Chapter 34
COLE
“Not bad, Chef Porter.”
I didn’t crave sweets, but I wasn’t about to pass up chocolate chip cookies either. I took another bite, watching Jules as she ate. She took the tiniest bites, and I dearly wished I were a cookie at that moment.
“You did most of the baking,” Juliette said.
I glanced around the kitchen, my eyes landing on the window. The rain hadn’t let up, and now one hell of a storm was rolling through. I’d like to think I would’ve checked the weather before our hike, but my mind hadn’t been coherent today, and the cookie-making contest didn’t help.
“I love the sound of rain,” Juliette sighed. “Especially when I’m writing.”
“So you’ve got the book, part-time teaching at Cedar, tutoring, and freelance writing gigs. That’s a lot on your plate.”
Her smile, genuine and open, pulled me in.
“I’ve kind of pieced together a career of things I like to do.
I call it the gig life. The goal is to make some money off the book and drop tutoring, which is my least favorite.
The free lunch subs are fine because I can pick and choose.
And I love teaching, but I’m not sure I’d want to do it full-time even if a position opened. ”
We reached for a second cookie at the same time. When our fingers brushed, sensation rushed back through me. I loved touching her. Kissing her.
I pulled my hand back and grabbed a different cookie.
“So,” she said carefully, “we’re going to talk about you and tenure?”
“Not much to say. As I see it, I have two options. Take it, settle into big city life, do my research, teach my classes, and come back home when the noise gets to me.”
Juliette grabbed both our water glasses and refilled them at the sink.
“And the other option?”
“Not accepting it would be a one-way exit from Columbia. I’d be out of a job, looking for a teaching position somewhere else. Maybe closer to home.”
“Is that something you’re actually considering?”
The note of hope in her voice made my chest tighten.
“It’s always been an option. Mason even asked the history department chair at Hobart and William Smith to let him know if an opening came up. Apparently the guy’s been coming to Heritage Hill with his wife for over twenty years.”
I promised myself no more than one or two cookies, but my hand had other plans. Warm chocolate, rain on the windows, and Juliette’s flushed cheeks made a third feel justified.
“And? Did anything come of it?”
“Actually, yes. Their oldest faculty member retired last year. I thought about applying for about five seconds and then didn’t.”
“Why?”
“The shitstorm that would’ve followed. I had no desire to deal with it.”
I pictured sitting across from my parents, telling them I’d turned down tenure at Columbia. My mother would look at my father, the way she always did. As much as they hated each other, she still deferred to him.
“Talk to me,” Juliette said gently. “Say it out loud.”
I wanted to. The words stuck anyway.
“Everyone blames themselves,” I finally said.
“I was closest to him. I should’ve seen it coming.
My mother knew he wasn’t happy, but she didn’t understand how bad it was.
My father…” I stopped, chest tight. Closed my eyes.
Breathed. “He lost his protégé. They had a bond I’ll never have with him.
And I thought… if I stepped into his footsteps, made my father proud, he’d go easier on my mom. ”
Juliette reached across the table, hands on either side of the cookie plate. I took them without thinking.
“He’s old-fashioned,” I continued. “My mother doesn’t push back. Their marriage is a one-way street. I don’t know why I ever thought I could fix it.”
“I’m not qualified to tell you how to get rid of guilt,” Juliette said quietly. “But your parents’ marriage isn’t your responsibility. You know that. So whatever decision you make should be yours.”
She squeezed my hands.
It should’ve reassured me. Instead, my thoughts jumped to Friday. To my fall schedule. To tenure.
I let go.
Stood.
Walked to the window.
The rain tapped harder now, impatient against the glass.
I hated my father.
I felt her before I heard her. Juliette stood behind me, not touching. Just there.
“You don’t have to talk,” she said softly.
That nearly broke me.
“I don’t even know where I’d start.”
“Then don’t,” she said. “Just don’t disappear.”
My phone buzzed on the table.
I didn’t look.
I closed my eyes instead, rain and cookies and a life I hadn’t planned pressing in from all sides.
And for the first time, I wasn’t sure which one scared me more.