4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

A few minutes before Wednesday's lunch hour, Lucy left the office to go to a small cafe in downtown Paducah. It was a favorite spot among the locals for business lunches, something that Lucy rarely found herself doing. However, on this Wednesday afternoon, she happened to have an appointment with none other than the president of the university, Dr. Burke.

As Lucy walked towards her car to head to the cafe, she breathed in deeply of the fall air. To Lucy's thinking, fall in Western Kentucky was a gift. The air was lightly scented with hickory smoke emanating from tobacco barns. Lucy loved the anachronism that was Kentucky’s tobacco barns. In a world where people regularly fly hundreds of miles in a few hours and purchase goods from across the globe with a push of a button, tobacco farmers were still lighting slow-burning fires on the floors of enormous barns where row after row of dried tobacco hung above. As Lucy drove to the cafe, she rolled down the window so she could enjoy the smoky air.

Lucy arrived at the cafe, still wondering about the purpose of the meeting. When she received an email from the president’s office requesting the meeting, she hadn't hesitated to accept. Even though being president of a small university did not make someone all-powerful, there was something about the title of "president" that brooked no argument.

Arriving a few minutes before the president, Lucy ordered a cup of coffee for a pre-lunch infusion of caffeine. She was exhausted, the result of reading not only Forrest's paper on Whitman, but also several chapters from a biography of the American poet. Lucy did not like to appear ignorant when she engaged in a discussion with a colleague. Forrest paid her significantly for her editing, and she wanted to do a thorough job of the task at hand. Lucy did not always walk into a room confidently. She usually felt a little too big and unrefined for any given space. But she did engage in conversations with confidence. Where she might have doubted the value of her appearance, she did not doubt the value of her mind.

Looking across the small cafe, Lucy saw President Burke entering. He was well-acquainted with Lucy's father, a member of the Board of Trustees for PSU. She wondered if her father had a part in this mystery lunch. He had never been a particularly hands-on father, preferring to give his small but mighty wife the reigns over their daughter. Since Lucy's mom passed away soon after Lucy started her job in the English department, her father had been at a loss for how to connect with his daughter. Playing a little puppet-master in the background to try and benefit Lucy would have been in his playbook, his definition of basic fatherly love.

"Good afternoon, Ms. O'Shields. Thank you for having this lunch with me." President Burke's Southern drawl was thick as he greeted Lucy and sat down across from her.

"Of course, Dr. Burke. I was so grateful to be asked." Lucy was good at being polite. While her mother had failed at turning her into a frail beacon of femininity, she had taught Lucy manners.

Small talk about the weather and the upcoming basketball season and the appropriate amount of sweetness for sweet tea filled the time as they ordered their lunches and waited for the food to be brought out. Finally, Dr. Burke turned the conversation to PSU business.

"How are things in the English department?"

"Never a dull moment, as always." Lucy preferred to keep things vague. There was no need for Dr. Burke to know all the details of their little office (like exactly how many books collapsed to the ground with the fall of the Tower of Pisa or how many naps Dr. Hubert took in a week. Or a day).

"Oh, I'm sure. That is quite a cast of characters you have there. I never know what to expect next from Dr. Rose in our faculty meetings."

If Lucy wasn't mistaken, Edith had taken over last month's faculty meeting to deliver an impromptu lecture on the importance of living wages for the university's groundskeepers and cleaning crew. Lucy smiled sweetly and said, "She is charming."

President Burke gave a chuckle that almost sounded nervous. Edith had that effect on people.

The waitress came over with the day's lunch special of pork chops and baked potatoes for each of them. As she walked away, President Burke got to the business at hand: "Lucy, I invited you here today for a reason. There is an opportunity I would like to talk with you about."

"Yes?"

"Well, as I am sure you know, your work ethic and aptitude for office administration is legendary on campus."

"Legendary? Sir, I'm only 32 years old."

President Burke paused with his knife and fork in midair. "Hence, the legendary part."

"Well, color me flattered." Lucy was pretty sure a blush was doing just that.

"Mrs. Smith, the presidential office's administrator for the past forty years..."

With a nod of reverence, Lucy cut in, "Also a legend."

"Yes, well, she is retiring."

"Aah," Lucy suddenly knew what was coming, but she had no idea how she would respond.

"I'm here to ask you if you might consider taking over Mrs. Smith's post. I can think of no one else who could possibly fill her shoes."

