Free Summer Storm by Joan Wolf Page A

It had been necessary. She was only a few years older than most of them and she was well aware of her own sexual attractiveness. But everyone at the summer school was on a first-name basis and she was here for too short a time for any of the boys to have a chance to become overly familiar. So she smiled briefly at Eric, nodded, and went on her way.
    * * * *
    Her lecture on the Elizabethan concept of tragedy went very well. The students seemed resigned to the fact that she expected them to work and a few even became quite enthusiastic in a discussion she initiated on the concept of catharsis as it applied to Shakespearean tragedy. After the class was finished they all disappeared in the direction of the theater. Mary’s lecture went from nine to ten-thirty and after that they rehearsed.
    Mary took her books back to her cottage and decided to run into town to the drugstore. Accordingly, she got into her car and headed toward the college gates. There didn’t appear to be any reporters around and she drove in a relaxed frame of mind. She did her shopping and was coming out of the store when the now-familiar flash went off. She stared for a moment in angry frustration at the man who was now approaching her.He had curly brown hair, a crooked nose, and was wearing a shirt that was halfway open, showing what Mary thought was a disgusting amount of hairy chest. She hated men who didn’t button their shirts.He trained a smile at full tooth power straight at her. “Hi,” he said ingratiatingly. “I’m Jason Razzia, free-lance writer and photographer. I’m planning an article on you and Chris, Mrs. Douglas. I wonder if I could talk to you for a few minutes.”
    “I have nothing to say to you, Mr. Razzia,” she replied coldly. “And I do not wish to have my picture taken. I would appreciate your going away and leaving me alone.”
    “Aw, come on now, it’s my livelihood, you know,” he said coaxingly. “Just a few short questions. Like is it true that you and Chris are getting back together again?”
    “No, it is not true,” she said firmly. “I wish I could make you understand that there is no story here, Mr. Razzia. Mr. Douglas and I have ended our relationship and we have no intention of resurrecting it. That is all. Good-bye. And please go away.” She walked to her car, got in and slammed the door. He took two more pictures of her before she drove away.
    Mary was seething as she drove back to school. For the past month of her life she had felt positively hunted, and it was all Kit’s fault. He could have played Hamlet out in California somewhere. Why did he have to come to Yarborough to do it?
    She worked for an hour or so in the library after lunch, looking up some material for an article she was planning on Elizabethan songbooks. As always, the academic discipline soothed her nerves and she was in a calmer frame of mind when she walked down to the waterfront later in the afternoon. Rehearsal had ended and the lawn was filled with people, some swimming, some playing volleyball and others simply soaking up the sun. Mary had her bathing suit on under a terry-cloth sundress, and when she reached the waterfront she stood to unzip the cover-up while her eyes automatically searched the area for Kit. She didn’t see him and so she dropped her dress on a chair with her sandals and towel and made for the lake.
    There were a few students stretched out on the dock as she walked out to dive off and the male eyes all regarded her approvingly. She wore a plain navy maillot suit that showed off her slender figure tastefully but unmistakably. Her skin was like magnolia petals. She pulled her black hair back on the nape of her neck and secured it with an elastic band. Then she dove into the water.
    It was cold. She came up gasping for breath, treaded water and looked around her. There were three rubber boats floating about in the water near her, two of them occupied by couples and one apparently empty. The lake was not very wide