“Yes, but this isn’t university property. It’s Dr. Markel’s personal laptop.”
Anna stopped dead. “It’s her personal laptop?”
Nodding, Chanda said, “There was a mix-up when she was hired. The candidate search took more than a year, and in the meantime I think the acting vice provost just kind of moved in. He gave his older computer to someone else in his office. When Dr. Markel was hired and he had to leave, he didn’t have a computer of his own anymore. So he took the one he’d been working with here, and Dr. Markel said it wasn’t a big deal, she’d just use her own laptop until the university got her a new one. I’m surprised it took her this long to put in the order, but she’s been very busy getting settled into the position.”
“So she’s donating her almost brand-new personal laptop to the university?” Anna asked incredulously.
“No. I thought I told you—she’s donating it to me.”
Anna’s brain disengaged for the second time that afternoon. “That’s…astonishing,” she managed. “I’ve never heard of anyone doing that before.”
“I know! Unbelievable, isn’t it?” Chanda lowered her voice slightly. “She said that having me using personal equipment at work would give her the perfect justification for slipping a new computer into the budget. Something like ‘Chanda’s existing equipment was so slow and outdated that she had to bring in her own computer to get the work done.’ She thinks she can get it approved in the next quarterly budget update in January. Then I can have a nice new computer at work and this at home. I still can’t get over it. Do you know how much this laptop would cost if I had to buy it?”
In fact, Anna knew exactly how much it would cost, and her conscience helpfully pointed out that she hadn’t just misjudged Elizabeth—she’d done a world-class job of it. She couldn’t have gotten this one more wrong if she’d tried.
“She must feel pretty strongly about the work you do for her,” she said.
Chanda beamed. “She says I’m her biggest asset. I only try to do my job well. But I have never had a boss like Dr. Markel. I hope she never leaves.”
The hero worship shone in her face, and Anna could certainly see how it had been earned. She herself felt about as worthy as the gum on the bottom of someone’s shoe. She couldn’t even apologize for being so mistakenly judgmental, because Elizabeth had never known she was being judged in the first place—at least, not in that way. And Anna wasn’t about to enlighten her.
It was a relief to go back to copying files, which required just enough concentration to occupy her mind. Right now, she didn’t want to think about anything else, since every pathway of thought led to the same conclusion.
She finished transferring Chanda’s hard drive files to the portable drive, plugged it into the new laptop, and began copying them over. After that, it was a simple matter of disassembling the PC tower and monitor, dumping the whole mess on her cart—she’d frag the files and wipe the drive back in her office—and then setting up the hand-me-down monitor. Chanda hurriedly cleaned the dust and debris from where the old computer parts had sat on her desk, then hovered with an almost lecherous expression as the bigger, thinner monitor was positioned. Anna recognized geek lust when she saw it and managed to enjoy herself while showing Chanda how to dock the laptop with the monitor and keyboard. But her elevated mood vanished when she went back into the inner office.
Elizabeth had an elbow on her desk and her head propped in one hand as she read something on her screen. She was intently focused, her dark brows drawn together, looking impossibly appealing to Anna’s newly appreciative eyes. In that moment, she understood her reaction of the previous week. She hadn’t been disappointed in Elizabeth for ordering a new computer; she’d been disappointed in her for being so out of reach. For being a vice provost. Yet Elizabeth hadn’t seen them as being in different leagues at all. She’d thought Saturday was going to be a date.
But Anna had thrown that away, with both hands and a bad attitude on top of it.
The sharp sting of regret kept her motionless, reluctant to disturb the silence and put an end to this precious minute of voyeurism. Then Elizabeth looked up, her expression cooling noticeably as she saw Anna in the doorway, and the moment was lost.
“All done with Chanda?” she asked. “If I know her, she’s out there dancing the cha-cha on top of her desk.”
“Pretty close,” said Anna. “She’s not on her desk, but it’s the cha-cha.”
