“Dean? Jesus, you’re sweating.” Helen grabs a box of tissues from the mess on the floor. She hands it to me. “Okay, look. Tell me what happened.”
I do. I start at the beginning—Maggie’s nepotistic admittance to the university because of her big-donor father, her work with a professor who left King’s the year before I was hired, her plan to apply for law school, her lousy work ethic and sense of entitlement. Her anger that I wouldn’t approve her thesis.
Her suggestion that she’d do something sexual in exchange for my academic support.
“I did everything right, Helen,” I say. “Never stood too close to a female student or professor. Always kept the office door open during meetings. Never met with a student alone outside of the university. Knew all the university policies. Never made inappropriate comments or—”
“Dean.” Helen puts her hand on the desk. “I know that. So this girl hasn’t made any kind of formal charge?”
“Not yet. I’m going back for a meeting with the department chairperson and someone from the Office of Judicial Affairs. I guess he’s gathering information.”
“I’ll bet you dimes to doughnuts that the little hussy will approach you again before filing a formal charge,” Helen says.
I can’t help smiling. Helen has always been prone to using anachronistic phrases that make no sense to me.
“What does that mean, anyway?” I ask. “Dimes to doughnuts?”
“I’ll put up the same amount of dimes to your doughnuts because I know I’m right,” Helen replies. “It was a phrase coined when you could get a lot of doughnuts for a dime. I mean it, too. She’s going to come to you telling you she’ll drop the charge if you sign her proposal.”
“And so I sign the damned thing and get stuck with her for the next two or three years.”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“You put a tape recorder in your office and record the conversation, get her to implicate herself, then take the recording to the OJA and your department chair.”
“Seriously? Isn’t that illegal?”
Helen shrugs. “She’s making a false claim. That’s illegal too, I assume. Or at least against university rules. Why shouldn’t you play dirty too?”
“Not the right kind of dirty,” I mutter.
Helen shakes her head with amusement. “My guess is it won’t matter if it’s illegal or not, because once the hussy finds out what you did, she won’t make a formal accusation and you’ll be in the clear.”
“You’ll bet dimes to doughnuts on that?”
“I’ll bet my sweet bippy on that.”
“What the hell is a… never mind. I don’t think I want to know.”
Helen grins and moves away from the desk. I let out a long breath. The tightness in my chest is gone. Now there’s even a faint ray of hope.
Helen helps me clean up the mess from the floor. We put everything back on the desk. She vacuums the shattered glass and throws away the broken lamp.
“I’ll run downtown and pick up another one before your mother notices it’s missing,” she says, winding up the vacuum cleaner cord.
“Thanks.”
“No problem.”
I reach out to capture her wrist. “I mean it, Helen. Thanks. And I’m sorry for what I—”
“Yeah, you were a melodramatic asshole the other day, but in a way I can appreciate it. Nice for Liv that you’d say those things about her.” She pats my arm. “And I’ve been snarky too, I know. Keep me posted, okay?”
“I will.”
We leave the library just as Liv is coming in from the terrace.
“I was going to make some tea or coffee,” she says. “Do you want some?”
“No, thanks,” Helen replies. “I’m going to run some errands.”
“I’ll walk you out.” I fall into step beside Helen as she goes to the front door. I lower my voice. “Liv doesn’t know yet. I’m going to tell her when I get back.”
Helen’s eyebrows lift, but she nods. “Okay. My lips are sealed.”
“Wow. A phrase I understand.”
“I dumbed it down for you.”
With that, she heads toward her car.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Olivia
January 27
elen offers to drive Dean to the airport, which is fine with me since I’m not familiar with San Jose roads, and the freeways are busy and a little scary. Instead I agree to go with Joanna and Paige to the hospital again, so Dean and I part ways in the foyer.
“Love you, beauty.” He hugs me and gives my belly a discreet pat. “I’ll call as soon as I get in, okay?”
I nod. Even though he’ll be gone for less than three days, I wish he didn’t have to go at all. I’m not concerned about being alone with his family, as things have been easier than they were the last time I was here, but I don’t want to be apart from my husband these days.
I press my mouth to his, aware of Helen waiting nearby, then step out of his embrace. “Be safe.”
It’s weird that the history department is making him return for one meeting. You’d think they could either wait or let him teleconference via computer or speaker phone. I hope they’re paying for the plane ticket, at least.
I watch from the front doorstep as they get into Helen’s car and leave, then I go back upstairs to straighten up our bedroom. There’s a note on the mirror: