Love and the Laws of Motion

by Amanda Weaver

  “Come on. We’ll be quick.”

  “What are we doing?”

  Michiko unlocked Peter’s door and flipped the lights on. “Take a look.”

  Well, it was a mess, for starters. And not simply the clutter that sometimes accompanied the mind of a genius. It was dirty. There were empty takeout containers, soda bottles, and candy wrappers littering the floor.

  “Did you bring me here to show me Peter’s a slob? Because I already knew that.”

  “No, Livie, look.” Michiko pointed to his desk.

  Sitting on the corner was a brand new high-end color printer. It was a specialized model, used for printing out the kind of images generated by deep space telescopes. It retailed for thousands of dollars. There was also a new thirty-inch high resolution monitor. That clocked in at four thousand dollars. Livie knew what they cost because she’d priced them out and included them in the budget for Janet’s research. They’d never been able to buy any of the equipment, though, because Janet had gotten sick before she’d signed off on the purchases.

  “Where did he get this equipment?”

  “That’s a very good question, don’t you think?”

  “Do you think—”

  “That Langley is skimming off Finch’s grant money? What do you think, Livie?”

  A few months ago, she’d have said absolutely not. She didn’t like the guy, but there was no way he’d do something so underhanded, so flat-out wrong. But she wasn’t that I anymore. And she wouldn’t put a goddamned thing past Langley.

  “I think I need to figure out how to play hardball.”

  Chapter Forty

  For all the time Livie had spent at school with Janet, she’d never been to her house. She hadn’t even known where she’d lived. How had she worked so closely with someone and been this disconnected personally? It was no different than Michiko. She’d spent two years alongside Michiko, but hadn’t exchanged more than a couple of words with her until this year. It turned out Michiko was great. Brilliant, funny, and definitely a person you wanted in your corner.

  Janet lived in a pretty two-story house in Ditmas Park. The neighborhood was a suburban oasis in the middle of Brooklyn, with quiet, tree-lined streets and large, well-tended Victorian houses. The Finch house was white, with a wide front porch and leaded glass windows.

  Yesterday, after her terrible meeting with Langley and Michiko’s subsequent revelations, she’d texted Andy Finch, telling him she really needed to speak to his mother. His response had been to invite her over the next day. And now here she was, about to see Janet and tell her everything that was happening in the department. Maybe she wasn’t yet well enough to come back and fight the battle herself, but hopefully she could tell Livie what to do, give her some insight into how to handle it.

  Andy opened the door, smiling, but tired.

  “Hi, Livie, come on in. Dad had to be at a thesis defense today. He’s sorry to miss you.”

  “Oh, that’s okay. What about you? Don’t you have work?”

  “I’ve taken a leave of absence to help with Mom.”

  A tremor of unease trickled down her spine. Janet still needed that much help?

  Janet’s house was a typical academic’s house, overstuffed bookshelves everywhere, mostly classics and literature, which Livie assumed belonged to her husband. Janet had always generated clutter, so it didn’t surprise Livie that her house was the same explosion of stuff as her office. But there was something different about this clutter. It wasn’t the product of a brilliant mind racing far ahead of any human’s ability to keep up. This felt like lives in chaos.

  Papers were stacked high on the dining room table, sharing space with empty takeout containers. Unopened mail littered the table inside the front door. Random pieces of medical equipment—plastic bags of tubing and syringes, sharps containers, pill bottles—were scattered over numerous surfaces. Andy and his father were barely hanging on.

  “Thanks for coming, Livie. I know Mom will be happy to see you. It’s this way.”

  She followed Andy up the stairs and down the hall to a bedroom.

  He stopped at the closed door and turned back. “Livie, you should know, she’s not herself.”

  “I’m sure. It was a serious heart attack.”

  “I just don’t want you to be shocked. After the stroke, there were deficits.”

  Deficits? “What kind of deficits? Will she get better?”

