The years suddenly flash in my mind like a filmstrip. Liv the good girl, the straight-A student, the mouse who barely dated, who kept her head down and did what she was told, who didn’t cause trouble, who was still a virgin at twenty-four. The girl who struggled for so long just to feel normal.
No. Nothing like Crystal Winter at all.
“I get it.” I have to swallow hard past the constriction in my throat. “I’ve been humiliated too. I made bad choices that backlashed in ways that almost ruined me. I had to drop out of Fieldbrook because of what happened to me. I broke right in half. And it took me a while, but I finally learned there’s no limit to the number of times you can start again.”
“Oh, please.” Crystal turns away from me and starts walking.
“There’s not even a limit for you, Crystal,” I call after her, but she doesn’t break her stride, and I don’t even know if she heard me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Dean
ve taken down all the boards covering the windows on the first floor of the house. The glass is cracked and filthy, but some sunlight and air now circulate around the rooms. Most of the furniture deserves a second look, so I’ve moved it all into the front room for later study.
I’m fixing the hinges on the front door when a car pulls up. I stop and approach, extending my hand as Max Lyons gets out of the driver’s seat.
“Thanks for stopping by,” I tell him as we shake hands. “I wanted your opinion on the building. The Historical Society is trying to have it declared a historical site, but so far they haven’t had much luck.”
“Allie told me,” Max says. “She said Liv was working on a campaign to save the house.”
“Unfortunately, it sounds like that will take more money and resources than the Society has.”
“Too bad.” Max looks up at the house. “I did a paper on this place when I was a grad student. Have a soft spot for it.”
“Is it salvageable?”
“Maybe.” He shrugs. “The Historical Society will have to do a structural analysis. It’ll take a lot of money to restore it.”
We walk around the building. Max talks about the masonry and weathering, the roof pitch, the slate shingles, the original architecture compared to later remodeling.
“Do you want me to come back and write up a report?” he asks as we return to his car. “I know a structural engineer who can do the analysis, if needed.”
“That would be great, thanks. I’m here…” Every day now “…a lot, so have them call my cell.”
He programs my number into his phone just as another car rumbles up the drive, tires digging into the dirt road.
Shit.
Kelsey comes to an abrupt halt, getting out of the car and slamming the door. Max takes a step backward. Kelsey stalks toward me, her eyes flashing behind her glasses.
I hold up my hands in defense. “You told me you were coming back on Thursday. I was going to pick you up at the airport.”
“I left the conference early to deal with a department screw-up,” she snaps. “I got a ride back with a colleague. What the fuck, Dean?”
“I wanted to tell you in person.”
“Well, I found out from the university paper.” Kelsey’s narrow gaze slants to Max. “What are you doing here?”
“Getting in the way, apparently,” Max replies.
“Then you should leave,” Kelsey says tartly.
Max gives me a look that says, Good luck with this one, buddy. Then he gets in his car and maneuvers back down the driveway.
“Kelsey, I’m sorry,” I say. “I didn’t want to tell you over the phone. I had a whole speech planned for when I picked you up at the airport.”
She crosses her arms, vibrating with anger. “So tell me now.”
“I had to resign because the Office of Judicial Affairs was investigating a sexual harassment charge against me.”
She blinks. “That’s a joke, right?”
I shake my head.
Her face drains of color. “You’re going to have to explain this in great detail.”
We sit down on one of the porch steps, and I tell her the whole story, starting with my rejection of Maggie Hamilton’s thesis proposal.
“I couldn’t tell you,” I say. “The OJA kept it confidential, and we weren’t supposed to talk to anyone about it.”
“Dean, this is totally fucked-up. You can’t resign because some little bitch lied about you.”
“I already did,” I tell her. “And it wasn’t just because of the lie. Edward Hamilton was going after Liv. I’d…”
There’s no telling what I’d do. And Kelsey knows it.
She shakes her head. “Well, shit.”
“Yeah.”
“How’s Liv?”
“Upset, but… she gets it. Hardest part was telling her and my students.”
We sit in silence for a while. A few birds chirp in the trees. Finally Kelsey squeezes my arm and shoves off the step.
“Racquetball tomorrow afternoon?” she asks. “I guess you have plenty of time on your hands now.”
I almost smile. “Yeah, sure.”