12. Q&A, Part I #3
“A free press is the cornerstone of democracy,” Coop says. “You’re very welcome.”
When Pippa takes Liam’s hand, Audre’s head spins.
Liam does have a friend, apparently. Pippa Sacks.
Is this real? Pippa is the definition of cosmopolitan, and Liam hasn’t been to a dentist in seven years.
Audre knows she should be happy their backgrounds don’t matter…
but instead, she gets the Feeling—and the Feeling is never wrong.
Something about the coupling is off. She might even use the word “doomed.”
She’s so tired and stressed—she has to get home!—that she forgets to time a discreet exit from the stacks and instead runs smack into Coop.
“Audre!” he says. “What are you doing here?”
She winks at him. (Winks!) “Well, Dr. Coopersmith, it is my school.” As soon as the words are out, she worries they sound haughty and self-important, and so she laughs to show that she’s kidding, she’s kidding!
“I like to make the rounds every once in a while, see what the students are up to in the evenings.” She pauses. “You’re here late?”
“I agreed to be interviewed for the student newspaper.”
“You’re kind to spare the time,” Audre says. “I’m sure you’d prefer to be home.”
“To be honest,” Coop says, “my apartment can get a bit lonely at night.”
“Maybe next year, you should apply to be a dorm parent,” Audre says. (She’s being facetious but also not; at some point, Roy Ewanick has to be replaced.) “Then you’ll never get a minute to yourself.”
“Well, I wouldn’t go that far.” Coop chuckles. “Where are you headed? I’ll walk with you.”
“Oh, no need, I’m just heading back to the Residence.”
“That’s on my way,” Coop says. He holds open the door for Audre, and as she thanks him, her cheeks blaze.
She will now have to engage the man in conversation without letting him know that she was listening in on the interview.
Pippa was natural and easy with him—can’t Audre be too?
He’s lonely. He’s open to falling in love again.
Audre is secretly glad he’s spending his evenings on campus and not down at the Alibi chatting up some random Haydensboro divorcée.
If he did start dating someone, Audre admits, she would be a little heartbroken—and what does that say?
“How are you settling in?” Audre asks. Before he can answer, she adds, “I should have checked in with you before now, I’m sorry. I hope you know you can always come to me if you have questions or concerns.”
“I have neither,” Coop says. “I’m happy to report it’s been smooth sailing. I find the kids bright and engaged, but what’s remarkable is how happy they all seem. At St. Mike’s, so much of our discourse about the kids concerned their anxiety and depression. I haven’t seen much of that here.”
“We’re pretty vigilant,” Audre says. (This reminds her that her inbox contains an email from Dr. Pringle, letting Audre know he’ll be coming to Tiffin once a week to meet with Tilly Benbow.
Something is going on with her, though Dr. Pringle can’t disclose what.) “I’m not sure if Cordelia mentioned this to you during your initial interview, but we lost a student the spring before last, a girl who was beloved by everyone.
She died by suicide in her dorm room. It affected us all tremendously. ”
Coop stops in his tracks and turns to her. They’re at the darkest part of the walk, midway between the Sink and the Manse, equidistant between lampposts. “I am so sorry, Audre,” he says. “That must have been… unspeakably difficult.”
Tears spring unbidden to Audre’s eyes. Finding Cinnamon barricaded in her room and the ensuing chaos—the paramedics arriving, the girls in Classic South screaming—was the most horrific moment of Audre’s life, but what makes her even more emotional is thinking about the aftermath: Dub Austin crying through his eulogy, the kids in black emerging two by two from the chapel as the bells tolled sixteen times, once for every year Cinnamon had been alive, the pile of wildflower bouquets outside the door of 111 South.
Audre can’t believe she’s been fretting so much about money when she has lost something far, far more precious. She’ll try to be mindful of this moving forward.
“Oh, Audre,” Coop says, opening his arms. “Can I offer you a hug?”
Audre doesn’t think about how it would look if anyone came upon them; she just instinctively steps into Coop’s embrace and lets herself weep for a moment.
“I can’t believe I’m crying about this now,” she says into the lapel of Coop’s beautiful jacket.
Coop smells good, of course he does—the scent is pine cones with notes of woodsmoke and toasted walnuts.
(She smiles at her own absurdity.) “It’s just…
I’ve had a long day. All my days are long.
I have things weighing… I’m just tired, I think.
” She sniffles, and although she doesn’t want to, she gently pulls back so she can wipe at her eyes.
“Well then, let’s get you home,” Coop says. He offers her his arm like he’s an old-fashioned gentleman caller, and Audre takes it.