12. Q&A, Part I
Tiffin Paddock Dinner Service
NYC “The Corner Store” Pop-Up Menu
STARTERS
Hot spinach-artichoke dip
Cheesy pizza rolls with marinara
SALAD
Copycat Corner Store Caesar (fried cream cheese nuggets, everything bagel croutons)
ENTRéES
French dip on homemade sourdough baguette
Lobster rolls w/ celery remoulade
Vegetarian “chicken parm”
SIDES
Hand-cut frites w/ trio of sauces (special, horseradish, avocado ranch)
DESSERT
Apple hand pies with Chantilly cream
Samoa ice cream sundae
Cordelia tells Audre that the fourth-form girls “worship” Pippa Sacks.
“The intriguing thing,” Cordelia says, “is that Pippa isn’t even on social media, and the girls still emulate her. Cassie Lee and her squad have stopped wearing makeup; they look like fresh-faced children again.”
“I suppose Pippa is an old-school influencer,” Audre says. “Didn’t you have one girl at your high school whom everyone looked up to?”
“Ashby Stamm,” Cordelia says. “I’ll never forget how Ashby wore a rainbow-swirled pocket comb in the back of her navy cords to comb her feathered hair.”
“In my class it was Tracy Monroe,” Audre says. “She wore horn-rimmed glasses, and I persuaded my mother to buy me a pair with plastic lenses because I wanted to look just like her.”
Audre and Cordelia soon learn that Pippa has exerted her influence over Chef Haz as well: Pippa persuaded Haz to re-create the menu from the hottest restaurant in New York City, the Corner Store.
Students begin lining up outside the Paddock half an hour before dinner service. When the doors open, mayhem ensues. The kids whip out their phones to take videos (the pizza rolls lend themselves to an impressive cheese pull).
Audre sits next to Cordelia and says, “I’m not sure one meal warrants this much attention.”
“You’re wrong,” Cordelia says. “I never want to eat Caesar salad again unless it has everything-seasoned croutons.”
Audre assumes she’s kidding until she takes a bite. “Oooh, and deep-fried cream cheese.”
Cordelia has selected the French dip, Audre the lobster roll.
“I looked this place up on Instagram,” Cordelia says. “The lobster roll at the Corner Store comes topped with caviar.”
“Well, we don’t have the budget for that,” Audre says. “That Chef made lobster rolls for the entire school community is alarming enough.”
“We could raise tuition,” Cordelia says. “Because I can tell you one thing: After all these pictures are posted, application numbers are going up.”
Audre wishes a mere increase in tuition were the solution to the existential crisis the school is facing, but she’s run the numbers: They would have to nearly double tuition to make up for the lost money.
“Tell me again that it’s going to be okay,” Audre says.
She has filled Cordelia in on Jesse Eastman’s exodus but is too embarrassed to tell her about the budget.
Cordelia would never have failed to complete due diligence with a budget of twenty-six million dollars in her care. She’s far too fastidious.
So, as far as Cordelia knows, the only thing they have to worry about is finding a replacement for Jesse Eastman, both as a leader and as a donor.
Unlike Audre, Cordelia is optimistic. Jesse isn’t the unicorn Audre thinks he is, Cordelia said.
Jesse is one rich and powerful alpha parent; the world is full of them.
“We’ll find someone,” Cordelia says. “Or several someones. I’m on it.
” Cordelia will take a close look at the families of the students applying this year; she’s also promised to do a deep dive into current students’ backgrounds, something that has been unnecessary—beyond their usual fundraising asks—because of Jesse.
Audre pops the last bite of lobster roll into her mouth. Cordelia’s confidence is soothing, at least temporarily.
“Dessert?” Audre asks.
“Oh, hell yes,” Cordelia says. “Bring back one of each.”
After dinner—where she flirted with the deadly sin of gluttony—Audre takes one of her strolls around campus. She likes to check in on student life, which is all the more important with Family Weekend on the horizon.
She starts at the Teddy, poking her head into the arcade, which is filled with third- and fourth-form boys, not one of whom seems to notice her.
They might not even know who she is, Audre thinks.
And if she told them she spent her youth playing Frogger and Asteroids, they would have no idea what she was talking about.
Back outside, on the path that leads to the Schoolhouse, Audre bumps into Hakeem Pryce. “Hey, Hakeem,” she says. “Where are you off to?”
Hakeem smiles. He’s an incredibly poised young man, he’ll be a credit to Tiffin at Dartmouth…
but Audre wonders how things are between him and Dub Austin.
The Thoroughbreds’ schedule is such that they’ve played only one home game, which they lost to Excelsior by more than twenty points (but then it was the first game of the year, and Excelsior had recruited well in the off-season).
