13. Ned
NED
Ned doesn’t belong at Newbury. He knows it, the students walking past on the sidewalk know it, and surely Beverly knows it too, as she waits somewhere inside this enormous, impressive building for Ned to make a fool of himself.
Ned takes a breath. He has to walk in there. He’s going to walk in there.
He absolutely doesn’t want to walk in there. He wants to rush back across the city to his office and his job and have it be there for him next year and the year after and all the years after that.
Abbot parks down the street from where Ned found a spot and walks over, all long legs and perfectly tailored suit. Salt crunches under Ned’s dress shoes, and he tries to avoid the muck of slush. The last thing he needs today is added nerves about wet, stained pant cuffs.
Abbot, of course, is impeccable, his coat tightly buttoned against the cold, his scarf tucked high around his neck, his shoes shiny like he doesn’t have to pick his way down this same sidewalk. Polished and professional in a way Ned certainly doesn’t feel, sweating in his coat.
“You made it.” Ned indulges in a quick kiss. He wants more, but they can spend tonight together at least, before Abbot has to drive back tomorrow.
How the hell do you two manage Portland to Boston?
?? Pat has texted him more than once these last few weeks.
Like this, Ned has tried to explain to him.
Miserably and eking out time together when they can get it, even if it means Peggy across the hall and his parents down it, moving quietly beneath the blankets with a carefulness to their reaching hands that drives Ned a little wild, and not in a good way.
He straightens his jacket. “Do I look alright?”
“Of course you do.”
“I’m nervous.”
“You’ll do great. It’s not even a formal interview, just a conversation.”
I don’t want to do this, Ned nearly says. He’ll work as an adjunct lecturer somewhere. Bounce between campuses, teaching a course here and another one there, patching together an income.
And languish like that, with no health insurance or retirement or job security, knocked off tenure track and never managing to climb back on again.
Peggy, he thinks. He stood with Abbot once and thought of her, nausea clawing in his gut at what he was making himself do.
So, alright then. He’ll get through this meeting, whether he likes it or not, and at least he has Abbot here with him.
Abbot, who doesn’t want to be here either, Ned is sure.
Ned touches his hand, tangling their fingers together before letting go. “How’re you doing?”
“Fine.”
He definitely doesn’t want to be here either. Abbot’s been fine every time Ned has asked, and apparently continues to be, which will only make this meeting more fun.
The building feels oppressive as Ned starts up the stone steps.
Inside is even more so, a towering entrance hall and a sweeping staircase that seems out of place in an academic building.
Trust Newbury to have this sort of architecture, like its very prestige and scholarship are meant to rise up over them.
Beverly’s office is upstairs in the corner of the building of course, and as he knocks lightly on her door, Ned can guess it’ll have sprawling views of the quad.
Ah, no, the river, he sees as she opens it. Of course. Glittering in the winter sun, spreading out before her many windows like a damn postcard.
“Come in. So nice to see you again.”
“Thank you so much for having us,” Ned says, because Abbot’s gone stiff already.
Why? Ned wants to have pushed more, so he at least has some context, but Abbot’s not talking and hopefully Ned won’t manage to put his foot in it today while he flies blind.
“I’ve heard such wonderful things about you and the department. ”
Laying it on too thick maybe, but all three of them know Ned is here to beg for a job, to grovel and scrape his way into any possibility he might be entertained as a candidate.
Oh, he so wants to just up and leave. Bring Abbot with him and run away from this place.
Instead, he unbuttons his coat and gives Beverly the warmest smile he can.
“I read your paper on the burden of schools in areas seeing increased population growth through migration,” Ned says so that Abbot doesn’t have to deal with filling the quiet as they all sit.
He takes the nearer chair, leaving Abbot the one against the wall he’ll certainly prefer.
“It’s an interesting question for higher ed.
I know you were looking at K-through-twelve schools, but it’s been on my mind in terms of issues of student retention at four-year institutions. ”
“Has it?” Beverly asks as she settles behind her desk.
