So, no. It isn’t going badly. But it’s also distractinghimmore than he anticipated, because he spends too much time worrying the other students are distracted.
“Let’s just say that if I have a few more gray hairs by the end of the quarter, you’ll know why.”
“It wouldn’t be because you’re up for tenure?” Sam asks with a lift of his eyebrows. Incidentally, he was granted tenure fifteen years ago and sports a full head of salt-and-pepper hair.
“That too.”
Before the quarter started, Nick got a letter informing him he was on track, with his annual review scheduled for the spring. He wants to be excited about it, and he is—but he’s spent so many years working toward it, and for most of them, he assumed he’d be celebrating with Kathryn.
“You already have such a strong case,” says Fumiko, who became tenured last spring. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”
Just before the quizmaster comes on the mic to announce the final scores, his phone buzzes in his pocket, and then he’s leaping out of his seat, telling his friends to let him know if they snagged first place.
Audrey:not spending the night anymore. can you pick me up now?
—
Audrey doesn’t say a wordthe entire drive home, but once they get into the house, she collapses onto the couch and hugs a blanket around herself.
“I’m thrilled you had such a great time,” Nick says, pocketing his keys and flipping on the lights.
“Don’t try to make me laugh,” Audrey calls from the couch.
“Afraid it might work?”
Audrey lets out a groan, grabbing a pillow and shoving her face into it—then, realizing her glasses are in the way, flings them onto the coffee table before trying again. When she speaks, her voice is muffled. “It’s nothing,” he thinks she says. “I’m just being dramatic.”
“Good. I love drama.” He heads for the kitchen, opens up the pantry. “I also love hot chocolate. And mini marshmallows.”
Audrey doesn’t say anything, but he can tell he’s got her. It’s ten thirty, technically past her weekend bedtime, but he’s sure Lexi would understand a hot chocolate emergency.
As he takes out a saucepan and bar of dark chocolate, he’s aware of her poking her head up from the couch, as though wanting to make sure he isn’t doing anything she wouldn’t approve of in the kitchen she considers hers.
“I’ve been listening to your breakup playlist,” he calls out as he chops the chocolate. “Some good stuff on there. I didn’t think you even knew Fleetwood Mac.” But there was “Silver Springs,” sandwiched between Gracie Abrams and Tate McRae.
He also didn’t anticipate hearing a Ramona Wilder song. It came on during his morning commute, and he was so startled by the artist ID that he forgot to flash his blinker on a turn. Her voice was dark honey, a catchy melody with sharp edges and even sharper words. When he tried to match the sound to the defiant girl in his office that first day, he could almost see it.
“I have taste,” Audrey calls back, and Nick has to hide a laugh.
He’s always loved kids and imagined having them was a “someday” kind of thing; Kathryn had felt the same. But every time they discussed it, they never quite felt ready.Not yet,she’d say.We have to finish redoing the deck.OrWe should paint the house first.And then the next year, he was being promoted from assistant to associate professor. The past few years, neither of them brought it up proactively, and he’s beginning to think it’s because they could no longer picture having kidstogether.
But sometimes his heart aches a little, seeing Lexi with Audrey, or hearing his colleagues talk about their children.
When that rich chocolatey scent starts filling the room, Audrey’s head pops up again. “You’re supposed to heat the milk before adding the chocolate,” she says, and whoops, she’s probably right. “But I guess it can be good your way, too. Thank you.”
Audrey sits up on the couch when he brings over two steaming mugs topped with whipped cream and miniature neon marshmallows.
“I’m sorry I texted.” She stares down into her mug. “I didn’t want to bother you while you were out with your nerd friends.”
Nick takes a seat next to her and sips his own hot chocolate. “You could never bother me, Aud. Uncles have to swear an oath the day their nieces are born that they will always be available when needed.”
“It’s going to sound so middle school.”
“That tracks, given that you are in middle school.”
“But I hate being a cliché!” Finally, she looks up at him, her eyes wide but thankfully not glassy. “So we got there for the sleepover and Chloe’s parents ordered pizza, and everything was fine. I could feel my allergies acting up but I hadn’t brought any medication with me, so Chloe told me to go ask her parents. They were sitting in the kitchen, trying to stay out of our way and all, which was really nice of them. And after they gave me some Benadryl, they started asking me about school, and about cooking, and they’re really cool, actually. Mrs.Valencia is a sommelier, so she knows a lot about flavor profiles, and Mr.Valencia is a producer at an indie record label.” She gives Nick a long-suffering look. “I can’t help it that Chloe’s parents are more interesting than she is.”
He has to chew back a laugh, because on paper, it’s an amusing statement. He also wonders if Audrey is the only thirteen-year-old who knows what a sommelier is. Long ago he vowed to treat her problems as seriously as she did—because that was how they felt at that age, wasn’t it? “So you spent most of the night hanging out with Chloe’s parents instead of with her.”