Audre knows Tiffin has lost its three away games as well, against Deerfield, Andover, and Exeter, but those losses were perhaps to be expected.
Audre now feels guilty about not checking in with Coach Bosworth to make sure everything is okay.
Why hasn’t Audre asked? And why is this her first walkabout of the school year? Well, because all of Audre’s energy has been devoted to worrying about money.
They’re five weeks in, and their account has only recouped 105,000 dollars.
Oak was right—at this rate, it’ll take four or five years to get where they need to be.
And so, that very morning, Audre gave Oak the okay to invest a portion of the budget more aggressively—no crypto, but AI companies were okay.
“You’re making the right call,” Oak said. “I’m pumped. We’re going to kill it.”
Audre certainly hopes so. She would like to stop taking the account’s temperature (she checks the balance several times a day). She would like to get back to her job; the student dramas, such as what’s going on between Hakeem and Dub right now, have fallen beneath her notice.
She wonders if the Dub and Hakeem situation is more serious than she realized. Dub’s coming out didn’t ruin the friendship, did it?
Audre has Hakeem right here, by himself. She could ask him.
He says, “I was just going to meet someone…”
“Dub?” Audre says.
“No, not Dub…”
“How is Dub?”
“Uh, fine, I think?” Hakeem says.
“What about Liam Donovan?” Audre asks. “Have you gotten to know him at all?” This is another thing that she’s let fall through the cracks. Audre had meant to follow Liam Donovan’s progress at the school more closely. And has she? She has not.
“A little bit?” Hakeem says. “He’s in my physics class.”
Audre touches Hakeem’s sleeve. “Try to be a friend to him, okay? I’m sure you can imagine how difficult it would be to arrive at Tiffin as a sixth-former.”
“Definitely,” Hakeem says, nodding vigorously. Is it Audre’s imagination or does Hakeem look uncomfortable? Well, of course he looks uncomfortable. Who wants to bump into the Head of School alone on a school path after dark? No one, that’s who.
“Thank you, Hakeem. Have a good night.”
“You too!” Hakeem says, hurrying away.
A second later, Audre bumps into Taylor Wilson on the path. She’s so intent on wherever she’s going that she doesn’t see Audre until the last minute, so there’s a jump scare.
“Ms. Robinson! Hi!”
“Didn’t mean to frighten—”
“No, no, it’s fine…”
“You are… Where are you headed?”
“I’m… trying to get my steps in before study hall.”
Taylor Wilson’s mother, Kathy, is one of the people Jesse Eastman suggested to succeed him.
(Taylor has a younger brother who will be attending Tiffin the following year, so Kathy agreed to another term.) Kathy would fill the leadership void, though it’s doubtful she’d take the financial position that Jesse did.
“I don’t blame you,” Audre says, patting her midsection. “Chef outdid himself.”
“Those apple hand pies were just wrong,” Taylor says.
Audre laughs. “That’s what I’m talking about. Have a good night, Taylor.”
Audre is almost to the door of the Sink when it dawns on her that Hakeem and Taylor were meeting each other. They were going to have sex on the Harkness tables in the Schoolhouse.
Audre sighs. Should she go to the Schoolhouse and conduct a search, or text Mr. James and ask him to check?
Once upon a time, Audre would have considered two students meeting up to fornicate on a classroom table a big deal—but no longer. And Audre can’t risk alienating Kathy Wilson.
Instead, Audre decides to slip through the Sink, then go home for a splash of red wine.
Audre enters the Mary Tiffin Sinclair Library as the chapel bells chime eight. She’s preceded in by a slew of fifth-formers, though Audre is chagrined by how few of these students she knows by name. She must remedy this—but not tonight.
On the first floor by the circulation desk, Audre sees Liam Donovan at a table with Ruth Wully, who is serving as a special adviser.
She overhears Liam asking if there’s a dentist close to campus.
“Yes, Dr. Kita in Haydensboro,” Ruth says. “Do you have a toothache?”
“No,” Liam says. “I just haven’t been to the dentist since fifth grade.”
Audre closes her eyes for a brief second.
It’s time to admit that the reason Audre hasn’t checked in with Liam is because his background makes her uncomfortable.
She’s afraid of saying the wrong thing, asking the wrong question, flaunting her privilege, demonstrating her ignorance.
Liam’s circumstances are wildly different from the average Tiffin student’s; for that reason, he belongs here, they need him here—but Audre is intimidated.
She’s still haunted by the image of him showing up with his possessions in a trash bag.
No, Audre won’t let herself feel this way. Liam is an inspiration. (Is thinking this patronizing? She isn’t sure.) What she is sure of is that she will secure Liam a dental appointment as soon as possible.