"Dr. Burke. I am honored. Truly."

"But?"

Lucy knew there was a but . She just didn't know what it was.

"I don't know, sir. It is something I would need to think seriously about."

"I understand. Let me give you a few pieces of information that will help you make this decision."

"I'm listening."

"You will get a 25 percent pay raise..."

"That is very generous, sir."

"As well as a boost in retirement. It is a challenging, busy, high-demand job, but you strike me as someone who likes to be busy."

"That is true."

"You will be in charge of the running of the entire President's Office. I would give you a great deal of authority." He paused as if trying to remember any selling points he had omitted, then said, "And did I mention the 25 percent raise?"

Lucy laughed. The president had a sense of humor. Good to know. But so did the four professors whose offices wreathed her own.

As they finished their meal, President Burke gave Lucy a deadline of a few weeks to make her decision. While she was sincerely flattered by the offer, Lucy also felt nauseous at the thought of leaving a position in an office where she felt so much affection for her co-workers. President Burke seemed nice enough, but, really, who could compare with Forrest, Edith, Porter, and Dr. Hubert?

***

After a slice of Derby Pie and saying goodbye to President Burke, Lucy exited the cafe and headed towards her car. She glanced across the street from her vehicle and saw Miriam Howatch, her closest friend, coming out of the coffee shop across the street.

"Miriam!" Lucy called out to her. Miriam beamed when she saw who was calling her name and immediately started walking across the street to Lucy.

Miriam was still as outgoing, outspoken, and mischievous as she had been in undergrad, but her life had taken some unexpected turns. After graduating, Miriam had shocked Lucy, her family, her friends, the English Department, and (it seemed) the world by announcing that she would be enrolling at a seminary the coming fall. Lucy had always known that Miriam was fascinated by books that touched on theology, and she often brought religious themes to class discussions in the various English courses they had taken together, but Lucy had never heard Miriam even casually muse that she might enter the priesthood.

It took Miriam several years to go through seminary and the ordination process, and during that time, she had lived on the opposite end of the state. However, two years ago, Miriam had been called to be the Associate Rector at Paducah's Trinity Episcopal Church. As soon as she arrived in town, it was as if they had not been apart for eight years. The two had always kept in touch, so it was natural for the friendship to immediately pick up where it had left off. Lucy still felt a pleasant shock that her best friend finally lived in the same town as her.

Miriam was none of the things Lucy had learned to associate with religion over the years. When she was angry at an injustice, she did not shy away from the occasional profanity, she was inclusive to the extreme, and she reveled in the joys which life had to offer. Like wine. Miriam loved a glass of wine (or two) with dinner. She and Lucy got together at least once a week for dinner and wine and conversations that stretched deep into the evening.

As Miriam walked toward Lucy, she adjusted her crisp, white clerical collar. Even after a decade of knowing her friend was moving toward and then into the priesthood, Miriam still did not look like the image of "priest" Lucy had in her head. While in undergrad, Miriam had collected a small menagerie of tattoos. Lucy would go with her to the parlors on Friday nights and ramble on endlessly about the various couples who were beginning flirtations or spiraling apart in a stunning display of undergraduate drama. Miriam always said Lucy's chatter kept her mind off of the pain of the needle as the artist created the tree with roots that crept down her left forearm or the cascade of birds that flew across her right shoulder. Except for the tab collar, Miriam wore all black, and the black coupled with her tattoos felt more biker than priest.

And unlike the bald, overweight men Lucy had grown up seeing in the pulpit of her mother's Baptist church, Miriam was strikingly beautiful. She was about the same height as Lucy, but slenderer. She probably had that skinny gene scientists had just discovered. Lucy had read about it in the news while eating a brownie from the campus cafeteria, feeling unending jealousy towards the people lucky enough to be born in bodies that stayed thin regardless of brownie intake. Miriam had chestnut hair that was naturally curly, and she wore it cut above the shoulder. The curls bounced as she jogged the last few steps to Lucy.

Miriam leaned against Lucy's car as she said, "Hey, you. What are you doing downtown? I didn't think they let you leave campus."

"Well, since you asked, it turns out I'm a very important person, and very important people get to leave for business lunches."

"I feel like there is a story here. Do tell." Miriam still loved to hear about other people's lives. It was the sort of personality trait that served her well in her occupation. The only difference from undergrad was that Miriam now took confidentiality very seriously.

