A Brilliant Mind

He heard her laugh then say, "Well, I do have red hair although it's more of a strawberry blonde. Oh, and that really is my natural color, just in case you were wondering." He heard her laugh politely then she said, "I recognize your voice so yes, that would be me. Sorry, I should probably at least tell you my name after forgetting to introduce myself yesterday. I'm Monica Quinn."

"Aha! I knew it," he said without saying what 'it' might be.

"You did?" she asked.

"Monica is one of my all-time favorite names for a woman. It's a beautiful name so it only makes sense it would be yours."

"Oh, there you go again. Handsome, funny, and charming. Again, you girlfriend is very lucky. So...did you decide what you'd like me to teach?"

He gave her the three dances Liz told him to request and she said that was just fine. There was a long pause before she said, "Is there anything else, Mr. Bingham?"

"It's doc..."

"What's that?" she asked.

"Oh, sorry. Never mind. That wasn't important. No, nothing else, Ms. Quinn. It was very nice talking to you again."

"Same here, Mr. Bingham. So I'll see you and your lady friend tomorrow evening?"

"Yes. Seven o'clock, right?"

"Yes. Seven o'clock. See you then."

When Tanner asked Liz if she was ready to go the next day, she said, "Go where?"

"Um...dance lessons. Where else?"

"What? Why would I go with you, Tanner? How are you going to sweep me off my feet if I have images of you stumbling around the dance floor while learning? I thought I made that pretty clear."

"You said you didn't want to teach me. I just assumed you'd want to be my partner to help me learn."

"Scientifically speaking, you're perhaps the most brilliant man on earth and yet you couldn't figure that out. Hmmm. Maybe I was wrong about you."

Liz was smiling and evidently joking, but those warning bells started clanging loudly again inside his brain.

"Oh, okay," he said. "I'm not sure how this will work without a partner, but I guess I'll find out shortly."

He went to kiss her goodbye, but Liz turned her head and accepted his kiss on the cheek. Another warning bell or was he maybe reading too much into it?

He showed up right on time prompting Monica to ask, "Where's your partner? You spent extra money for a private lesson and you show up alone?"

Tanner gave her a quirky kind of look and said, "Well, you see, that's gonna be a problem."

He explained what was going on and Monica said, "Oh, okay. Your learning how to dance for her is a...no-surprise kind of surprise?"

"Um...yeah. I guess that about sums it up," he said wryly.

"Well, okay then. I guess you and I are about to become very...close." She smiled at him then explained. "Physically close."

She realized how that sounded then started laughing. "Maybe I should stop talking and we should just get started."

By the end of the hour, Bingham found himself loving the simple complexity (or complex simplicity?) of ballroom dancing. The timing had a mathematical element to him he'd never noticed before. By turning the steps into various mathematical expressions, he found himself able to instantly memorize each required movement.

"I don't think I've ever had someone pick this up so fast in all the years I've been teaching," Monica told him. "Have you really never danced before?"

"Never," he told her. "I've been to high school dances, but I've never actually danced."

"Then I'm truly impressed, Mr. Bingham. You not only have a beautiful face you also have a beautiful mind." She smiled then said, "Have you seen that movie, by any chance? You know, with Russell Crowe?"

"I have," he told her. "John Forbes Nash was a brilliant mathematician who made an astonishing discovery early in his career. He was on the brink of international acclaim when the problems depicted in the movie began to tear him apart."

"I can't imagine being that smart. I'm not sure whether it would be a blessing or a curse." She smiled again then said, "That's something average people like you and me don't have to worry about, right?"

Bingham managed to smile and laugh along with her as he replied. "Exactly. Life throws enough challenges at us along the way without having to worry about being so brilliant we lose our grasp of reality."

"I believe we all make our mark on history in some way, Mr. Bingham. The world won't remember Monica Quinn or Tanner Bingham for anything like Mr. Forbes, but that doesn't mean our impact can't be equally as great, don't you think?"

"You're a very interesting woman, Mrs. Quinn. And quite beautiful, if I may say so."

Her eyes sparkled as she said, "Thank you, Mr. Bingham, and yes, you may say so at any time." She stood there looking at him for a moment then said, "It also seems to me that the greatest gifts we have to give are our time and our love. That's not to say advances in fields like medicine aren't important, it's just that well, the one thing each one of us can give is...inside each one of us."

