AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I hate the thought that Wanda is disappointed in me. I want to say I’ll make it right. I want to deny any wrongdoing. I want to make her love me, but I have no idea what’s happening.
“You’re not answering emails.”
Insofar as I had any expectation about the complaint, this is not what I expected.
This is about work? Library business? Was Desi the one who complained to Wanda about me?Desi?I’m shocked, honestly. She’s so good at stating her expectations, and I feel like I’ve done all that I promised. I had no idea I was a disappointment to her.
But emails? I’m totally caught up. I check every day. I’m maybe a tiny bit obsessive about it. I sit on my hands so I don’t pick up (and then drop) another bite and wait to understand what Wanda wants from me.
She takes another sip, then an excruciatingly slow bite. I swear, she chews that little mouthful of croissant at least a hundred times. When she lifts her napkin to touch the corners of her mouth, I have to look away so I don’t scream.
Just tell me,I think at her.
“Theodore B. Halverson has instructed his people to get in touch with you. And apparently you no longer access the email address he has on file for you.”
Blink. Blink.
What?
I know I’m staring, but this does not compute.
It’s not like I don’t understand the words she’s saying. I just can’t make them mean anything all put together like that.
“Theodore B. Halverson?” I ask. It’s as good a place to start as any.
“I believe you know he’s coming to perform here,” Wanda says, giving me time to pull my brain into gear.
I nod. “Dr. Moreau sent me a message about auditioning for the orchestra.”
I want to tell her I can’t do it. I want to tell her there’s no way I can sit in the pit with a few dozen other people and not lose my mind completely.
I settle for, “I don’t do orchestras anymore.”
She smiles gently. “I understand,” she says. Does she? And even if she doesn’t, that’s very kind of her to say.
But there’s more I need to clarify. “Theodore Halverson is trying to send me a message?” I ask. “And he went through you?”
She moves her plate aside and puts both elbows on the table, resting her chin on one delicate raised hand. The other hand stirs the spoon around in her tea. “I don’t know what the message is. You might be surprised to learn I can’t always get the information I want.”
She’s winking. Oh, good. A wink means she’s not angry. Or too disappointed.
“Here’s what I do know. His assistant has been sending you messages at your university email address. When you didn’t respond, he approached the chancellor’s office to speak to someone in charge of alumni affairs. That’s Michael, of course.”
Wanda is one of the only people at Chamberlain who smiles when she mentions Michael Carraway, Dr. Moreau’s assistant. I think he tries, but the guy comes off as difficult. You know, difficult to like. He’s so protective of Dr. Moreau’s time, he manages to make everyone—students and staff—feel like we’re in the way.
Wanda goes on.
“Michael is very careful with records, and would never hand out personal alumni information without express permission. He went to the chancellor, and she came to me. I decided to approach you myself.”
If I had an expectation this morning, this was not it. I take a second to track what she’s just said. Theodore B. Halverson has his assistant looking for me (why??) and when my university email goes unanswered (because obviously), he goes to the alumni records at Chamberlain. That’s not completely unreasonable.
It’s also not impossible to imagine that Michael Carraway made me the subject of a meeting with Dr. Moreau. Behind a closed door. Bizarre, but not impossible.
Wanda watches me, and after a minute she sets the spoon down in her saucer. “Do you have any idea why Theodore Halverson might need to reach you?” Wanda is still carrying herself with total propriety, which keeps me worried. She’s usually laughing and smiling and patting hands and pulling people close. This table separating us is like a gulf.
“No. None at all.” But of course, that’s not true. “Okay, maybe one idea. But I can hardly believe it might be a thing.”
“Would you mind telling me? I only ask because I’m hosting his concert here as a personal favor, and I feel like need to know if there’s a conflict within my staff.”