Lucy had already planned to confide in Miriam and seek advice. "President Burke asked me to a business lunch."

"That does sound important."

"And he offered me the job of being the administrative assistant in the President's Office."

"That's good, right?"

"I'm not sure. I was sort of hoping you could tell me."

"Explain."

"Well, I'd get a 25 percent raise..."

"Important people should make more money." Miriam could never stay completely serious for too long.

"Obviously. And I'd have a lot more responsibility and challenges..."

"You like challenges. But?"

Lucy's voice rose a step with frustration. "That's the thing. I know there is a 'but.' I know that when I talk about this, a 'but' is implied in my tone and probably in my eyes, too. You know how I get that weird, wide-eyed look when I'm confused."

"Your eyes do look a little odd right now." Miriam got the reaction she had been seeking; the stressed slant of Lucy's eyebrows relaxed as she laughed. Good friends remind you to not take yourself quite so seriously.

Miriam's face took on a more somber expression, and she said, "Luce, can I give you some advice?"

"That's your whole job, right?"

Using her best sermon cadence, Miriam declared, "Yes. Let me share with you my infinite wisdom."

"Go on."

"Seriously, as your friend, you've only known about this job for what, an hour?"

"More like thirty minutes."

"Exactly. Not long. You don't have to know what the 'but' is yet. It is enough that you know something is giving you pause."

Lucy's body slumped against the side of the car next to Miriam, and she said, "You know, Miri, when you're not being a total mess, you're really pretty wise."

Just as the words escaped Lucy's mouth, a man walking down the sidewalk called out, "Good afternoon, Mother Miriam."

Miriam waved and returned the greeting as he went by.

"But even if I think you're wise, I will never get used to hearing people call you 'Mother Miriam.'"

At this, Miriam bent over laughing, reveling in the irony of her career choice.

Once she collected herself, Miriam asked Lucy, "So, how many students are in love with Dr. Graham this semester?"

Since they had been in his first class together, the gaggle of adoring students around Dr. Graham had always been a source of humor for them.

"It's hard to know an exact number. A dozen maybe? I had to lie to one the other day who was trying to deliver him a book of Pablo Neruda poetry. He hid quietly in his office while I told the girl he was out and that professors aren't allowed to accept books from students."

"Is that an actual rule?"

"Nope, but I came up with it years ago when he bemoaned that he couldn't fit any more poetry books on his shelves."

"Shame on you, Lucy. Lying like that."

"I'm sorry. Should I have started the telling of that story with, ‘Forgive me, priest, for I have sinned’?"

"It does have a ring to it, but I'll let it pass this time."

"I can't really ridicule those girls since I myself may have stayed up late with thoughts of trimmed beards and tweed jackets in my own undergraduate days." This was still a source of embarrassment to Lucy, but what was the point in hiding from Miriam what she already knew.

"Yes, but you never lurked. You didn't think of twenty completely inane questions about a footnote so that you could stay."

"That's right. When I stayed late, it was for legitimate, thoughtful questions I would have asked any professor, even an old, unattractive one who smelled musty. And if I had bought him a book, I would have at least made sure it was 19th century American." Lucy wasn't positive this was strictly true, but she knew Miriam was a loyal friend who would play along.

"Exactly. I only knew you had a crush on him because your blushing wouldn't let you hide it from me."

"It is a curse to be so fair and so readable. Especially when one is young and susceptible to all manner of crushes." Lucy still cringed thinking about her reaction to Dr. Graham that first semester. She was sure her face had darkened three shades the first ten minutes of every class. Her palms would get sweaty and she would feel horribly conspicuous, reassessing each day if the second row was really a good idea.

Curious, Miriam asked Lucy, "How did you get past that? You had it pretty bad for him."

"Good, old-fashioned exposure therapy. After the first year or so, we just became friends. He's easy to be comfortable around once you aren't hopelessly crushing on him." Lucy thought about their conversation the previous afternoon, how he had seemed stressed but had still taken time to ask her about the details of her day. Yes, it was easy to be comfortable with him now.

"Speaking of Dr. Graham, is he still with Dr. Bugs?”

Lucy smiled broadly. "Porter's nicknames do have staying power."

"I shouldn't have favorites, but he is definitely one of my favorite parishioners." In undergrad, Porter's youthful, energetic teaching style had made him a favorite with Lucy and Miriam. He and his family happened to be members of Miriam's church, so she had become reacquainted with him since moving back.