A smile crossed Elizabeth’s face, but it was gone too quickly. She looked back at her screen and said, “I’ve been reading some Mac 101 articles. Felt a bit like an idiot when I couldn’t figure out how to rename a file. I was looking for the rename command in the contextual menu.”
“And then you discovered that it was easier than that,” said Anna, taking the few steps to stand in front of the desk.
“It is. I think I’m going to be on a steep learning curve.”
“Not for long. The problem most switchers have in the beginning is that they’re used to things being more complicated. So they look for complicated ways to do things and get frustrated when what they’re trying doesn’t work. Just remember, think simple. This operating system is designed on two levels instead of one. All the complicated stuff is hidden under the surface. You can get to it if you need to, but most of the time you’ll never have to go past the surface. You’re used to a system where you need to be a geek to do almost anything. You’ll have to break yourself of that expectation. And in the meantime, if you have any questions at all, call me.”
“I’ve got the Tech Services number right here.” Elizabeth tapped a yellow sticky note attached to the front corner of her desk. “I figure I’ll be using it fairly often for a couple of weeks.”
Anna hesitated, then said, “That’s the general number. If you want, you can call my extension directly. It’s twenty-two fifty-three.” She held her breath, fully expecting the offer to be rebuffed.
Instead Elizabeth wrote the number on the note. “Thank you,” she said. “I appreciate the way you explain things, and I think you’re very good at translating geek speak into something that everyone can understand. I’ll be glad of your help if I get stuck.”
Her professionalism made Anna feel even worse, and she took refuge in the task at hand. “Are you ready for the bigger toy?”
“Absolutely. Bring it on.”
It was the work of minutes to unpack the sleek aluminum monitor and plug it in. Elizabeth didn’t need any prompting before attaching the cables, but she did need a quick lesson in where to find the monitor settings on the computer. As she began happily experimenting with mirroring the displays, Anna gathered up the materials and closed the box. Picking it up, she was just preparing to say good-bye when Elizabeth said, “Don’t leave yet! You still have to install that cool little launcher program.”
“Oh, right, I forgot.” Anna smiled; this was one of the fun parts of teaching a new Mac owner. “I’m not going to install it. You are.” She wrote the name down on a sticky note and pressed it to the desk, then directed Elizabeth to open up the App Store and enter her ID.
“Now find it,” she said, tapping a finger on the note.
Elizabeth typed the name in the search box, found the app, and then looked up with a questioning air. “Click the little ‘free’ button?”
“Yes.”
“Oh—now it says install.” Elizabeth clicked the button and entered her ID in the download pop-up window. She watched as the button changed to “installing” and then “installed,” and looked up again. “Now what?”
Anna shrugged. “Nothing. You’re done.”
“That was it?”
“Yeah, you just installed a new program. How does it feel?”
Elizabeth laughed. “Like it was way too easy.”
“Get used to it; you’ll be feeling that a lot,” Anna said. “Now, if you want to open it, you can either go to your applications folder or just hit the launchpad key.” She leaned over to tap the key, bringing
up the launchpad. The icon for Elizabeth’s new program sat at the bottom, drawing attention to itself with twinkling sparkles. “It’ll only do the twinkly thing when it’s first downloaded; after that it looks normal.”
“Amazing,” muttered Elizabeth, clicking on the icon and smiling at the little app’s welcome screen. “Doesn’t this kind of stuff put you out of a job?”
“Oh, believe me, I will always have a job.” Anna spent a few minutes helping her personalize her new app, then explained the difference between university apps pushed to her machine and any apps she downloaded or purchased on her own Apple ID.
“Well, thank you,” said Elizabeth when they were done. “This was actually kind of fun, and I can assure you I’ve never said that about a computer before.”
“I know what you mean. Don’t forget, if it stops being fun because something isn’t working the way you expect it to, give me a call. There are enough differences between the operating systems that you’re going to have to lose a few habits and pick up some new ones.”