  “It’s hard to say. With the brain, there’s never any predicting.”

  Brain deficits. Dr. Janet Finch. The most brilliant woman Livie had ever met. Before she’d fully grasped the implications of that, Andy opened the door and ushered her inside. “Hi, Mom. Look who’s come to see you. It’s Livie.”

  A hospital bed dominated the room, along with a forest of medical equipment crowding the edges. In the middle of the massive bed, propped up, was Janet. She’d always been small, but now she was a shadow of her former self. Her face was all cheekbones and hollow eyes, and her hands, withered and gnarled, rested on the blanket. Her body barely made a lump under the covers. Her hair had been salt and pepper the last time Livie had seen her, more brown than gray. It was almost all gray now, thin and wispy.

  A flare of her old panic resurfaced, Livie’s terror of hospitals, of people lying helplessly in beds. That dread of looking death in the face. But she couldn’t give in to it this time. Nick wasn’t going to come hold her hand and help her through it. She had to do it on her own.

  Tentatively, she took a step closer to the bed. Janet looked decades older. How long would it take for her to come back from this? Could she?

  “Hi, Janet,” she said.

  Andy pointed to a chair placed near the head of the bed, so she sat. Janet’s eyes tracked her across the room, like she was trying to place her. That wasn’t immediately alarming. Janet had always operated on another plane. She was easily distracted and hard to bring back to earth.

  Suddenly, her expression brightened. This is it, Livie thought. She’s back. But then she opened her mouth and no words came out. Instead, it was sound, garbled, half-formed. It might have been her name, but it was impossible to tell. Livie’s blood ran cold.

  “She’s still having a hard time with speech,” Andy said. That was putting it very, very mildly. She couldn’t speak at all. Andy patted his mother’s hand. “Yes, Mom, Livie came to visit. You’re glad to see her, right?”

  She was still trying to talk and failing, her mouth opening and closing helplessly, a string of gurgling and moans the only sound she was able to produce. Her hands were twitching on the blanket. It was horrible to watch. Livie started talking, to end the terrible tension. “Don’t worry about the research. I’m keeping up with everything until you get back. Everything is fine.”

  That was a total lie, she realized now. It hit her like a physical blow. Everything everyone had been trying to warn her about was true. Janet was never coming back. Her research would remain forever unfinished.

  Janet raised a hand and gestured at Andy. Her fingers were cramped up sideways into claws. Something like a word came out of her mouth, but Livie couldn’t understand it. Andy did, though. He grasped his mother’s hand and squeezed.

  “Yes, Mom, it’s Livie.”

  She looked at Livie, and for a second, there was a flash of recognition, of the warmth that had been there before, but it was trapped inside this unwilling shell of her body, like something in a frozen lake, unable to reach the surface.

  Livie felt her eyes prick with tears, and she reached for Janet’s free hand. Her withered fingers clutched helplessly at Livie’s. “It’s so good to see you, Janet,” she whispered. Then she forced herself to talk, about anything and everything—the approaching holidays, the weather—anything except what was really important. She didn’t mention school again, or the Skylight grant, or their research, or Professor Langley. Because it no longer m
attered, at least to Janet. That was all part of her past. This was her life now, and it would be for as long as she lived. Everything else was now Livie’s problem to solve.

  When her eyes began to drift closed, Andy tapped Livie on the shoulder. “We’re going to let you rest, Mom.”

  Livie gave her hand one last squeeze before setting it gently back on the blanket. Then she followed Andy outside. He closed the door behind them. They stood in silence for a moment, Livie stunned, Andy exhausted and sad.

  “Come downstairs and have a cup of coffee,” he said eventually.

  Ten minutes later, they were sitting at the cluttered dining room table, Livie’s hands curled around a cup of coffee she couldn’t bring herself to drink.

  “I came to see if she was ready to wade into some departmental stuff that’s been happening. But I can see that’s not going to happen.”

