Chapter Thirty-Four
A chilly wind whipped off Lake Erie. Alexandre clutched his jacket tighter and stepped up his pace. Ahead, the glassy Cleveland convention center beckoned with warm light.
Alexandre smiled ruefully at the sign. He still wasn’t thrilled about being there. Just when he was committing to his new life, he was being thrown back into his old one.
At the check-in table, Alexandre received his name tag and a pom-pom winter hat with knitted zebrafish on the rim. He snapped a selfie in the hat and sent the photo to Mei.
Now I’m ready for this.
Mei’s reply sounded on his phone.
Ready to make a splash at your LAST zebrafish conference ever! Peace, Danio rerio!
Alexandre laughed at Mei’s use of the scientific name for zebrafish. Spirits buoyed, he pocketed his phone and walked to the auditorium for the welcome session.
· · ·
Alexandre fell into his conference routine with ease. He attended the keynote and specialized tracks in the morning, networked during poster sessions, and caught up with former colleagues over coffee.
As he’d planned, and despite his name tag saying “University of Oregon,” Alexandre referred to himself as a SUNY New Paltz professor. At first, he was hesitant and—he hated to admit—embarrassed. But as the day went on, he found himself standing up straighter and speaking with pride.
“You had the right idea, getting out,” said Ethan, one of Alexandre’s past collaborators from Yale. “The grind is getting old. I still haven’t made tenure and don’t see it happening anytime soon. Between you and me, I’ve taken a few meetings with pharma recruiters.”
“I’m transitioning to teaching, too,” said Michelle, another of Alexandre’s former contacts. She’d been a research scientist at Rutgers for years. “I’m starting at Williams this fall. I’ve always wanted to live in the Berkshires.”
All that shame and despair for nothing, Alexandre thought as he waited in line for lunch.
· · ·
On Wednesday morning, halfway through the mobility breakout session, Alexandre strode onto the low stage and faced the audience.
“I’m Dr. Alexandre Brodeur from the University of Oregon.” Saying the name of his former employer jarred him, though he didn’t let on. “Today I’m presenting a comparative study on the influence of five common mutations on midlife adult zebrafish.”
Fifteen minutes always passed quickly, though Alexandre had learned to pace his talk so he could get through the methodology, results, and conclusion.
During the five-minute Q&A, Alexandre tried not to roll his eyes while answering the egomaniacal questions that were typical at every conference: “No, I did not read your Science article that came out this morning.” “I’m not familiar with the Ebola research you published five years ago, but from what you describe, it’s not quite relevant to mobility and aging. ”
My students ask better questions, Alexandre thought as he left the stage.
· · ·
Alexandre reclined against the wooden headboard of his hotel bed and smiled when Mei appeared on his phone. Her eyes looked tired but brightened when she saw him.
“You called at the right time,” she said. “I’m in between sprints.”
Alexandre frowned. “Is Sprint Week a startup thing or just a Livin thing?”
“Who knows?” A few of Livin’s marketing teams missed their January goals, so Erika was making Mei and her colleagues do sprints every night for a week. They had to log on from eight to nine, then ten to eleven, to crank out as much work as they could. “It’s brutal.”
“Hopefully you’ll be gone soon.”
“Well, actually…” A grin crept across Mei’s face. “Pure made me an offer today.”
“Congratulations! Are you happy with it?”
“Yes. The salary is a bump up from what I’m making, and I already asked for more. They came back to me two hours later and said they could do it.”
“Are you going to take it?” Alexandre held his breath.
Mei nodded. “I’m giving my notice tomorrow.”
“YES!” Alexandre leapt up from the bed.
Mei laughed at his reaction. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“You deserve all the credit. You got the interview and wowed them with your talent.” He sighed wistfully. “I wish I were there with you.”
“I wish you were, too. How’s the conference?”
“Kind of like a high school reunion. Being here reminds me of who I used to be, with people from that part of my life. I’ll be happier when I’m home.
” Alexandre took in the graceful curve of Mei’s lips, the slight flush in her cheeks.
“I can’t wait to see you,” he said quietly.
Alexandre hoped Mei could see the tenderness in his eyes, the feelings he couldn’t say just yet.
Not over a video call from a budget hotel in Cleveland.
Affection flowed from Mei’s gaze, warming Alexandre to his core. “Me too,” she said.
· · ·
Alexandre waited by the conference center entrance, occasionally waving to a passing colleague. With the symposium winding down, people were beginning to depart. Alexandre adjusted his backpack on his shoulder. He was heading to the airport after this last coffee meeting.
He’d run into Chris Saunders a few times during the conference.
His old mentor had been hurrying from one engagement to another, so each encounter had been brief and cordial—just enough time for Alexandre to share that he was now at SUNY New Paltz, and for Chris to say that he’d left UChicago for the University of North Dakota.
Alexandre was shocked. Chris had been tenured at UChicago for as long as he’d known him.
So when Alexandre had woken up to an email from Chris this morning, asking if they could meet for coffee, he assumed Chris would tell him the whole story.
