by Charish Reid
Katherine laughed. “Of course it is, silly. Mark your calendar for October 25th, 18:00, at the Drake Hotel.”
Victoria rolled her eyes as she wrote the word gala on her desk calendar. “And what comes after the reception? Will there be another thing?”
“We’re having brunch the next day, dear.”
Of course there was brunch. Uncle Jeffrey wouldn’t get off that easily. He and his wife would sit with her family to trot out memories of the old days while Victoria kept her elbows off the table. “So, we’re talking one night?”
“One night wouldn’t kill you, Victoria. Honestly, you act like teaching is the end-all, be-all of your existence. Just don’t assign the children homework over the weekend and you’ll be fine.”
After all these years, she had the idea that Victoria was a grade school marm. “I don’t just teach, ma’am,” she said. “I wish it was just teaching.”
Katherine breezed past her point. “Well, you can put it on hold for a little while.”
“I’m glad you think so.”
“And while you’re here, I’m going to introduce you to Linda’s boy,” her mother said in an excited voice.
“Who’s Linda?”
“You’ve met Linda; she’s another officer’s wife. Her son, Matthew, is a lawyer at some firm or another, here in the city.”
Victoria frowned. “Are you trying to set me up on a date?”
“If we’re lucky!” Katherine said. “His divorce just cleared.”
“I’m not interested,” she said, dropping her head to the desk’s surface.
“Don’t say what you’re not interested in until you’ve got all the answers, Victoria,” Katherine scolded. “If you want to talk about not having time, you’d better start with your ovaries, little lady. Thirty-four and single is the epitome of running out of time.”
She was going to get all of the greatest hits on this phone call. Katherine’s favorite being unwed and childless. “Mother...”
“Your gradebook isn’t going to keep you warm at night.”
“I will come to Chicago on one huge condition: Please do not pawn me off on a divorced lawyer.”
“Well it’s not as if you’ve got someone to bring. I don’t want you to be the lonesome single woman, all pitiful and bookish.”
“I’m sure it would reflect poorly on you,” Victoria said.
“You know what I meant. Like I said, you don’t have anyone to bring, do you?”
Nope, unwed and childless Victoria Reese didn’t have a date. “Whether I do or not, you can’t meddle in my life like that,” she said in a tired voice.
“What you call meddling, I call concerned and attentive,” Katherine said. “Matthew will be there and I’d like you to at least speak to him, like a lady.”
Like a lady...
“I’ll be there, but I’m not promising anything.” It was the best response to get her mother off the phone. Flat-out nos were not allowed in their relationship. If she let her mother believe there was a small chance of controlling the situation, they were better off for it.
“Excellent.”
She could hear her mother’s grin. “I’ll see you on Friday night,” Victoria said.
“Arrive early at the house and we’ll all go to The Drake together.”
“Sure.” When she hung up, Victoria was exhausted.
Chapter Two
It had been a full twenty-four hours since John Donovan had to trade in his title of “Fun Uncle Johnny” for the role of full-time father figure to his niece, Becca. And it wasn’t going well. After an awkwardly silent dinner of Chinese takeout, the twelve-year-old had retired to her bedroom, leaving John to watch television by himself. As he lounged on the couch, he tried to decide if he should call Becca’s mother for advice or talk to Becca himself. After a sixteen hour flight, his sister, Jessi, would most likely be exhausted. If he tried his hand at talking to Becca, he might come away learning very little about what bothered her. He could only assume that her mother leaving for a work trip was only part of it. The other part was that communication with her father went quiet soon after Jessi filed for a divorce.
Unbeknownst to Becca, all hell had broken out several months ago when Jessi had discovered Allen’s infidelities...plural. When John found out, he hadn’t reacted with the most tact, but he did feel that a swift punch to the jaw was justified. He didn’t know where Becca’s father was at the moment, but he knew the man wasn’t in a hurry to visit his daughter. Not while she stayed with John. Not all of the details were explained to Becca: not the secretary or the young recording star that Allen was an agent for, nor the punch John landed at a church cookout. All she knew was that her parents were divorcing and her mother was making efforts to advance her career by traveling to Sweden for two months. Becca wasn’t happy about that either.
So John had to decide what to do. Talk to the girl or talk to his stepsister.
Indecision was a common problem for him. When too many things were on his plate, he became anxious and ultimately did nothing. The thought of acting swirled and tangled with the other responsibilities he was charged with. Talk to Becca, talk to Jessi, finish the budget reports for the library, schedule reading groups for the children’s department, follow up with the local university regarding some student internship thing... The more he thought about the list, the tighter his chest became. A workout was what he needed. If his niece wasn’t in the guestroom, he would have put on his sneakers and gone to the gym. A couple rounds on the heavy bag and he would have been able to focus his mind on a solution.
“Uncle Johnny?” said a small voice from behind him.
He twisted around to find Becca in her pajamas and satin bonnet. Her face, a mirror image of her mother’s, was tired and pinched with anxiety. “Hey honey, what’s up?”
She stood there, wringing her hands at the waist, before circling the couch and asking, “Can I use your phone?”