No, not even a little bit, but if Abbot can drag himself into this woman’s presence when he’d clearly rather climb out the window, Ned can play ball too.
“Portland, Maine, is a pretty small urban area, but all the same we had transfers to Callahan from more remote parts of the state.” He leans forward and lets his eyes fall on a framed picture of a little boy wearing shin guards, one foot resting on a soccer ball.
“Is that the south shore travel league? I heard the coaches there are great.”
Beverly glances at it and her face softens. “My grandson, and yes. He loves it.”
“My daughter’s in basketball this winter,” Ned says.
“Maybe we’ll try for soccer this spring.
” He really might, not just for the sake of casual conversation.
T-ball is a possibility too, and soccer is equally an option because a ball, cleats, and shin guards are in the budget.
He just really needs Peggy to not come home asking to ride a horse or play ice hockey or some other expensive activity he’ll have to gently say no to.
Especially if he doesn’t have a job. How embarrassing to even think about. He straightens and adds, “He’s pretty cute.”
“He is,” Beverly says. “And yes, Charles mentioned your daughter.”
Ned relaxes a fraction. Talking about kids? He can do this: Get Beverly to see him as a person, not a problem. “She’s turned this guy into an absolute font of dinosaur knowledge.”
“I can imagine you’re both looking forward to being together here in Boston.”
Which is why I’m offering you a job right this very moment, Ned wills her to continue, as if that’s even remotely what she might say next.
“So,” Beverly says, leaning back in her chair. “Ned. Tell me about yourself.”
Yeah, Ned can handle this too. He puts on another smile.
He laid awake last night going over his résumé, his work, his courses, his entire life, ready to recount it for her in the most confident way he can.
“Well, as you know, I’m an assistant professor at Adams. Been there since graduating from Callahan.
And you know Chris up there, clearly. He was my advisor and my committee chair both.
I was so lucky to get to work with him.”
And to dodge his latest scheme. A book club, apparently, the book in question one Abbot’s been using to weigh down a collage Peggy made him of what is supposed to be a dinosaur eating a donut.
Somehow. Maybe it’ll be clearer when the book has pressed the curling, glue-soaked paper into its proper shape.
“He’s such a gem,” Beverly says. “He worked hard to get Henry to come to Callahan, and I can’t say I don’t feel bad trying to steal him away.”
Ned turns to Abbot. He’s never heard that story, he realizes now. How Abbot came to work for Chris all those years ago, and why he ended up at Callahan and not a more prestigious university, or off somewhere in Europe.
Not that Abbot jumps in to explain, of course.
“Callahan was a great fit,” Ned says before the silence can get awkward. “Adams has been too. I’m really happy with my courses and the research I’ve been working on, and I’d love to be able to stay, but we all know what direction the university is headed.”
“And you two want to be in Boston,” Beverly says.
“My daughter’s here,” Ned says.
Abbot shifts in his chair. “His whole family.”
Abbot’s usual coolness laces his voice, a note of Isn’t that obvious?
in his tone. Ned once took it for simply his intelligence and impatience with anyone not operating on his level, but all he hears now is Abbot’s discomfort.
He wants to reach out to touch Abbot again, reassure them both, but probably not the best idea when he’s aiming for professional as hell in this meeting.
Still, a warm glow settles in Ned’s chest at Abbot’s words. Yeah, Ned’s family is here, and Abbot’s willing to move here because of it. He could go anywhere, land a job at any university he wants to, and he’s choosing Boston because of Ned.
“It’s going to be great to both be down here,” Ned says.
Perfect, he lets himself think. This conversation is going according to plan.
He’d strategized this too: heading off the elephant in the room before Beverly can ask.
“We’d just started dating when I moved. We really didn’t know each other until I was pretty much defending my dissertation, and then I had this job offer close to my daughter.
She was living here in Boston with her mom while I finished my doctorate, and I was up in Maine. ”
“You took Henry’s class, as a doctoral student?”
Ned makes himself nod, ignoring the flush that warms his face. Yeah, okay, Ned dated his professor. What an ideal job candidate he is. He’s lucky they even let him in the building.