She reached for the purse hanging on the back of her chair. There was an apple buried in there somewhere. She rooted around until she felt the smooth apple skin on her fingers, but she hesitated. Would he take the apple from her too?
She pulled a lip balm in a small yellow pot from her purse so he wouldn’t wonder what she was doing. When she turned around to replace the purse on its perch, she saw that it had begun to snow. Seeing the campus covered in snow was a surprise every year. In her imagination, the campus was always flooded with yellow light filtered through green leaves, and the snow made it look like another planet. Garber was still speaking, but Liesl turned fully around to watch the fat flakes land on the old buildings and the young students. It was so clean.
Garber’s voice rang in the back of her head as if she were wearing headphones that didn’t quite block out external sound. If she were to strain, she could hear him, but she didn’t strain. She watched the snow. She remembered then that she hadn’t planted tulips. Every fall she replanted tulips in her garden. Not content with the sparse second-year blooms that sprouted from her bulbs, she tilled and washed and dug and fertilized to guarantee the annual show of purple and red and yellow in her giant garden bed. But she’d forgotten. And now the snow was here, and she wouldn’t get the opportunity.
“Listen,” he said. “If I thought you would do it, I’d certainly factor that in.”
“It would save you some money.”
“Easy now. We’re looking for someone to agree to a seven-year term.”
She wanted to rush home and plant her tulips before the ground froze.
“You’re right that I couldn’t agree to that.”
“I know you better than you think. You’ll retire at the end of the next academic year…”
“Or when Langdon Sibley or whoever else is hired,” she said.
“After an acceptable transition period,” Garber said. “He can hardly be expected to pick up and leave Boston midway through the year.”
“I see,” she said. Delaying her departure would leave Langdon Sibley free from the stink of the stolen manuscripts, in Garber’s plan. The thefts would be Liesl’s legacy.
“So it will be Sibley?”
“If he’ll have us.”
“It sounds like you’ll make it difficult to say no.”
He walked around her desk and stood behind her. She tensed with him so close to her, not sure what to expect. But he was looking out the window at the snow.
“I shouldn’t have ridden my bike today.”
“Have you told Sibley about the thefts?”
He kept his back to her, kept looking at the snow. If she expected her question to startle him, she was disappointed. There was no reason to think he was worried about anything except cycling through the snow.
“No need to bother with all that yet,” he said.
Liesl’s phone was ringing. As a small act of rebellion as payback for the sushi, she answered it, cutting off Garber. John’s voice on the other end came as a great relief. She was happier to hear from him than she had been in a long time. She listened to the familiar voice asking if she had time for an unscheduled lunch, and she knew she didn’t; she told him to come anyway. Each act, each choice she made for herself since taking this job, even if it was just deciding to spare an hour for a lunch break, salvaged some small part of that long-forgotten Liesl, the one who’d vowed to be no man’s secretary.
“I thought you weren’t hungry,” Garber said when she got off the phone.
“I’m suddenly starving.”
“Have you got anything for lunch tomorrow?”
She searched for an excuse. Didn’t find one quickly enough.
“Good,” he said. “You can join me and Langdon.”
“I’m sure you two have plenty to discuss on your own.”
“And yet I expect you to be there.”
“I’d only be in the way.”
He didn’t care. He wanted her help with the wooing.
“You’ll be in the exact right place,” he said. “I’ll see you at noon.”
John was prompt but Liesl wasn’t. The ringing phone pulled her back to her desk at 11:59, just as she was trying to leave it, and Professor Mahmoud’s name on the display intrigued her enough to answer.
“Forty-three thousand dollars,” he said instead of hello.
“You’ve won it?” She grinned like she had personally won the lottery.
“They’re asking about shipping and insurance. I didn’t prep for this part. No one else even bid.”
Christopher entered auctions with a bang, flashing donors about to scare off other bidders. This plan had been all Liesl’s.
“Give them my contact information and I’ll arrange it all,” she said. And then they offered each other congratulations and Liesl ended the call with an unbelieving shake of the head.
John was waiting for her by the elevator. He had on a white button-down shirt. He had ironed it.
“Do you have a hot date after this?” Liesl asked.
He looked so very happy to see her.
“A hot date with a librarian,” he said. “Can you believe my luck? I’m meant to meet her right here at the entrance to this library. I’m told she has sea-blue eyes and that she blushes to the most delightful shade of pink when she’s embarrassed. Have you seen her?”
And she was happy to see him.
“It snowed,” she said. “We’ll have to go somewhere close by.”
“I’ve packed you some mittens. So not so terribly close by.”
“Well,” she said. “You’ve thought of everything.”
“You run and grab your coat,” he said. “And we’ll be on your way.”
“I haven’t brought a coat.”
“Oh dear. I haven’t thought of everything after all.”
“My fault,” she said. “I should have mentioned on the phone.”
“I won’t be put off. Why don’t we do something wild and take a taxi to lunch?”
“Deal,” she said. “I’m just hungry enough to agree to that.”
He handed her the mittens, which she pulled on with her pants suit.
“Perfect,” she said. “Did you paint today?”
“Just sketched.”
He held her hand through her woolen mitten, letting go only to open the door for her.
“Blocked?” she said. “Is this lunch a way to shake loose ideas?”
“This lunch is an excuse to see my wife.”
“You see me every day,” she said.
He motioned for her to walk through first.
“You seemed as though you could use a break in routine.”
“Yes,” she said. “I haven’t been myself.”
The snow imbued them with magical powers. As soon as they got down to the curb and Liesl raised her arm, a taxi pulled up in front of them. They barely had time to get snow in their eyelashes. The radio was playing Gershwin. What kind of taxi plays Gershwin in the middle of the day? John turned to Liesl and smiled a smile that glowed. He was so very happy to see her.
She left it to him to select the restaurant, and though she was surprised when he said Paris, a place with white tablecloths and fresh-baked rolls served with little silver tongs, she didn’t complain. It was only a few blocks from the library, which made the whole situation with the taxi seem even more luxurious. Imagine taking a taxi in the middle of the day to go only a few blocks! When the taxi pulled in front of the restaurant’s pink facade, John jumped out and ran around to hold her door open for her. He looped his arm through hers and walked her to the restaurant door, both of them tiptoeing through the now-ankle-deep snow.
“You’re acting as though we’re celebrating.”
“Aren’t we? I’ve accepted a commission.”
She held his arm tighter. They were greeted by a white shirt and black apron. The restaurant smelled like butter and money.