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“Uh huh.” Mara murmured, not sounding convinced.
Fuck. I take it back. Caffeine, then nap, maybe a potent drink. Or all three.
“Well, I don’t mean to be rude,” Fern looked around her apartment, “but can I help you with something? I didn’t expect the department to be so…welcoming.”
“Yes! Dr. Welsh wanted to invite you to his office this afternoon to meet him properly. And the rest of the staff, actually.”
“Today?” Fern grimaced. The idea of having to put on her ‘people face’ to meet all her new colleagues in a few hours made her miserable.
I didn’t even agree to see Finley today, let alone my boss and other strangers. Strangers whom I’d like to make a good impression on, God forbid.
“If you don’t have any other plans.” Mara shrugged. “I don’t think anyone would blame you if you’d like to get settled instead.”
“You don’t think?” Fern raised an eyebrow, catching something in Mara’s tone. The researcher smirked.
“Let’s just say that I’ve worked for Dr. Welsh for a long time, and he can be rather…pedantic.”
“Pedantic?” Fern grunted in response.
Mara nodded. “He can be…a lot. Dr. Welsh is probably the only person who would get off an international flight and be prepared to rub elbows with new people.”
“It sounds like he should’ve been a politician,” Fern groaned, rubbing her temples as her migraine increased.
“He dabbled in it for a while.”
“Good for him.” Fern grabbed her phone out of her bag and checked the time. “What time do you need me?”
Mara smiled sympathetically and made her way towards the door. “4 p.m., in Dr. Welsh’s office. Go to the anthropology building. The secretary will point you in the right direction.” Fern cringed.
There were a lot of reasons that she studied magic, especially dead magic. There was nothing she wanted to do less than go to a party by herself and make small talk with colleagues. Mara seemed to sense her frustration.
“If you’d like, I’d be happy to swing back by your apartment and pick you up?”
A little of the anxiety in Fern’s chest unraveled. She was a fairly confident person, but she’d much rather walk into a get-together with one person she somewhat knew.
“That’d be great, thanks.” Fern smiled.
“See you soon!” Mara tossed up her hand in a wave and pulled the door shut behind her. She vanished almost as quickly as she had come.
As soon as she watched the door close, Fern sank down on the small couch with a sigh. She hadn’t even surveyed the entire apartment yet. She had two hours until she needed to be ready to meet her colleagues—and her boss.
“This is already off to a great start,” Fern groaned, pushing herself off the couch and towards the en suite. “I guess it’ll be a shower, then nap, and then caffeine… After this get-together, one strong drink.”
* * *
Fern studied her reflection in the mirror. She didn’t look like someone who had flown across the Atlantic that morning. At least, she didn’t think so. She pulled her tight brunette curls away from her face. She normally didn’t use makeup, but she applied a little mascara so her eyes looked a bit more alert.
People had always told Fern that she looked like her mother. When she was a child, she never saw it. After her mother passed away, it was all she could see. It took weeks before Fern could look at her own reflection without bursting into tears. They had the same gently sloping nose and warm smile. Her father always called it an “innkeeper’s smile” that could melt the cold off any frozen traveler.
“You’re doing this for you,” Fern encouraged herself, practicing her smile a few times. Even though Saoirse was a grown woman and Finley lived in Edinburgh, Fern had an extraordinary amount of guilt in pursuing her doctorate. She was thirty-two now. It had been fourteen years since she’d taken responsibility for her siblings.
That’s fourteen years of putting yourself in last place. She tried to shake the thought free.
“Besides,” she started whispering to herself aloud, “you don’t have to make friends. You’re here to get started on your research.” Fern continued to move around the apartment, collecting her things from different suitcases and tossing them in her bag—keys, wallet, umbrella.
At 4 p.m. and not a second earlier, the doorbell rang. Fern gave herself one last check in the mirror and opened the door, stepping out onto the sidewalk.
“Hey, you clean up quick,” Mara winked at her as they turned toward campus. Fern looked down at the simple black jumpsuit she had thrown on.