Elizabeth nodded her understanding, and they looked at each other for a few seconds before Anna realized she had no more reason to be there.
“Well, time to pack up and get back to the Bat Cave,” she said, turning to pick up the box.
“Bat Cave? Your office?”
“It’s kind of dark, and it’s always a little on the cool side. The name just stuck. Enjoy your new toy.”
“I have a feeling I will.” Elizabeth got up and walked her to the door.
Suddenly, Anna found that she couldn’t leave without saying it. “Elizabeth…I’m really sorry about Saturday. I was a moron.”
“You don’t need to apologize again,” Elizabeth said. “It’s over and done. Thanks for all your help here today. And take care,” she added, before Anna could say anything else. She turned and walked back to her desk, leaving Anna feeling dismissed and thoroughly miserable.
“You too,” she said to Elizabeth’s back, and closed the door behind her.
CHAPTER 7
Anna fielded frequent calls from Elizabeth over the next two weeks. All of them were basic switcher questions and easy to answer—too easy, as it turned out, because she never had a decent excuse to stay on the line. Elizabeth treated her with perfect professionalism, but it never translated into the kind of friendly work relationship that she had with so many others. Heck, she had people on the branch campuses whom she considered friends even though she’d never physically met them. Regular phone contact and a common work culture tended to create an odd kind of intimacy, but she couldn’t make it happen with Elizabeth. Not that it should be a surprise; Anna herself had guaranteed that Elizabeth would never trust her that way.
The help calls dwindled as Elizabeth became more proficient with her new operating system, until one day Anna realized she hadn’t heard from her at all in several weeks. Their paths certainly didn’t cross naturally; they moved in very different spheres on campus. And without the need for Anna’s services, there was no longer any reason for Elizabeth to reach out.
Of course she had never again shown up at the Bean Grinder. Though Anna had spent more time there than normal, stretching out her Saturday visits and even dropping in on a couple of Sundays, it did no good. Elizabeth must have found another shop to patronize. Which made Anna feel even more guilty, because the Bean Grinder was the best place in town. It wasn’t fair for Elizabeth to have to go somewhere else just to avoid her.
By now she could acknowledge that standing Elizabeth up ranked somewhere in the top ten stupidest, rudest, and most damaging things she’d ever done. Possibly the top five. Looking back at it, she could no longer believe she’d ever managed to justify that to herself, let alone work up the righteous indignation she’d felt over that ridiculous scone. When she remembered her feeble defense in Elizabeth’s office—that she’d shown up for their date but Elizabeth had already left—she wanted to sink into a hole in the ground. God, that was embarrassing. Occasionally, she’d fantasize about going over, explaining everything, and asking for another chance, but then reality would intrude. Codfish did not ask sharks out for dates.
And Elizabeth wasn’t just a shark; she was one of the biggest sharks. As Vice Provost for Research, she was responsible for one entire satellite campus, the grant administration for the whole university, both the Sea Grant and Space Grant programs, and almost everything to do with scientific research, technology transfer, and trademarks. Anna didn’t even know how one person could do all that, but it was right there in her job description, which was easily accessed on the university intranet. Also easily accessed were the announcements of her hiring in back issues of the campus newspaper and several college and research program newsletters. Not that she was obsessing, but she felt a little closer to Elizabeth by learning more about her. Unfortunately, the more she learned, the more unattainable Elizabeth became. She had a Yale biochemistry degree with a one-year exchange to Cambridge, then she’d turned around and gotten an MBA, followed by an accelerated PhD back in her original discipline. It was as if she’d designed her academic program specifically to launch her into university administration, since she had both the science and the business expertise. And it had clearly worked. From her first job out of college until now, Dr. Elizabeth Markel had been on the fast track.
Anna’s own BS degree in Computer Science had been a big deal in her family. She was the only one of the three children to complete a university education, and her parents still gloated about it to their friends. But compared to Elizabeth’s CV, Anna’s background seemed pretty tattered by comparison.