Before he could respond, Monica went around to the other side of the counter then said, "So...what day works for your next visit?"

They agreed on the day after tomorrow at the same time before Bingham thanked her again—for her time—and said goodbye.

When Bingham recounted his 'success story', Liz was duly impressed. "You may indeed just manage to sweep me off my feet, Dr. Bingham," she told him playfully the following day during lunch.

She was friendly and yes, even a bit playful, yet whatever it was that was bothering Bingham about Liz wouldn't go away. He'd gone to hold hands with her on the way back to class when she pulled away before saying, "Sorry, can't be seen doing that in uniform," even though he'd held her hand several times when she was wearing it. He let it pass still wondering if there was something she wasn't telling him.

The following day, Liz wasn't in class and that was not only unusual, it was a serious issue. Unlike civilian students who could attend or skip class on a whim, active-duty military students were required to attend class as that was their assigned place of duty. This presented a dilemma for Bingham. Were he to report her she could get in very serious trouble. Were he not to and had something happened, he would be responsible for not saying something as soon as he knew.

Not being in the military or subject to its rules, he knew he couldn't 'get into trouble', whatever that meant, for failing to say something. Instead, he waited until class was over then tried to call her. It went straight to voicemail so he sent her a short text: "Missed you in class today. Is everything okay?"

He got an answer back that read: "Sorry for not letting you know. Yes, everything is very okay."

Again, he couldn't help reading into her reply. Why did she used the adverb 'very'? What did that imply? Things tended to be either 'okay' or 'not okay.' What did 'very okay' mean?

He filed it for the rest of the day and found himself very much looking forward to his next dance lesson and showed up a few minutes early. Bingham was able to watch a small group of girls finish up a ballet lesson and no surprise, Monica was as friendly and charming with them as she'd been with him in a one-on-one, adult relationship. She dismissed the girls after thanking them for their hard work then turned around and saw Tanner.

"Mr. Bingham! Right on time, as usual, I see! Give me just a quick moment to get some water and I'll be right with you."

"Take your time, please. I'm in no hurry." And he wasn't. There was no need to be when simply watching Monica walk around in her ballet outfit was its own reward. She was wearing a black leotard kind of body suit with pink leg warmers and pink ballerina sweater. To say she looked beautiful was an understatement in the extreme. The word 'sexy' came to mind as Bingham watched her bend over to pick her water bottle up off the floor.

She took a long drink then said, "Okay, I believe you're next."

They spent less than ten minutes reviewing the step she'd taught him the first time before saying, "Your retention is nothing short of amazing, Mr. Bingham. All I can say is I've never seen anything quite like it before."

They spent the remainder of their time learning the second step during which, Bingham found himself chest to chest and cheek to cheek with Monica time after time. Her beauty was so distracting that at one point, he lost all track of what they were doing and got his feet tangled with hers. She tried to move out of his way, but he grabbed her to try and keep from falling and ending up pulling her down with him.

Fortunately, he went down first and landed on his back with Monica on top of him. He looked up at her and said, "Um...hello there."

She laughed loudly and smiled at him but didn't move. "So you are human after all!" she said playfully.

"Are you okay?" he finally asked remembering his manners and wondering if she was.

"You broke my fall," she told him. "The real question is...are you okay?"

"Me? Oh, I'm just fine. After all, I'm looking up at a very beautiful woman so how could I not be?"

Monica smiled but still hadn't moved. Their eyes were momentarily locked and for the briefest of moments there was this...feeling. Suddenly, she lifted herself up and said, "Okay, let's try going back to where we were before the um...Crash of 2016."

Bingham forced himself to think logically and mathematically the rest of their time together and refused to look directly at her. He 'stared through her' anytime she got dangerously close.

"With the exception of that one little tumble, I'd say that was another one for the record books, Mr. Bingham. You are a very talented and dare I say...interesting...young man. And I swear I know you from somewhere. One of these days, it's going to come to me," she told him.

"We have one more go-'round. What day looks good for you?" she asked just before he got ready to leave.

