“But I haven’t finished my dissertation.”
Larsen blinked in surprise. He’d forgotten about this. Then he heaved a big sigh and rolled his eyes. He had deep-set farmer’s eyes surrounded by creases—such a pale shade of blue they were almost gray. Those eyes glanced up and to one side as he called upon his obstacle-dodging skills, which had never yet failed him.
An inspiration struck. He walked back to his desk and picked up the thick document: Bovine Transmission of Heavy-Metals Pollution Through the Food Chain: Recent Progress. He flipped through it, pausing to look over some of the graphs and charts, and spent a minute or so scanning the bibliography.
“This will do. It’s a contribution. Give it to Janie to put in dissertation form. We’ve got a software package to do that somewhere.”
“Excuse me, Dr. Larsen?”
“Submit it. I need you to be a Ph.D. We can have the grad school waive the deadline requirements. Ineed you now.”
Three weeks later Dr. Kevin Vandeventer, Ph.D., stepped out of the Courthouse Metro Station in Arlington, Virginia, a garment bag slung over his back and a plastic Hy-Vee grocery sack dangling from one hand. He walked down Clarendon and arrived at the Bellevue Apartments a few minutes later. He dialed his sister’s apartment and got lucky: Cassie answered the phone; the surprise was preserved. She buzzed him in.
In the elevator he pulled his Ph.D. robes, mortarboard, and hood from the grocery bag and put them on over his traveling clothes. Thus attired, he marched majestically down the hallway. Cassie was waiting for him by the door; when she got a load of his outfit, she let out a hoot and began giggling.
“What’s going on?” Betsy asked.
“Betsy, come here! You’ve got a distinguished visitor.”
Betsy came out of the bedroom and flinched involuntarily when she saw the imposing creature in the robe. When she recognized her little brother’s face, she was delighted, and when she saw the cardinal, green, and harvest-gold Ph.D. hood, she was floored. She almost knocked him over with a hug. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
He looked away awkwardly. “It happened pretty fast. How you doing, Bets?”
Tears sprang out and trailed down her face, making him feel even more awkward. “When did this happen?” She let go of him, stepped away, and caught a deep breath. “I’m so proud. Have you told the folks?”
“Thought we would call from here. They can come out for the formal hooding next month. Larsen takes about a half hour to process his people through.”
Cassie stood back wide-eyed, like a kid at Halloween who had just seen a goblin costume for the first time. “Dr. Idaho,” she said, then dropped suddenly to the floor and crawled up under his robes.
“Let me unzip this thing so you don’t suffocate,” Kevin said, awkward and unnerved. Cassie’s head popped out of the neck opening, next to Kevin’s, and the picture that Betsy saw was one that she’d remember for life.
“Stay right there,” she shouted as she ran for her little camera.
“My pleasure,” Kevin said, hugging Cassie.
Betsy came back and snapped shots from various angles. “I’m gonna make sure Dad gets an eleven-by-sixteen of this.”
Cassie began to note that Kevin was not letting go. “Well! Give a man a Ph.D. and suddenly he takes prerogatives!” she said. “Excuse me, Doc, but my people have got something about getting caught by people in robes.” Kevin let her go and she slipped out. Kevin was in a state of bliss.
“Let’s pop that bottle of champagne we bought for Betsy’s promotion,” Cassie said.
“Sounds good,” Kevin said.
“I said, for Betsy’s promotion,” Cassie said, getting a little provoked.
“Oh. You mean the fifth-year poly thing?”
“My boss got transferred out,” Betsy said, “and Cassie’s making a big deal out of the fact that I’ve been made acting branch chief.”
“Branch chief in the Company! Pretty good for a potato picker,” Kevin said tepidly. Betsy could tell her brother was a trifle deflated at losing the spotlight.
Cassie aimed the bottle through the open balcony doors and launched the cork toward the Pentagon with a satisfying explosion. She poured the Sovetskoe Champanskoe Vino into the jelly glasses—everything else was still drying in the dishwasher. “A toast to Dr. Kevin and Officer Betsy.” They drank the sweet champagne down, agreed that it was just fine, and had another round instantly.