That feeling was reinforced at Christmas, when she flew back to Kansas for the usual family gathering. Surrounded by her siblings and extended family—there were eleven of them at the dinner table this year, with her sister’s new baby—she tried and failed to imagine Elizabeth fitting in with the boisterous crowd. It was all very well to fantasize about going back and fixing her mistake, but really, how far could it go, even if she herself could get over their differences? She loved her family, but her life away from them had changed her enough that she could see the narrow world they inhabited. They didn’t lack for intelligence, but they had little curiosity about anything outside their own lives. Conversation centered around the children and especially the new baby, local and state politics, bad management decisions at the phone company where her father and brother worked, and the dismal performance so far of both the Kansas City Chiefs and the St. Louis Rams.
As the traditional arguments began about whether they should start supporting the Denver Broncos “just to have a winning team,” Anna suddenly missed Elizabeth fiercely. She thought about the single day they’d had together, when the conversation had flowed so easily and over such wide-ranging topics. They’d talked about the places she could visit on her planned European trip, national and international politics, how European colonialism had changed the fortunes of so many nations worldwide, how those changes still resonated even today… She couldn’t imagine talking about any of this with her family. Most of them had never traveled outside the Midwest, though her sister still rhapsodized about her family vacation two years ago at Disney World.
With that thought came another, much more disturbing one. In many ways, Anna didn’t fit in here much better than Elizabeth would. Her family was just the same as it had always been, barring an ever-increasing number of grandchildren, but she was not. Her world had grown larger.
And yet, when she’d learned Elizabeth’s job title, she’d reacted like the daughter of a phone company lineman. Like a blue-collar worker feeling utterly out of place with the vice president of the company.
But that’s not who I am, she realized. And it wasn’t who Elizabeth had seen that day in the coffee shop.
As the debate about the Broncos raged around her, she tuned everyone out in order to examine this new and startling realization in more detail. Was the difference between her and Elizabeth all of her own making? Had she really been that stupid
? She remembered Elizabeth’s quiet voice saying, Clearly I’m the only one who thought we had a date. My mistake, and shook her head. That wasn’t Elizabeth’s mistake, it was hers. And she was beginning to think it might haunt her for a long time to come.
After dinner, the men trooped off to the family room to watch television while the women set themselves to clearing the table and washing the dishes. It was a gender-locked ritual that Anna hated with every fiber of her being, but she could also admit that the conversation got a lot more interesting once the women and men had separated. This was when she heard all the juicy bits about her siblings’ marriages, as well as the more colorful local news, and more than once her mother’s storytelling skills had them all cracking up in laughter. It was a wonder that nothing got broken.
They were down to the last few pots, having cleaned, dried, and put away everything else, when her mother broke from tradition. “Kim, Melanie, you get on out of here,” she said, making shooing motions with her dishtowel. “Anna and I will finish up. There’s not much left, and it’s a two-person job now.”
Her sister and sister-in-law were clearly surprised to be excused early but wasted no time taking advantage of it. Within seconds, Anna and her mother had the kitchen to themselves.
“Now then,” said her mother, handing over the scouring pad, “tell me what’s had you so far away all weekend.”
“What do you mean?” Anna set the mashed potato pot in the deep sink and got to work.
“I mean you’ve been much too quiet. Something’s bothering you. Normally, I’d let you chew on whatever it is in peace, but we only get to see you a few days out of the year, and I hate to see them wasted like this.”
“You sure you want to hear about it, Mom? It involves a woman.” It had been years since she’d come out to her family, and they’d been accepting once they got past the initial shock and dismay. But that had never translated to ease, and after a few uncomfortable attempts, she’d learned to keep her romantic life out of the general conversation. It was unfair, and she felt it keenly every time her siblings talked so freely about their own lives, but that was reality.
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