost of all this would have been staggering if Evan had not lived such a meager existence before
meeting his new wife. As it was, he had substantial savings which easily absorbed the cost of the
wedding, as well as the furnishings and supplies Emily purchased for their house. She maintained
that her needs were simple and that once the initial costs were handled, that she and Evan would be
quite comfortable and parsimonious in their daily lives. Evan smiled wanly, wrote the checks, and
watched joyfully as his wife distributed the funds as carefully and frugally as if they were down to their
last few dollars.
“I didn’t marry you for your money, Evan,” she reminded him. “I married you because I love you.”
For his part, Evan was astounded at her business acumen. She seemed to make it all come together
with elegance and style that would indicate a much more liberal application of funds. He had to
acknowledge that Emily had excellent taste, an eye for the attractive, and a remarkable ability to
organize and arrange that far exceeded his own. As he watched her, he loved her even more deeply
and with unbounded devotion.
The physical element in their relationship was extremely limited. “We’re adults,” Emily told him. “We
can restrain ourselves until the proper time.” Toward that end, they limited physical contact to the
holding of hands and the occasional kiss. They held each other only briefly, yet constantly sought the
reassuring contact of hand-in-hand whenever they were together.
The wedding night was as spectacular as the months of restraint promised. The guests had all
departed by seven o’clock. Evan helped Emily cleaning up the patio once the caterers had removed
their serving trays and additional tables. They loaded the dishwasher with the odd assortment of
articles left behind by their guests.
“Are you happy, Evan?” Emily asked him.
He nodded and smiled at her. “Yes, my dear. I am at home with the wife of my dreams and the love
of my life. I’m quite happy. Are you?”
She put her hands on his shoulders. “Soon,” she said. “If you’ll let me, I’ll go get ready for bed. Come
up in about fifteen minutes and bring me a half a glass of the white wine” she ordered, “and we will
make the months of waiting worthwhile.”
He nodded gently and leaned forward to kiss her. She returned the kiss more warmly than he had
experienced.
“This will be wonderful,” she promised, “for you and for me.”
She twirled out of his arms and nearly ran toward the stairway to the second story of the house.
Evan poured himself a half a glass of the dark wine. He didn’t know what it was, but it seemed to lack
the acidic bite of the white. It was mellow. That matched his mood, he thought. He selected a book
from the shelf Emily stocked for him in the living room and pretended to read. His thoughts kept
drifting to the vision of his bride, as lovely as he’d ever seen her. He mused over the past two-and-ahalf
years, thinking back to the first time he noticed her. He remembered thinking how lovely she
appeared. He was not surprised to find that she was older than the other freshmen in the class. She
was a woman among girls.
He reached for the tie still fastened on his neck and pulled at one of

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THE END