Part 23 (2/2)
”How else do you know if it's worth reading?”
”Faith. My sweet. You're supposed to have faith that the storyteller wouldn't be telling you the story if it wasn't worth it. And Kristine seems worth it.”
Gloria hmphed and leaned into her mother's hug. She knew that her mother was right, but that didn't make it any easier to accept.
Chapter Thirty-Nine.
The familiarity of the college town instantly put a smile on Kristine's face. She parked across the highway from campus and found a coffee shop. She bought a local paper to read while she had her lunch, though she barely turned any pages, thinking instead of what she was going to say when she walked over to campus and whether their answer mattered much in this crazy decision she'd made to follow her heart.
Once fortified, she strode purposefully toward campus, her portfolio under her arm. She marveled at the redwoods that stood as a backdrop. Gloria had been right about how much she'd want to capture her beloved Northcoast on film. She dawdled at the footbridge, admiring the artful graffiti before tackling a steep set of stairs.
She stood nervously outside of the art department door even after she'd caught her breath and figured out what to say. Finally, she reached forward, turned the k.n.o.b and pulled open the door.
”I'll be right with you,” a harried man maybe five years older than Kristine said before returning to his phone call. She nodded and studied the office, the flyers announcing opportunities for scholars.h.i.+ps and graduate programs, a few students filling out paperwork at the counter. She wasn't trying to eavesdrop, but she realized she'd been listening to lists of schedule conflicts. Sounding more frustrated by the minute, the man wrapped up the phone call. He closed his eyes, stretched his neck and brought his attention to Kristine.
”How can I help you?” he asked, still seated.
Kristine gulped. ”I hope I haven't caught you at a bad time and that this doesn't come off as inappropriate,” she began. ”I filed an application for adjunct work, but my contact information has changed. I'd like to update it.”
”Please tell me you're Kristine Owens,” he said, sounding hopeful.
”Yes,” she said, surprised he had her name at the tip of his tongue.
”I'm Aaron, the office administrator.” His face brightened immediately. ”I've left message after message for you at the number you provided.”
”I'm so sorry,” Kristine said. ”I just wrapped up a job in the High Sierras where the cell reception is poor, so it's the business number you have. They've all cleared out for the season now.”
His hands flew through piles of papers, finally landing on what she gathered was her application. He scanned through it, his expression changing in front of her from harried to surprised to excited. ”Not a problem now as long as you're still interested in working for us.”
”Of course.”
”Can you meet with some people today?” he asked.
”Yes,” she said, stunned and a little confused about the rush.
”And you could start right now.”
It was a statement, not a question, which confused her. ”I, uh...yes I could,” she said, taken aback.
”Let me grab our department chair.”
Even more confused, Kristine simply nodded.
”Don't move. I'll be right back.” He looked at her again as if committing what she looked like to memory. After he left, she self-consciously checked what she was wearing. Her outfit was more appropriate for a barn than an art department, but at least her jeans were on the newer side and her s.h.i.+rt and boots both clean. She sat, wondering what was happening with the department chair. She hadn't had time to create an answer when he was back with an older woman on his heels.
”Miss Owens?” the woman said.
Kristine nodded. The woman's suit jacket was the only part of her that implied management. Her jeans and loose blouse suggested she felt more at home in a studio. She'd swept her long gray hair back in a messy bun held by what might have been a red chopstick.
”I'm Natalie Stettner, Department Chair. We've been trying to track you down for days.” The radiant smile and extra squeeze of Kristine's hands when they shook conveyed just how excited she was.
”Yes. I'm so sorry about the defunct number I had on file. I promise you can reach me easily now.”
”Let's talk in my office. Aaron, you'll put together a packet for me?”
”Already working on it,” he said.
Though confused by their exchange, Kristine followed the chair down the hall to her office, which confirmed her guess that Natalie was herself an artist. Oil paintings, sketches and watercolors covered the walls. Her desk was piled high with papers, and the floor had various stacks of books. ”I really should use the chair's office back in the department, but it still doesn't feel right to me. I'm a little new at this-my first semester as chair,” Natalie explained. ”An a.s.sociate professor became ill and is facing complications we knew would keep her from returning next semester. But her health has declined rapidly, so we're having to cover her cla.s.ses for the rest of this semester as well. We need a subst.i.tute immediately. Aaron's been striking out all week, and then he calls with this news that the perfect replacement is standing in the office.”
Kristine blinked. ”Perfect replacement?”
”You do have your MFA?” Natalie said, flipping through Kristine's application.
Kristine nodded. Her afternoon was going nothing like she'd planned. She had hoped to get a feel for the department. When she'd opened her eyes at the falls and recognized the image of the woman was.h.i.+ng her hair first, she felt the pull of the coast, of Gloria, and responded. She'd hoped, at best, for some positive feedback about her application for any part-time cla.s.ses for spring semester, but had never dreamed of something being available right now.
”And you've taught before?”
”I taught a few undergrad cla.s.ses while I finished my graduate degree. But since my interns.h.i.+p photographing museum pieces ended, I've been working on my portfolio, thinking that I wanted to pursue a professional career.”
Natalie's gaze s.h.i.+fted to the portfolio at Kristine's side. ”May I?”
Kristine nodded, handing over her work. She watched the woman's facial expressions as she studied the pages, feeling hopeful as she inspected each photo closely rather than scanning them quickly. When she finished the portfolio, Natalie sat back in her chair. ”It's an impressive portfolio. I'm surprised you haven't found anything in the professional realm.”
”Actually, I just did. I have an offer from a magazine down in San Diego, but this summer changed my priorities in a lot of ways. I had the opportunity to teach on a photography trip for a pack station in Mammoth.” She described her students, the terrain and the techniques they had covered during the five-day trip. ”Until that trip, I hadn't even considered teaching as an option, but I'm a social person, and when I really started to think about accepting the magazine's offer, I realized it wouldn't be as good a fit for me.”
”And Humboldt is a good fit?”
Kristine thought of the primary reason she was here, and when she thought of Gloria, she blushed, but she remembered Gloria saying she'd love to see the Northcoast through Kristine's lens and quickly tapped back into her professional brain. ”Look at this environment! Who wouldn't want to be teaching photography here?”
”Indeed,” Natalie said, smiling. ”I've seen enough to know that you can handle this job. The nature photography cla.s.s will be a lot like what you described doing this summer. I see in your portfolio that you have the skills to teach our studio photography cla.s.ses. The only question left is whether you want to take over as instructor of record on Monday. We're three weeks into the semester, and I do want to warn you that these cla.s.ses are off to a rocky start. They've missed multiple sessions while we've been struggling to find someone.”
Kristine could see the chair waiting for a response, but every cell in her body was busy going haywire, making speech impossible. What would Gloria say? She hadn't even asked, but it was Friday. Clearly, this woman needed an answer before the weekend. The universe had opened a door, so she bravely took a step forward. ”Yes, absolutely.”
”You seemed to hesitate. Are you committed to your professional offer in San Diego?”
Kristine rushed to a.s.sure her. ”Oh, I'm thrilled. I'm just shocked is all. Your offer feels like an answer to a prayer.”
Natalie Stettner sank back in her chair, a look of relief relaxing her considerably. ”Thank you for saving us,” she said. ”Aaron was just starting to think I would have to take over the cla.s.ses. What a disaster that would be, a sculptor trying to teach photography!”
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