He was in the process of getting a divorce. I was married with two teenage children. While getting his divorce, he was dating another woman; in fact, he was living with this other woman. She had blue-black hair that fell below her waist. She was pushing six feet tall and wore rings on all her fingers, including her thumbs. She wrote poetry and claimed Cherokee ancestry. I was making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, driving carpool, teaching three classes, and writing a book for tenure, having delayed graduate school to raise my children. He looked like Robert Redford with a beard; I looked like a regular person.
