Part 11 (1/2)
”I accepted the offer at King's because I liked the idea of creating a Medieval Studies program from the ground up,” I tell Frances, which is also the truth. ”Starting something new.”
”It's been phenomenal, as you well know,” Frances remarks. ”But as the program has become more and more successful, I've suspected it was only a matter of time before other inst.i.tutions came knocking at your door.”
A strange sense of foreboding fills my chest. ”Are you firing me, Frances?”
”Heavens, no.” She laughs. ”I'd actually give anything to keep you here. But I heard the World Heritage Center is eyeing you for the a.s.sistant director position.”
Discomfort stabs at me. ”I haven't been offered the job. The only reason I didn't turn it down right away was-”
She holds up a hand to stop me. ”I'm not upset you didn't tell me, Dean. In fact, it made me think you might be under-utilized in your current position.”
I don't know what to say to that, though her implication that I'd like to do other things besides teach is partly true-and the reason I've enjoyed getting back into archeology and travel.
”I talked to Hans Klasen yesterday,” Frances continues, picking up a glossy blue folder embellished with the gold UNESCO logo. ”I told him he'd be a fool not to offer you the job.”
”What?” I sit back and stare at her. ”Why?”
”Because I've been around scholars for most of my life,” Frances replies. ”And it's rare that I have the privilege of working with one of your caliber. I believe you should use your G.o.d-given talent on a global scale, to actively work with sites and monuments the way you've been doing with Altopascio.”
For a minute, I can only look at her, again smothering the persistently ambitious thought of taking my career and reputation to a whole new level. I shake my head.
”I appreciate that, Frances. But there's no way I could ever leave King's or Mirror Lake. And it doesn't matter anyway because I haven't been offered the job.”
”Yet.” Frances pushes the folder across the desk to me. ”Your devotion to your work is the reason the World Heritage Center is interested in you. It's hardly a wonder you didn't even have to formally apply. Your integrity and single-mindedness are your application.”
A weighty silence falls between us.
”I can't believe you want me to consider another job,” I finally admit.
”I know. I'm amazed that I'm being so generous.” Frances gives me a little, self-deprecating smile. ”If it were any other job, I wouldn't be. But frankly, you taking the job would also be great for King's University, especially if you did joint programming between us and the WHC.”
She turns back to her computer. ”Really, Dean, I don't believe you've reached the limits of what you can do or the difference you can make. And honestly, I suspect that unless you look beyond this university, you never will.”
She puts on her gla.s.ses and begins typing. I glance at the thick, blue United Nations folder on her desk, not sure if it seems more like a time bomb or an announcement that I just won a coveted prize.
Without picking the folder up, I turn and leave the office.
CHAPTER SEVEN.
DEAN.
Though tourist season hasn't started yet, Mirror Lake is getting ready. Flowers bloom from wooden planters lining the sidewalks, and several storefronts have freshly painted facades.
Last summer, Liv and Allie had an outdoor terrace added to the Wonderland Cafe, and it overlooks a gra.s.sy expanse of land leading to Wizard's Park. In a short time, the cafe has become more than just a restaurant and birthday party place-it's become a new Mirror Lake inst.i.tution, thanks to word of mouth from local mothers, as well as Liv and Allie's outreach efforts in the community.
As I enter the cafe to the sound of happy chatter, a stab of guilt hits me at the thought that I'd ever-even in the most closed-off place of my mind-resent the cafe for taking so much of my wife's time.
Never. I'd never think that. I can't.
The conviction solidifies when I see Liv maneuvering around the tables in the Tea Party Room, her hair swinging in a high ponytail, her skin flushed and her eyes bright as she stops to deliver a tray of checkerboard sandwiches and bread-and-b.u.t.terflies.
She smiles at a little girl seated at a table and bends to say something. The girl smiles back and nods, touching the barrette in her hair Liv must have commented on.
My heart tightens. Sometimes I still feel guilty over not wanting to have kids for so long. I'd known from the start Liv would be an incredible mother, though I was never sure about my own abilities as a father. But watching her with Nicholas and other kids, it's painfully obvious this is what she was meant to do and be.
If I go into that dark place, I know exactly why I'd resisted having children. And my reasons had less to do with worries about fatherhood and more to do with not wanting to share Liv with anyone. Because that would mean she was no longer completely mine.
It was a stupid, selfish thought-one I still don't want to admit to-but it was there. And I do have to share her now. She belongs to the cafe, to her volunteer work, to the people who count on her for employment, advice, help, support, friends.h.i.+p. And she belongs to our son, a fact I wouldn't change for anything. There is no better gift Nicholas could have been given than to have Liv for his mother.
The thought of our son disintegrates all those old fears. If Liv hadn't convinced me to battle them back a few years ago, we might not have had the boy who fills my heart with color and light.
Liv walks to the front counter, her face breaking into a smile when she sees me.
”Hi.” She stands on tiptoe to kiss me. ”What are you doing here? Still thinking about coconuts?”
”Uh, no. I thought I'd see if you could take a break.”
”I'm sorry, but I can't. We're swamped.” She squeezes my arm. ”I have an hour left in my s.h.i.+ft, then I'm meeting with the planning committee for the Bicentennial Festival.”
I deflect a stab of disappointment, figuring it would be better to tell her at home that I'm leaving again.
”Okay.” I reach out to gently tug her ponytail. ”You need me to pick up Nicholas?”
”No, I'll get him on the way home.”
”Call me if you need me.”
She flashes me a smile. ”I always need you.”
I return her smile and start toward the door just as Kelsey comes up the steps of the front porch. She enters the cafe and whips off her sungla.s.ses.
”Hey.” She blinks at me. ”What're you doing here?”
”Just came to talk to Liv. You?”
”Looking for Archer.” She glances past my shoulder. ”He's not answering his phone. Is he here?”
”I don't think so.”
”I wanted to tell him the Spiral Project just got approval to do a chase in Australia this fall.”
”Really?” A rush of pride in her fills me. ”Congratulations.”
”Thanks.” She smiles. ”It'll just be for a few weeks, but the university already approved my leave.”