  Andy looked up with tired eyes. “What’s going on?”

  Livie gave him a brief rundown of the situation—how she hadn’t been able to move forward on Janet’s research without her there to sign off on major proposals and purchases. She also told him about Langley being made Acting Chair in Janet’s absence, and her suspicions that he was somehow skimming from her grant money.

  “That fucking Langley,” Andy said. “He’s always been such a dick.”

  “Agreed.”

  Andy was quiet for a moment, thinking. Then he sat back in his chair and reached up under his glasses to rub his bloodshot eyes. “She’s not coming back, Livie.”

  She swallowed thickly. Her throat felt raw with unshed tears. “I’ve pretty much figured that out.”

  He looked so tired and grief-stricken, and suddenly Livie felt unbearably selfish. “I’m sorry, Andy. None of that stuff at school is important. Her health is all that matters now.”

  Andy smiled sadly. “Her work was the most important thing in her life. I can’t tell how much she remembers, but if she remembers that black hole research, then it’s killing her that she can’t follow through on it now.”

  “I know. It’s killing me, too. It’s not fair.”

  Andy sat forward, folding his hands together on the table. “Livie, you should know, she thought the world of you.”

  Livie’s eyes burned as she fought back tears. Janet was alive upstairs, but it felt like they were sharing condolences at her funeral. “It’s nice to hear that. Thanks.”

  “I didn’t tell you to make you feel better. You know how much this research meant to her. She was so excited when you decided to come to Adams, because she wanted you to work on it with her. Livie, it shouldn’t just die. Dad and I have been discussing it and we’re in full agreement. We want you to take her research and move forward with it. We’d thought you could do it at Adams, but it doesn’t seem like Langley’s going to let that happen. So use it to get yourself into a new program. Take the work she’s done and run with it. We’ll give you our full endorsement on Mom’s behalf. With her work, any program in the country would want you. MIT, McArthur.”

  The two programs she’d turned down to stay in Brooklyn, to go to Adams and work with Janet.

  In a flash of clarity, of miserable self-awareness, Nick’s words from their fight came back to her. She’d chosen Adams for Janet, it was true. But he was right—she’d also chosen it out of fear. All this time, she’d been convincing herself that she was getting what she wanted, when really, she was just settling for what was safe. She was passing up amazing opportunities because the prospect of change of any kind terrified her. She was such a coward.

  All her life, she’d been erecting invisible barricades for herself out of fear. And if she didn’t figure out a way to break through them, then Janet’s research would die here with her. Livie’s future would wither and die, too.

  “What if she improves and wants to be a part of it later?”

  “That’s not going to happen. We’ll be lucky if she ever gets out of that bed again. And between you and me? Langley’s going to torpedo that research any way he can, because it was Mom’s. He’s always resented her.”

  The enormity of what Andy was suggesting finally began to sink in. He wanted her to take Janet’s research to another school and carry on without her. Suddenly it felt hard to breathe.

  “But the grant money. It was hers. It was for the work.”

  He shook his head. “I can’t help you there. It’s up to Skylight if they’ll let you keep her grant. But I can tell you one thing. If Langley’s figured out a way to tap into it, he’ll make sure you never see a dime for this project as long as you’re at Adams and under his thumb.”

  Livie knew he was right. Langley would block the research at every turn. He’d make sure she never had a chance.

  “Mom would want you to move on without her, Livie. The work was always the most important thing to her, not this departmental political bullshit. Take her work and finish it. Make a name for yourself. You’re the only one who can. It would make her so proud.”

  “It’s not right that Langley is doing this.”

  Andy sighed. “No, it’s not. And if you can figure out a way to bust him for it before you go, I wouldn’t complain. She’s always hated the little shit. But I can’t waste time worrying about him now. And neither can you. Get out of here, Livie. Take care of your own future. Make something of Mom’s work, since she can’t.”

