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“We’re actually looking into doing some renovations around campus,” the dean was saying. “You can see that not much has changed here. We’re thinking a complete revamp, refitting all the classrooms and labs. Maybe even an astro-turf football field and forming a traveling team for the athletically inclined.”
“What’s stopping you?” None of the students paid either of us any mind as we were swept up in the crowd on the way to the dining hall.
“Investors,” the dean said, and I laughed at him.
“You’re having trouble shaking down the rich families of all these kids?” I asked, amused. “Or are you just trying to shake me down now that I’m within your reach?”
“You are one of our most successful alumni,” the dean said without an ounce of shame — or grace. “And your sudden visit was such a pleasant surprise that I couldn’t help but wonder if there might an opportunity for us to partner on a new project.”
I snorted. “I don’t think ‘Turgenev Field’ is going to have much of a ring to it for your new football team.”
“We can workshop the name! So, it’s sports you’re interested in?”
I ignored the dean’s blustering and stepped into the dining hall. It was alive in here, the students thriving and chatting, spread out among the tables. I remembered the table that Jonathan, Sadie, and I had monopolized for the majority of our tenure here. Especially when we were younger, it had been nearly impossible to get Jonathan to let his sister sit with us. I liked having her around because she’d usually go along with whatever we wanted or said. Plus she was a comfort — a constant presence on weekends and breaks when we could stay off campus. Mamachka always expected us three to come and stay with her, which was something of a luxury when other long-distance kids were trapped in the dorms.
“If you’re hungry for lunch, Mr. Turgenev, we can certainly go somewhere nicer than this,” the dean blustered behind me as I approached the line for food.
“When was the last time you ate at your own institution?” I asked him, taking a tray with a table setting from the beginning of the buffet.
“Oh, I’d have to check back in my planner to see when the last time was,” he said, chuckling uncomfortably. “I have so many lunch meetings with investors and businesses in the community that it’s hard to tell.”
“Just say never,” I said, serving myself from the steaming trays of food on the line. It smelled delicious — an array of roasted vegetables, fresh fruits, glazed chicken on skewers, aromatic rice, and much more. Why would this man not eat here at Tides if he had access to this level of food for all three meals every single day? This was good food.
A glance over my shoulder showed me that the dean was reluctantly filling his tray behind me.
“I thought you had a big lunch meeting off campus or something,” I said, amused.
“I’ve moved everything around,” the dean said. The man was so brazen about courting me and my money that I actually had to admire him a little bit. It had been a long time since I’d met someone as shameless as him.
I took a seat as a table cleared. My first bite of chicken was magnificent. It was perfectly crispy and tender, and the glaze was sweet with just a hint of spice. This wasn’t regular cafeteria fare. This was inspired. This was Sadie, putting her all into cooking for these kids.
This dean had no idea what he had.
“This food really is quite good,” the dean quietly marveled as he tucked in to his servings.
“Think of how good it could be if you actually devoted the proper resources to your food services operation,” I said easily. He choked on his food.
“What on earth are you talking about?”
“I have a special interest in the dining services here,” I said. “I’ve asked around — and used my connections to do some research. You have a real bargain with the current chef. She’s extremely talented. She’d be at home in the kitchens of some of the finest restaurants in the world. She needs more resources than what you’re giving her. I’m talking manpower. Better ingredients. Equipment updates.”
“Our dining services are more than adequate for our students’ needs,” the dean protested, but I put my hand up to silence him.
“Food is home,” I said. “That’s what I felt when I attended this place. “If you think you need a new athletic field over the support of existing essential services, then I’d like to have a conversation with the board of trustees about your leadership acumen.”
The dean paled. “I suppose there might be some budgetary items we could look into to see how we can support operations in here.”
“You should probably make it a priority.”
“Yes. Yes, I think that’s an excellent idea.”
“I’d like to give my compliments to the chef,” I said, looking pointedly at the dean.
“I … can go get her for you,” he said after a pause.
“You go do that.”
I finished my water and was dabbing at my mouth with my napkin when the dean came out from the kitchen beaming, leading a slightly horrified Sadie over to my table.