"Valentine's Day is sneaking up on us quickly," he told her as they agreed on their final meeting time.

"Indeed," she said. "I have to tell you I'm a bit envious of this lady friend of yours. The Post-graduate School dance is one of the most splendid social events in our community." She smiled and said, "You don't know a handsome Navy officer closer to my age who needs a date do you?"

Bingham laughed and said, "I find it hard to imagine a woman as beautiful as you has a hard time getting dates."

She didn't stop smiling, but the smile changed. "Getting asked isn't all that difficult," she said. "Getting asked by the right person is the more challenging aspect. Then again, it's only been two years since my husband passed away so..."

"This won't change anything, and I'm sure I'm not the right kind of person for many reasons, but I would most definitely be asking you were circumstances different."

Her full smile returned and Monica said, "Oh! You just absolutely made my entire day, Mr. Bingham." She gave him a quick hug then said, "You have no idea how nice that was to hear." She hesitated then said, "While it may not change anything, I can assure you, you are very much the right kind of person, Mr. Bingham. A little too young but definitely the right kind of man."

Bingham studied her eyes as she spoke and again he could almost feel something between them. He could mathematically describe a scalar field such as temperature or pressure, and he was visualizing a 'field' of some sort which connected or surrounded them; a field no one else could see or experience but them—or maybe just him.

"Would you please call me Tanner?" he asked not sure where the words came from.

"Of course. I love unusual names," she said. "My late husband was named Garrett, a name I'd never heard before I met him but which is now rather common. Okay. Tanner it is, but only if you'll call me Monica."

"I agree to do just that...Monica," he told her unable to stop smiling at her. He continued looking at her and finally she asked if he needed something else. "It's none of my business, but do you really not have a date for Valentine's Day?"

"No, no date. At least not yet. Then again, that's quite all right as I've only recently started dating again. I've been out a handful of times this past six months of so. Besides, there will be other Valentine's Days, Tanner. One day, I won't have to spend it alone. Until then, I have my work and my friends."

"Well, thank you again, Monica. I guess I'll see you on Monday then?"

"Yes indeed, Tanner. I look forward to it. Have a nice evening."

The next day was Friday and Liz was back in class. She'd slipped in just seconds before class started and tried to slip out just as quickly when it ended.

"Lieutenant Rafferty?" he called out as his students headed toward the door.

She stopped in her tracks but didn't turn around. Once everyone else had left, Bingham said, "Liz? Is everything okay? Are...we okay?"

She turned around slowly but didn't look at him. "Do we need to talk?" he asked in a calm, even tone.

"Yes," she said quietly. "Do you want to get a cup of coffee?"

He paid for both cups, handed one to Liz then followed her to an empty table. She sat down then took a small sip.

"This is bad, isn't it?" he said with no malice in his voice.

"Tanner...I'm so sorry," she began. For the next couple of minutes she explained how her former fiancee, a Navy Lieutenant Commander, had asked to see her. "That's where I was when I missed class," she explained. "We've been talking recently. Texting, the occasional phone call."

By the time she was done, she told him her former fiancee had apologized profusely. "He cried, Tanner. Then he begged me to forgive him. He told me he still loves me and that he always will. We talked for several hours non-stop hashing out everything that happened and why. And in the end..."

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a large diamond ring. "I was too afraid to wear it to class today," she told him as she placed on her finger. "He asked me to forgive him and if I would still marry him."

She saw the hurt and shock in his eyes and said, "Tanner, I am so, so sorry. I really do like you—a lot. I may even love you at some level, but I never stopped loving him. I can't ask you to forgive me. All I can do is tell you how very sorry I am."

Bingham somehow kept it together and said, "You don't have to ask, Liz. I already forgave you. I...I knew something wasn't right. I just couldn't put my finger on it. But now? It all makes sense."

"I never meant to hurt you. I swear." He could tell by her eyes she was telling the truth. "You really are amazing. Were it not for him..."

"I understand," Bingham told him. "I'm actually very flattered. You're pretty amazing yourself, Lieutenant. He's a very lucky guy. Oh, in case you want to know, it's completely fine with me if he takes you to the big shindig on Valentine's Day."