“Sure,” he said, pulling his phone from his back pocket. “But you might want to give your mom another hour. I think her plane just landed.”
“I’m not calling her,” Becca said in a solemn voice. “I want to call my dad.”
John hesitated before handing the phone over. “Yeah?”
“He’s not answering,” she said. “I thought that if I could use your phone...”
Jessi had made it clear to him that he was not to speak ill of Allen, but John was finding it difficult to stay mum when the man couldn’t even make an effort. He couldn’t deny Becca, he would have to let her find out for herself. “Here,” he said.
She dialed, and they waited through each ring, until finally, Allen’s voicemail indicated he would not be taking calls that evening. John let out a breath and silently cursed his brother-in-law. A simple “hey, honey, I can’t talk right now, but can I call you back later?” would have worked. To say she looked defeated was an understatement. Her brown eyes watered, but in the same stubbornness she shared with her mother, she did not cry. “He’s busy,” she said with more diplomacy than was necessary.
“Call your mom.”
“But you said—”
“I know, but you need to talk to her,” John said softly.
Becca tried again and successfully reached her mother in three rings. The phone’s screen lit up with Jessi’s beaming face. “Is that my little pumpkin?” she asked loudly.
His niece’s tears receded as a smile spread across her face. “Hi, Mom, are you in Sweden yet?”
“Just got to my hotel, baby,” Jessi said. “I’ve already bought you a flag, a soccer jersey, and a Viking helmet. Is Uncle Johnny there?”
“I’m here.”
“Johnny, I got you a bottle of elderflower schnapps.”
He pulled a disgusted face at Becca, who smirked. “Thanks, sis.”
“How are you doing, kiddo?”
/> “I’m okay,” she said. John waited for her to mention her father, but Becca continued down a different road. “I just wanted to say hi before I go to bed.”
“Well, hej, honey. That’s how they say hello here,” Jessi said. John could hear something was off in his sister’s voice. It sounded strained and overly cheery.
Becca gave a tense smile. “Okay, I love you, Mom.”
“I love you too, pumpkin. Sleep well.”
John motioned for her to give him the phone. “Let me talk to your mom,” he said, moving from the couch. He gave her a hug and watched her slouch off to her room before he turned his attention to his sister.
Jessi’s smile dropped. “Oh god, is she okay?” she asked in a lower voice.
He carried the phone upstairs to his bedroom for more privacy. “She’s still trying to adjust,” he admitted. “But I’m also concerned about how my step-twin is doing.”
When John’s parents divorced and his father remarried Jessi’s mother, he had made an effort to get to know the bookworm in his AP Bio class. Sure, it was awkward at first—hey, my dad is your dad now—but they quickly became the best of friends. Jessi’s expressive face was often easy to read, and John had trained himself to interpret every crease of her brow, every clenched jaw. She was exhausted and stressed.
“I’m fine,” she said with a tremulous smile.
“You lie.”
Jessi shrugged her shoulders. “You caught me. I’m just worried about Becca.”
“She’ll be fine,” John said in a firm voice. “I’ve been taking her to school and feeding her.”
“Yes, I know you’re doing all of that. Thank you for watching her while I’m gone. It’s just...” She pursed her lips and frowned. “I hated leaving her, that’s all. I’ve never taken a work trip like this, but it felt like an opportunity I couldn’t pass up.”
She was right; she couldn’t pass up this opportunity. After Allen had moved out of the house, Jessi set out to write a grant for an international trip. She had wanted to advance her career as a civil engineer, and make improvements to Farmingdale by studying city planning in Scandinavia. John had encouraged her to take the plunge and he would hold down the fort on his end.
“I’m glad I’m doing it,” she continued. “But I worry I left Becca in a lurch.”
“You have a job to do. And Becca’s not without a group of people to love her while you’re gone. She’s got me, and our moms when I eventually fuck up. Her grandmother is really good at first aid...”
His stepsister laughed. “Which grandmother? Your mother passes out at the sight of blood.”
“The point is, Becca belongs to the Donovan clan. We’ve got her back.”
“Speaking of people having her back...any word from Allen?”
He shook his head. “She’s been trying to call him.”
Jessi rolled her eyes upward and heaved a sigh. “I wish he could just give a damn.”
“Any idea where he’s at?”
“In LA maybe? That’s where the divorce papers were being forwarded.”
“When do you think you’re going to have a talk with her about her father? Don’t you think it’s time she knows the full story?”
“The full story? How explicit should I get with a twelve-year-old who still thinks her father is a hero?” she asked. “Where would I even start?”
As “Fun Uncle Johnny,” he didn’t know the answer to that question. His job was to be a goofball, but Becca didn’t seem all that receptive to his usual shenanigans. “I can’t say, but it’s going to get harder and harder to explain his silence. I know she has questions, Jess. It’s not going to take her long to start asking them.”
“I know, I know,” his stepsister said, rubbing her temple. “I’m fairly new to this too.”
They sat on the line in silence before John took a deep breath. “It’s okay. I’ll continue to treat the subject with kid gloves.”