  Chapter Forty-One

  When Livie arrived home after her miserable visit with Janet, the house was quiet and empty. Dad and Gemma were at the bar and Jess was at work. There was only Spudge, crashed out in his favorite sunny spot by the back door.

  She sat down at the kitchen table, trying to process everything that had happened. Could she do it? Could she really take Janet’s research and start over someplace else? Logistically, it was probably an option. She’d been on very good terms with the dean of the Astronomy department at McArthur while she’d been applying. He still emailed her now and then, to see how her work was coming along. She was a strong candidate all on her own, but if she would be bringing Janet’s research with her? If she reached out to him and explained her situation, she suspected she’d be enrolled at McArthur and back to work when the new semester started in January.

  But was that what she wanted? To leave? To move to Colorado and start a whole new life? It was a terrifying prospect. A year ago, she’d have said absolutely not. Even considering it would have been impossible. But as she’d discovered lately, a lot had changed in the past year. She wasn’t content anymore to hide herself away where she was safe—where she’d always been safe.

  Safe had gotten her here—living at home, right where she’d started, academic career in shambles. But taking chances...she’d taken exactly one chance. She reached out for Nick instead of playing it safe. And sure, she hadn’t held on to him—that was never in the cards. But for a little while, he’d been hers, and it had changed everything. What else might happen if she quit playing it so goddamned safe all the time and took a chance?

  The daylight faded and night fell. She didn’t move to turn on any lights. She sat in the darkness and thought about her life, all the choices she’d made—and hadn’t made—that had led her to this point.

  She was still there, sitting in the dark, hours later, when Gemma and Jess returned together. They were laughing about something, some funny incident that had happened at the bar when Jess had stopped in after work.

  Gemma flipped on the kitchen light and yelped when she spotted Livie at the table.

  “Jesus Christ, Livie, you took ten years off my life. Why the hell are you sitting here in the dark?”

  “I’ve been doing some thinking.”

  Jess sat down next to her, reaching for her hand. “Is it about Nick?”

  “Ugh,” Gemma growled. “Don’t even mention that asshole’s name.”

  “It’s not about him,” Livie said. “And what happened wasn’t
his fault.”

  Gemma stomped over to the counter and retrieved wineglasses. “Excuse me? He ditched you and ran out of here so fast, you’d have thought the house was on fire. Didn’t even say goodbye. And all for some dumb job. I knew that guy was trouble. I knew he’d break your heart.”

  When she set one down in front of Livie, she didn’t bother to remind her sister that she didn’t drink. Maybe tonight she did? Why not? New Livie might do all kinds of things Old Livie would never have considered. Actually, she was looking forward to finding out all about New Livie. She took a sip of wine. It sort of sucked. Okay, New Livie still didn’t drink.

  “Gemma, I went into it with my eyes wide open. I knew exactly who he was. I knew what he was capable of and what he wasn’t. And guess what? I was right. If I got my heart broken, that’s on me. I’m not spending another minute crying over him anyway.” Would she ever feel as confident as she sounded? Teresa had told her it would happen. If she kept moving forward, focusing on her own life, her own work, her heart would eventually take care of itself, right? God, she hoped so.

  “Good for you,” Jess said fiercely.

  “I have bigger problems than some guy.”

  Gemma set her wine down. “Like what?”

  Livie filled her sisters in on everything that had been happening at school, finishing with Andy Finch’s extraordinary offer this afternoon.

  “Oh, Livie, I can’t believe this. You really think Langley’s taking the grant money?” Jess’s eyes were lit up with a familiar spark. She smelled injustice and she was ready to tear down the world to right it.

  “I can’t prove it. And if I accuse him, I doubt it’ll go anywhere. He’s now the head of the department and I’m just a grad student. He’ll probably turn it around and make me out to be some jealous underling.” Now that she’d figured him out, Langley’s actions were so clear to her. How had she ever given that asshole the benefit of the doubt?