Chapter Sixteen
T he arrival of students on campus always marked a hectic time of year. Many members of the faculty and staff volunteered to help the new students move into the dorm, and Thatcher was always a willing volunteer. It had been a hot day in DC, and by the time the last student had moved in, Thatcher was ready to collapse. He made his way to his office to check his e-mail one last time before heading home. Buster was probably chomping at the bit to play and to tell the truth, Thatcher could use some play time as well.
He collapsed into his chair and scanned through his e-mails. It looked like most everything could wait until Monday. Only a weekend separated him from the first official day of classes.
“Hey, man.” John stuck his head in the door. “I thought you might still be here.”
Thatcher leaned back in his chair. “Long day.”
John nodded. “I didn’t get here until a couple of hours ago. Megan’s parents are in town and we had a few things planned this morning.”
“Oh yeah? Anything fun?”
“We went and did a few touristy things. Washington Monument, Lincoln Memorial. You know the drill.” John took a seat across from the desk.
At the mention of the Lincoln Memorial, Thatcher sat upright. “Did you happen to catch any ranger talks?”
John grinned. “Nah. Why? Was your friend working today? What did he say the other day when you asked him about helping with the research?”
“Actually, it was a she I asked to help with the research.” Thatcher cleared his throat. “Her name’s Vickie.”
John raised his eyebrows. “I see. The other day when you said you’d spoken to a park ranger, I guess I just assumed it was a guy.” He looked curiously at Thatcher. “So? Is she onboard?” he asked with emphasis.
Thatcher grimaced. “Do you want to know how stupid I am?”
“Always.”
“When I first talked to her at the Lincoln Memorial, I didn’t think to tell her about the project. There were so many people around and I wanted to get out of there. You know how I hate crowds.” He shrugged. “So instead I asked her to meet me for dinner. I just figured it would take too much time to explain, plus I thought maybe if I bought her dinner it might butter her up a little bit and she’d be more likely to agree to help.”
John’s eyes widened. “How old is this Vickie person?”
“I’m terrible with guessing ages. You know that. Especially women. The female students in my freshman history classes look like they’re twenty-five and most of them aren’t a day over eighteen.” He paused. “But I’d guess that Vickie is probably in her late twenties or early thirties.”
Is she cute?”
Thatcher wrinkled his forehead. “Why do you care? It isn’t like you’re a bachelor.”
“No, but you are.”
“Whatever, man. I really messed up. I think she thought I’d asked her for a date. So when I started explaining why I’d invited her, she kind of looked angry. Then she put money on the table to pay for her food and walked out.”
John let out a low whistle. “You really have a way with the ladies.” He laughed. “Sorry. But what, exactly, makes you think that she thought it was a date?”
Thatcher sighed. “Well, first of all, she was all dressed up. In this blue dress and heels.” He shrugged. “I figured she had someplace to be later. But when I said that, she kind of got a funny look on her face. I didn’t think anything about it until she was gone and the waitress asked me where my girlfriend was.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. It was this older woman who was the waitress, and she really made me feel awful. Said that when a man asks a woman out to dinner, it’s a date unless they already have some kind of a friendship. Then she told me she saw Vickie ‘primping’ in the bathroom. Women don’t primp like that unless they think they’re on a date. . .do they?”
“Well, I agree that you need help in the figuring-out-women department. But I don’t know the answer here. Maybe she just likes to look nice.”
“Maybe.”
John grinned. “But I think I’m inclined to agree with the waitress. It sounds like your park ranger friend didn’t realize it was a business meeting.” He scratched his head. “Even so, what did she say to your offer? You think she might be willing to help out even though you kind of messed up?”
Thatcher shook his head. “Nah. She said she’d think about it, but I’d bet just about anything I never hear from her again.”
“Too bad. Hey, I may know someone who could help you. For the right price, of course.”
“That’d be good. And this time, I’ll ask over the phone. No more dinner invites.” He managed a smile.
John chuckled. “Good idea, buddy.”
∞∞∞
Thatcher opened the sliding door and stepped onto his patio. It was little more than a square of concrete, but he loved laying in his hammock and watching his dog run around the tiny yard. “Sorry about the small space, Buster-boy. We’ll go out to the cabin tomorrow morning and you’ll have two whole days to play.” The old fishing cabin had been in Thatcher’s family for years. His grandfather had left it to him when he’d died, declaring that his grandson who loved fishing as much as he had should be the new owner. Since then, it had provided Thatcher with a welcome retreat from the crowded city. It wasn’t a long drive, but it was far enough away from the traffic and noise he felt like he’d gone to another country.
Buster ran over to where Thatcher sat, dropped a chew toy in his lap and looked at him expectantly.
Thatcher laughed. “You certainly communicate well when you want to. Here you go.” He threw the toy and it bounced off the fence and landed in the yard. The dog happily ran to retrieve it.
Thatcher heard the phone ringing from inside the house. For a moment he considered letting it go to voice mail, but thought better of it. He stepped inside and grabbed the phone. “Hello.”
“Could I speak to Dr. Torrey, please?” a female voice said.
“Speaking.” He tried to place the voice, but couldn’t.
“This is Vickie Harris. From the National Park Service.” Her voice was indifferent. Almost as if she’d never even met him in person.
“Oh. Hi, Vickie. It’s nice to hear from you again. Did you think of someone who might be interested in being my research assistant?” he asked. Should he offer an apology for the other night?
“Actually, that’s why I was calling. I’ve recently found out that I’m going to be working a different shift than normal for the park service. So I’m going to have three-day weekends.”
He didn’t know where she was going with this. “Oh? That’s nice.”
“Since my work schedule has changed, I’ll have some extra time. So if you’re still in the market for an assistant, I’m available.”
“Oh, that’s great news.” He was torn. Although it was great news that he’d have someone knowledgeable helping with the research, it also happened to be someone whom he’d managed to upset. Would that make things uncomfortable between them? “I didn’t expect to hear from you again after the other night.”
Vickie was silent.
“I mean, I’m not sure what you thought about me asking you to dinner and all, but I’m really sorry if I gave you the wrong impression.” His voice wavered.
“I’m not sure what you mean. It was obviously just business.” She paused. “I apologize for rushing out like that, but I needed to be somewhere.”
He was puzzled. So the waitress had been wrong? “Okay, great. Um, are you free sometime later next week? Maybe we can get together and map out a plan. And I’ll come up with a couple of options for payment. We’ll hopefully find one that works for both of us.”
“I’ll be working late hours Monday through Thursday. I get off at eight. Is that too late for you?”
“Nope. A lot of times, I’m still at the office then anyway. Especially if I’ve found time to sneak home during the day and check on my dog.”
“Fine. How about Tuesday night? Say we meet around eight-fifteen?”
“Where?”
“Tell you what, how about we make it easy and meet at the Washington Monument? I’ll be working there that night. There are benches all the way around the monument. I’ll meet you on the side that faces the Lincoln Memorial.”
“Sounds perfect.” He chose not to express his distaste for the National Mall. Besides, now that they were nearing the end of August, maybe there wouldn’t be so many people out.
He hung up the phone and went back outside. He couldn’t wait until tomorrow. A day fishing and relaxing was just what he needed before his busy schedule kicked in next week—including Tuesday night’s meeting with Vickie.
And even though he didn’t want to, he felt a tiny pang of regret. There’d been something flattering about thinking someone like her could be interested in someone like him.