34. Beggin’ Like Beckham
34
Beggin’ Like Beckham
Wanda and I stand outside the office doors.
“I can do this alone,” I say to her.
“I know, but what kind of best friend would I be if I couldn’t figure out what you were planning? You need someone in your corner, so what’s the plan?”
“Beg.” I push open the doors and step inside Dean Perez’s outer office.
“This place is swank,” Wanda says, looking around at the gleaming wood.
Michael glances up from his screens momentarily. His fingers are a blur as he continues to type at rapid speed. “Bobby Ashton. Dean Perez is not expecting you.”
“I know,” I say. “But I really need to see him.”
“Do you game?” Wanda asks, eyes transfixed on Michael. “You could join my quest any day.”
“No,” Michael says, smiling. “If you want to tell me what this is regarding, I can set up an appointment. I’m sure you understand the dean is rather busy at this time of year.”
“Send them in, Michael,” says Dean Perez from the door to his office, his phone in his hand. “And fix this ludicrous device again.” He plunks the phone down on the edge of the desk.
“Dean Perez will see you now.” Michael sighs. “And there goes today’s schedule.”
“You I have a vague memory of,” Dean Perez says as I take the same seat as last time. “But I don’t believe we’ve met,” he says to Wanda. “Although there’s a good chance I’ve forgotten. I’m terrible at placing names and faces. You are?”
“Wanda Lee.” Wanda holds out her hand.
“That doesn’t ring a bell. Who are you?”
“I’m Bobby’s best friend.”
Dean Perez continues to stare at Wanda.
“I live upstairs from him,” she continues. “I’m enrolled as a freshman for the fall semester.” Wanda’s voice raises at the end of her sentences as if she’s asking questions.
“I suppose that answers who you are. I should have asked why you’re here.”
Wanda gives me a sidelong glance. I should have warned her Dean Perez is offbeat.
“She came for moral support,” I say.
“Ok, gotcha.” He picks up his Rubik’s Cube. “No offense, but you’re like an emotional support animal. Except, human, of course.” He absentmindedly starts twisting the toy.
We both know what the dean said is offensive and dehumanizing, but one look at each other trying not to laugh has Wanda and me giggling.
Wanda composes herself before I do. “You know there are proven techniques to solve those.”
“I’m not actively trying to solve it. I believe if I twist the pieces around enough, eventually it will work itself out.” Dean Perez keeps rotating the cube. “I’ve found it to be a very stress-relieving approach. For example, I knew the replacement Bobby wasn’t going to be good for the Reading Festival. Lo and behold, I hear the original Bobby is back. The other girl is rather stress-inducing. Smug sort of thing. Is that why you’re here? The festival?”
“Not exactly,” I say, taking the tiniest pleasure in being compared to Evie in this way. “There’s been a small setback with the statue.”
“That sounds stressful,” Dean Perez remarks as he keeps twisting the pieces of the cube.
“There was an accident with the glass.”
“Another one? Most unfortunate. I hope Cass is figuring out a solution. As a fan of her work, I can say she’s rather brilliant.”
“She is. But we need more time. Is there any way we could get an extension?”
Dean Perez puts the Rubik’s Cube down in front of him and holds his hands, palms together, in front of him. “This isn’t an essay. The piece was bequeathed to the university to be unveiled during the closing of the festival.”
“Couldn’t we just do it in another week? Before Shakespeare in the Park?”
Dean Perez shakes his head. “Absolutely not. We’ve already made arrangements and advertised. It’s on the programming schedule. The entire town has signs and banners and posters.” Dean Perez picks up the cube again and begins rapidly twirling the pieces in his hands. “I’m sorry, Bobby. There can’t be a delay. I must be firm.”
“But the statue may not be stable. It’s glass. I’m sure the university doesn’t want the liability of someone getting hurt.”
“Your mother will figure it out,” Dean Perez says. He holds up the cube. “See. One side is completely red. That’s one-sixth solved. Things have a way of working themselves out.”
“But Dean Perez …”
He stands and motions us toward the door. “Thank you for stopping in. I’m delighted you’re working on the Reading Festival again, Mr. Ashton.”
Dean Perez walks us to his office door and says, “I do hope you’ll both remind me of who you are again next time we meet. My bad memory is a real problem. You see, I meet so many interesting people in this job and I find it difficult to retain them all. Speaking of”—Dean Perez shakes my hand—“do give your mother my warmest regards. I’ll never forget meeting the Cass Ashton. She’s really something special. Such a unique woman.” With that, Dean Perez closes his office door with us outside it.
“He’s the one who runs this place?”
Michael looks up from his computer with a smirk as the intercom crackles to life.
“Michael, did you get that blasted phone working?”