Liz laughed at the word 'shindig.' "You are such a nice man, Tanner. Your considerable brilliance in physics aside, you're really a wonderful person on so many levels. You're funny and pleasant and caring and you're pretty damn gorgeous, too. Don't think I haven't wondered about...you know. Again, if it wasn't for having never really gotten over Dan...my fiancee...who knows?" She put her hand on his then said, "Thank you for being so understanding. I literally felt sick about having to face you. You have every right to hate me and call me—well, pretty much anything, and I'd have it coming. And thank you for learning to dance even though I won't be the beneficiary of your efforts. That was the sweetest thing of all."

She pulled her hand back then said, "I guess I should be going."

"Me, too," he told her. "If you do end up going to the dance, can you maybe save one for me?"

"Are you still going to go?" she asked hopefully.

"I don't know," he told her honestly. "I guess that depends on whether or not I really am the right kind of person."

Liz laughed and said, "That made no sense to me, but you think on a higher plane than the rest of us so I'll trust it made sense to you."

She stood up so Bingham did, too. "Would it be okay to give you a hug?" she asked.

"I'd like that," Bingham told her. Liz put her arms around him and held him for a few seconds before letting him go.

"So...I guess I'll see around then, Dr. Bingham."

"Yes, you will, Lieutenant Rafferty. Take care, okay?"

"You, too. Well...goodbye then."

Bingham stood there and watch her walk away grateful to have known her and to finally know the truth. The only other question he had was should he wait until Monday or ask her today?

His normally nimble mind was locked in a hopeless battle as he tried to make what should be a very simple decision. On the one hand, waiting might mean someone else asking her first. On the other, driving there immediately seemed rather silly. Had she only been saying something polite by telling him he was the 'right kind of person', he knew he wouldn't want to go back for his final lesson on Monday. By waiting, he could at least see her again and depending on the particular dance she'd be teaching him, he could also hold her—even if it was for the last time.

In the end, indecision won out and Bingham found himself spending another weekend alone with his mother. She of course, was grateful for his company and he knew that at some point in the not-too-distant future, he'd be leaving. Overall, waiting seemed like a reasonable and rational decision.

"Tanner? Why do you keep looking at your watch every few minutes?" she asked after he'd done it for maybe the tenth time.

"Sorry, Mom. I've got a lot on my mind." She knew a little bit about some girl named Liz, but he hadn't shared details. The good news was he didn't have to explain how he'd essentially been dumped again already just since his arrival back in town.

"Why don't you call her?" she finally said assuming Liz was the reason he was so restless.

Against his better judgment he said, "It isn't Liz, Mom."

"Oh. Okay. Is everything okay with you two?" she asked innocently.

"We um, kind of came to a mutual understanding."

"I take it that means you're no longer seeing her?"

"It's for the best," he said not offering any information. "But there is someone else."

She sat down next to him and said, "Care to tell me about her?"

"Only if you promise not to laugh...or criticize," he said with a kind of wry smile.

"Hmmm. Would this new woman possibly be...a married woman?" she asked probingly.

"Married? No. No way," he told her.

"Well, then I can't think of any reason why I'd criticize you or even laugh." She paused then said, "Please tell me she's at least 18. No...make that 21. She is, isn't she?"

Bingham had to laugh. "Oh, she's definitely over 18, Mom. And 21."

"Okay...so? What's the problem?"

He spilled his guts and told her everything about Monica. Everything to include the 'scalar field' surrounding her.

"Oh, my. How old did you say she was again?" was her only question.

"I didn't. I didn't say because I don't know. But she has to be at least 35...ish?"

"I see," she said searching for some way to sound supportive. "Well, your father was eight years older than me, you know." It was the only thing she could come up with and Bingham knew she was having a hard time understanding. In fact, she blurted out, "Tanner, you're so handsome! I don't know why you'd settle for a woman who's closer to my age than yours. What is it that has you thinking like this?"

His mother was 47 so he wasn't sure whether or not her statement was accurate, but the point was well taken.

"I don't know, Mom. I honestly don't know. All I do know is whenever I'm around her it's...electric." He looked over at her and what he mostly saw was concern and confusion mixed with love and understanding.

"Well, sometimes love doesn't make sense," she said and not another word was spoken on the subject.