"Well, I'm sorry to say Dr. Bugs and Dr. Graham are no longer an item."

"Is this something people are sad about?"

"Dr. Graham didn't seem sad. More stressed than anything. Something about him seemed a bit off when he told me. Maybe he's sadder than he realizes." Lucy shrugged a shoulder.

Miriam squeezed Lucy's arm as she said, "I would love to stand here and analyze Dr. Graham's love life..."

"Let's not."

"...but I have to get back to the parish hall for a meeting with the bereavement committee."

"Fun?"

"You have no idea. Are we still on for Saturday?"

"Absolutely. I've got to get back, too. I have a mile-long to-do list this afternoon, and then Dr. Graham and I are working on some editing tonight."

A mischievous glint animated Miriam's face, making Lucy feel for a moment like they were saying goodbye before each heading to their next class. "Be careful, Luce. Dr. Graham's a free agent now."

***

Lucy looked into the rearview mirror. Her glasses were, as always, smudged, so she did a quick cleaning before putting them back on and starting up the vehicle. As she began driving back to campus, Miriam's words reverberated through her mind.

Dr. Graham was a free agent. Although, in her mind she heard, Forrest is a free agent . In the office, Lucy mostly referred to each professor as Dr. Insert-last-name. There were students always in and out, so it made sense to keep things formal. In private conversations, though, she had long since started calling Dr. Rose and Dr. Finch Edith and Porter. It was a natural product of friendships formed over so many years.

Dr. Hubert, though, was always Dr. Hubert to Lucy. It wasn't for lack of friendship. Lucy loved Dr. Hubert no less than Edith and Porter. It was just that the very essence of Dr. Hubert was so professorial, it was hard to imagine calling him anything else. Even Mrs. Hubert called him Dr. Hubert. Lucy laughed to herself as she mused over when might have been the last time Dr. Hubert had been referred to as Charles. An angry high school basketball coach yelling across the court for him to block the other team's guard? His mother when dropping him off at his first college dormitory as she reminded him to wash his socks? A world where Charles Hubert wasn't Dr. Hubert seemed completely alien.

But Dr. Forrest Graham? He had implored Lucy to call him Forrest on numerous occasions. He insisted that they spent far too much time together to be so formal, and Lucy agreed. She really did. It was just that when she tried to say Forrest , she felt tongue-tied. Suddenly, all of the insecurities of the college senior crushing on the new professor flooded in on Lucy, and she would retreat back to the security of a formal title.

The reality was that Forrest had not suddenly become unattractive to Lucy the moment she accepted the job as department secretary. She hadn’t flipped a switch on her attraction to him. But the professional relationship and, eventually, friendship they’d built had become more valuable, more tangible, with the passage of time. Miriam and Lucy were the only two people who knew there had ever been anything more in Lucy’s thoughts and feelings toward Forrest. Perhaps the small formalities she kept in place were simple precautions to safeguard against that secret getting out.

Lucy's remedy to this problem was to avoid saying his name in one-on-one conversations as much as possible. Really, when one set their mind to avoiding saying a name, one realized how little names are necessary to the normal rhythm of a conversation.

Lucy was fully cognizant of just how strange this particular mental block was. She had no idea what separated Forrest from the others in her mind's categories. If she was color-coding her colleagues, why would he be a different color? And exactly how much would she have to pay a therapist to get to the bottom of this mystery?

Regardless, Lucy did not have the time or energy or desire to try and find out. She generally avoided ignorance, but she had a feeling it was preferable to the alternative in this situation. After all, she was already squirming with discomfort at Miriam's words.

This was far from the first time Forrest had suddenly been single over the past ten years. In fact, he seemed to go through breakups at least once every year or two. The relationships were always brief and spaced out by prolonged periods of singlehood. Dr. Wray had really achieved something impressive with a full six months. Perhaps that is where the discomfort was coming from. Lucy had simply gotten used to Forrest being in a relationship.

Lucy reminded herself (in her sternest internal monologue) that tonight was no different from the dozens of editing meetings they had shared over the years. That Forrest was no more or less available than at any other time in their working relationship. He was always permanently unavailable to the office administrator. Clearly. And she would be a normal person tonight who was perfectly capable of calling her colleague and friend by his first name without performing verbal gymnastics to avoid it.

And then her treacherous mind responded with a meek, I think I can . To which Lucy scowled the rest of the drive to the office.