Alexandre spotted his former mentor’s bald head, bushy white beard, and circular glasses. He walked over, and they exchanged a hearty handshake.
“So you’re now at the University of North Dakota?” Alexandre asked once they were seated at a café a few blocks away.
“One year, as of May,” Chris said. “You’re now at SUNY New Paltz?”
“Since the fall.”
“They have a research program?” Chris’s tone was curious, not condescending, which Alexandre appreciated.
“No, I’m teaching now.” Alexandre caught himself before saying “just teaching,” a reflex that filled him with self-loathing.
“Got it.” Chris cocked his head. “So you’re not doing research now. But do you have any interest in picking up where you left off? Starting fresh at a new lab?”
A sick feeling unspooled in Alexandre’s stomach. He’d known, deep down, that this was why Chris wanted to meet. He just hadn’t let himself imagine how the conversation might play out. “Why? Are you hiring?”
“I am. What do you think about North Dakota?”
“I, um, well, I’ve never been there.” Or ever really thought about it.
Chris laughed. “Sorry. Let me back up. You’re probably wondering why I left UChicago. World-class university. Tenure. I was set for life.”
Well, how nice for you. Alexandre swallowed his resentment and nodded.
“I still have a good ten, fifteen years before retiring, though. I didn’t have the university’s support for the kind of research I wanted to do.
They blocked me at every turn. In the end, I had a choice: ride out my time there knowing I’d never reach my full potential. Or pursue my dream elsewhere.”
Alexandre smiled wryly. “I get that. I didn’t switch to teaching for those exact reasons, but there are some parallels.”
“I had a hunch. It’s a common predicament, as you know. Anyway, I put out feelers. I learned that UND is building up their biology department. They want to make it competitive with the top programs. That’ll take time, of course. But they needed someone to run with that vision.”
Alexandre raised his eyebrows. “That’s huge. I can’t think of a better person than you.”
“Thank you.” Chris smiled. “Our new lab opens in May: a six-thousand-tank facility with robotic feeding and cleaning systems. State-of-the-art equipment. I’ve also secured funding for the next few years.”
“Wow.” Chris had just described every scientist’s dream. “And you’re hiring.”
“I am.” Chris sat back, satisfied. “I’m looking for a few tenure-track professors, like yourself, to help me establish UND as a research powerhouse. I want your work on genetics, mobility, and aging to be a cornerstone of this department.”
“I’m flattered you thought of me.” Alexandre barely found his voice.
“You know I’ve always been a fan of your work. I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch these last few years. It’s been a real whirlwind with job hunting, wrapping up my life in Chicago, and relocating to North Dakota while diving right into my new position.”
“I was doing the same with moving to New York.” All this time, Alexandre assumed he’d fallen out of contact with Chris, when his mentor was undergoing a similar life transition.
“I imagine you’re pretty settled at New Paltz now.” Chris leaned forward in his seat. “But is there any chance you’d be interested in applying to UND?”
“Where, exactly, is UND?” Alexandre choked out.
Chris laughed. “Grand Forks. Right on the state line with Minnesota. Eighty miles north of Fargo, eighty miles south of the Canadian border. Nice little city. A beautiful greenway along the Red River.”
Alexandre sipped his coffee. Chris was offering him a chance to fulfill the dream he’d chased his entire life.
The dream that still lingered in the depths of his mind.
At UND, he’d be set up for success in a way he’d never been, with funding, a new lab, and his mentor, who’d always seen the best in him.
He could make tenure in five years. Seven, max.
He could go back to work/life balance after that. Hopefully.
Alexandre thought of Dr. Johnson and his New Paltz students.
Could he leave them already? Alexandre’s heart sank further, picturing Luc, Ali, and Kaia.
He’d be back to seeing them once a year, if that.
Weeklong vacations to places like Hawai‘i would be out of the question.
Not with tenure on the line, and his career dependent on every experiment, publication, grant, and conference—plus, thousands of live zebrafish.
Mei’s face appeared in his mind. He could kiss any future with her goodbye if he took the UND job.
Alexandre would never be able to afford frequent flights to New York, and he doubted Mei would move to Grand Forks.
In the unlikely event she did, she’d be miserable, away from her sister, all the career opportunities in New York, and the city’s energy that was so vital to her spirit.
All the while, he’d never see her. He’d always be working.
Then there was their pact. Mei was quitting Livin today. How would she feel if he came home and told her he was pursuing a tenure-track research job? In North Dakota.
“It’s a lot to think about,” Chris said.
Alexandre set down his coffee. A rush of anger surged through him, surprising Alexandre with its ferocity.
Why wasn’t this UND job available when he desperately needed a lifeline?
When it came to his research career, why was he always at the wrong place at the wrong time, making decisions that never turned out well?
I’m done. Alexandre huffed. He’d come to this conference to slam the door shut on his old life, and now he was going to do exactly that.
He turned back to his old mentor’s kind face. “I really appreciate you thinking of me, Chris. But I’m not interested in the job.”