“I’d appreciate it,” she said with a nod. “Let’s change subjects okay?”
“Yeah,” he said with a half smile. “I’ve got a long list of shit to do and I’m not doing any of it.”
“Perfect,” she said. “Have you written the list down?”
“Nope.”
“Is there something you can work on tonight?”
John chuckled. This is what his stepsister lived for. When John’s ADD made it difficult to concentrate, she always had helpful suggestions to jump-start his brain. “The library director passed a university project to me. Some internship I didn’t finish reading about.”
“Okay, so let’s finish reading the email first.”
“I think I can do that,” John said with another laugh. “Sometimes it feels like you’re patronizing me.”
“I never want it to sound like that, Johnny. I just know that it’s difficult for you to focus on more than one thing at a time. Especially if you’re stressed out. Just finish reading the email and then you can start some really broad research, nothing too in-depth.”
“It’s just the fall rush. There are more children’s activities to plan and Halloween is coming up. Plus, the budget numbers are due—”
“One thing at a time,” Jessi reminded him. “Right now, you read the email.”
“Right. Well, maybe I should let you go so I can do that.”
“I love you, bro. Good luck with my little pumpkin.”
“Love you too. Stay safe.”
When he hung up, he plopped onto his back and took a deep breath. Without realizing it, he had marked at least one thing off his list: Talk to Jessi. He was still unsure how to deal with the Allen/Becca problem, but he’d do his best to stay the current course. Staying mum until his sister could deal with it. For now, John would take her advice and read the message from his director.
He pulled it up on his phone and reviewed it. Pembroke English department, internship, Dr. Victoria Reese, forming valuable community ties, etc. Director Wegman had already expressed his interest, which meant John had to investigate. He wasn’t the head of the Children’s Department for nothing. He would just add this task to his already full plate.
Chapter Three
Subject: Collaboration with Pembroke University’s English Department
Victoria,
I look forward to meeting w/ you re: internship. Might be a bit late. Btw, looks like you got an overdue book w/ massive fines...
For the Duke’s Convenience?
We might need to discuss ;)
Cheers,
John
Even as her face burned with embarrassment, Victoria managed to read the email twice before staring out the window of her office. Three p.m. on Pembroke’s campus was cloudy with a stiff wind blowing the scarves and jackets of students who hurried to their next class. The beginning of October was colder than folks had anticipated, since Illinois had experienced a scorching summer. But Farmingdale was dealing with a cold snap that forced Pembroke University students to change out their flip-flops for UGG boots. The chill that burrowed its way into Victoria’s meager office was replaced with a furnace in her chest. She glanced back at the email and read it once more. Her eyes settled on the book title and narrowed.
For the Duke’s Convenience.
“I returned that,” she whispered to her computer screen. As she calculated the length of time it had been since her last visit to the Farmingdale library, she clicked on their website. Her account was flagged with a fine. Victoria’s eyes went round. $27.10. “Jesus, effin’ Christ.”
Perspiration prickled her scalp and under her arms while she searched for answers. The account information didn’t tell her much, but the amount was alarming enough. She clicked back to John Donovan’s email and tried to read his tone. Joking, laid-back, and late. He would be tardy to their first meeting, which was just as annoying as the overdue book comment. Her time
was precious and getting more scarce by the day. After their meeting, she had to gather the graduate students for an emergency meeting regarding the writing center. Later that evening, she’d have to start on the first wave of grading. She’d made the mistake of assigning papers to two classes only two days apart. On top of all that, she’d stolen a library book.
Victoria needed some air.
She gathered herself and shook out her arms in a desperate attempt to cool her armpits. A dull headache joined the itchy sensation of her too-tight braids. She resisted the urge to scratch, since she’d only gotten them done yesterday and still wanted them to have that fresh look. Oh, but she could have used an ibuprofen. Victoria swung her glossy black braids, some decorated with cowrie shells and gold cuffs, behind her shoulder and smoothed down her skirt before leaving her office.
In the hallway, she glanced at the open doors and spotted Paula’s office. Paula Michaels was an adjunct who shared workspace with two other part-time lecturers. When she wasn’t lesson planning, the rest of her time was spent writing romance novels that made women flush and swoon. Victoria admired her friend’s passion to create and grade papers at the same time. She peeked in Paula’s work station and saw her friend with her feet on her desk, balancing a pencil between her lip and nose.
“Workin’ hard or hardly workin’?” Victoria asked, wiggling her eyebrows.
Paula glanced up, letting the pencil fall from her face. “A bit of both,” she said with a grin.
Paula was alone with a small measure of privacy, so Victoria invited herself in and sat at her desk. “What are you working hard on and what are you slacking on?”
Her friend put her sneakered feet on the floor and straightened up in her chair. After she stuck the pencil in her short afro, she swung her computer monitor around to face Victoria. “Read that,” she said, pointing a bubblegum-pink fingernail at the screen.
Victoria squinted and leaned forward. “Billy yanked her panties down her thighs...”
“To yourself,” Paula said.
“Is this your new book?”
“Hm-hmm.”