Regardless of how comical the whole situation sounds, I can’t have someone come home with me. I can’t have a shadow while Mollie tells me the dirty tales from her dorm, or while I discuss my own very savory thoughts about men around campus, or my general critical thinking around the rules, the classes, or—God help me—the Bible.
Roland holds up his hand. “So far during her time at Carter University, Kennedy has endured slander by a dorm mate, intense scrutiny and national attention, and unfair treatment from at least one of her professors.” My mouth falls open as Roland talks. I don’t know how he knows about Professor Towne, but in this moment I’m grateful. “As far as I can tell, if she chose to walk away at the end of this semester and attend another school, what would she have to say about Carter and how the love of Christ was bestowed on her?”
My eyes sting with tears brewing from an unfamiliar emotion toward Roland. Not only is he sticking up for me right now, but he’s been paying attention—detailed attention—all along. He’s been watching over me and I haven’t known. As unsettled as this may have once made me feel, it does something much more to my heart in this moment.
Dean Baker lips. “Pastor Abbot, rules are rules. Kennedy has been lax in her mid-week church attendance, has had a handful of foul-language demerits, and now there’s talk about her attending parties she has no business attending. If this were any other student, we would be offering the same pastoral care. Shepherding.”
Roland opens his mouth, but I cut in. “Can I choose my chaperone? I don’t want just anyone hanging out in my house.”
Roland looks concerned, as if I’m waving a flag he wishes I didn’t possess. But, I have a plan.
Dean Baker shakes his head. “There is a select few upperclassmen with the privileges to shepherd.”
“Is Maggie one of them?” I ask about my RA.
“Yes. But, unfortunately, she’s going on a missions trip.”
Liar, she’s going to Seattle to visit with her sister’s family. You just want me caught. You’re digging, and I’m going to steal your shovel.
Taking a deep breath, I quickly scan my options. Dean Baker isn’t bluffing. In fact, he’s so sure that he’s got me that I can still see the mouse tail wiggling from his lips. He knows one of three things will happen if he sends this shepherd home with me on break: 1. I’ll screw up and he can nail me to the wall. 2. I’ll be buckled into submission, behaving as he wants me to for the sake of not wanting to make waves. Or. 3. I’ll quit. Leave. Making his life a hell of a lot easier by his assumptions. Right now, none of those are options for me; I look to Roland who, frankly, looks quite defeated.
Looking back at Dean Baker, I place my hand over Roland’s. It’s sweating. Offering the best pageant smile I can come up with, I take another breath. “There isn’t even any need for all of this, Dean Baker,” I coo, placating. “I’m spending the entire break with Roland and his parents—my grandparents.”
I squeeze Roland’s hand, begging him not to react. He squeezes back. My eyes stay cemented on Dean Baker.
What now?
“This true, Pastor Abbot?” Baker leans back in his chair.
Roland nods. “Of course, sir. Hence my confusion regarding the whole shepherding business. I guess we both assumed the other had information neither of us had.”
Dean Baker nods slowly. “You’ve got quite the travel schedule the second and third weeks of January.”
“She’ll be with me the whole time. That’s been the plan the whole time, so she can see how my ministry operates across the south.”
I listen to Roland go on about his speaking engagements, happy that he’s playing along with my lie. Once we get Dean Baker off our backs, I can resume planning some ski dates with Mollie.
“Very well, then,” Dean Baker states assuredly. “I look forward to seeing you both at the family conference in Georgia in January.”
“Awesome!” I know sarcasm is a lost language among the people here, so I dial it up with Dean Baker on purpose. “I can’t wait to learn about what everyone’s doing.”
I don’t wait to be excused. Throwing my backpack on, I offer Dean Baker a small wave, and head out of the office. I assume Roland is following me, but find myself alone when I reach the small waiting area. Thankfully, the work-study student is immersed in computer work, so I can press my ear against the door to eavesdrop without judgment.
“I don’t have to underscore, Pastor Abbot, the serious nature of these allegations against yo daughter.” Dean Baker’s voice isn’t any different when addressing Roland than it’s ever been when he’s spoken to me.
Roland’s voice, too, is unchanged. Calm, if not slightly peppy. “And, as you’re aware, I’m also a member of this faculty and am aware of the hundreds of suspicious concerns we receive on many students. Never, to my knowledge, has anyone been assigned a shepherd after the first claim.”
I always forget that Roland is a professor here. He’s the spiritual liaison, for goodness sake. I see him with students at the coffee shop all the time, and I’m sure he meets with them elsewhere. If he wasn’t my father, I’d totally love a guy like him to talk to about how insane this place can be.
You could just talk to him anyway.