After spending the day driving to Rochester and back, and introducing Pierre to his new friend Bill, the last thing Joss wanted to do was go to some stuffy professor party. She’d secretly hoped Olivia would decide to back out and they could spend the evening eating pizza and watching an old movie. No such luck.
Olivia patted her knee. “There is no reason for you to be nervous.”
A week after having dinner with Joss’s family, they were having the same conversation, only in reverse. Joss took a deep breath. “I’m not nervous, I’m uncomfortable. That’s not the same thing.”
“There is no reason for you to be uncomfortable.”
Joss sat in Olivia’s passenger seat as they wound their way through Cayuga Heights. She’d been there plenty of times before. In her truck, for projects. It wasn’t that the neighborhood was unpleasant. The homes—Colonials and Tudors and Victorians—were beautiful and well-tended. It was that half of them cost a half a million dollars and half of them cost even more. “Am I going to be the only one there who isn’t a professor?”
“Of course not. Most people in my department are married to or dating non-academics.”
“Okay. And whose house are we going to again?”
“Suzanne and Bert Whittaker. Suzanne is in my department and Bert is in Physics.”
“Physics?” Joss imagined someone with cotton candy hair in a white lab coat and bow tie.
“Yes. Actually, I think it’s technically astrophysics. He studies black holes. But he’s nice and really down-to-earth.”
“No pun intended?”
“That’s funny. See? You’re funny. You’re going to do just fine.”
Joss wasn’t sure how a handful of mild jokes was going to get her through the evening, but she didn’t say anything. The last thing she wanted was for Olivia to think she was insecure.
They pulled up to a house and Olivia parked on the street with a couple of other cars. She turned to Joss and winked. “In case we need to make a quick escape.”
“Promises, promises.”
Olivia grinned at her. “You look great, by the way.”
“Thanks.” Joss would never admit it to Olivia, but she’d tried on four different outfits before settling on one she thought was dressy enough without making it look like she was trying too hard. In the end, she went back to her initial plan of navy pants, a navy and white checked shirt, and a dark green sweater vest. Of course, even then, she’d spent twenty minutes of angst over whether or not to wear a tie. She decided against it, wanting to draw less attention to herself rather than more, but she sort of hated herself for chickening out.
They walked up a flagstone path and Olivia knocked on the door. Within seconds, it was opened by an African American man who appeared to be in his early sixties. He had salt-and-pepper hair and wore a cardigan sweater that seemed more grandpa than college professor. His smile was warm and Joss felt instantly more at ease.
“Olivia, I’m so glad you could make it.”
“Bert, it’s so good to see you.” Olivia offered her hand and Bert took it in both of his.
“Yes, it’s been far too long.”
“Joss, this is Bert. He’s Suzanne’s husband. Bert, this is Joss.”
Bert’s smile remained warm as it turned to Joss. “Pleasure to meet you, Joss. Come on in and make yourselves at home.”
“You as well.” Joss realized that she’d become hyperaware of her grammar. She tried to shake off the feeling as they followed him inside.
The house was beautiful, the decor eclectic and cozy. In the living room, a pair of African masks shared wall space with some framed maps and what Joss guessed were photos of grandchildren. The biggest tell she was in the home of academics was the row of bookshelves that dominated one side of the room. They were overflowing with books in every color and size.
Joss pulled her attention from the space itself and tried to focus on the people in it. There were probably a dozen or so people already there. Sitting on the sofa and standing in groups, they seemed like a far more casual group than Joss was expecting. A few of them noticed the new arrivals and offered nods and waves in greeting.
“Suzanne is in the kitchen, I think. If you want to head that way, she can get you set up with a glass of wine or whatever else you’d like to wet your whistle.”
“Thanks, Bert.” Olivia took Joss’s hand and led the way toward the back of the house.
Much like the living room, the kitchen was cozy and inviting. It had the feel of a recent remodel, but they’d kept the style original to the house. Joss approved of the choices of color and material, deciding she might be able to like Olivia’s colleague and her husband just fine.
“Olivia.” The woman, who Joss figured must be Suzanne, was putting crackers on a board that held a wedge of cheese and a pile of dried apricots. She stopped what she was doing and came over to where they were standing. She pulled Olivia into a hug and then turned to Joss. She extended her hand. “You must be Joss. I’ve heard so much about you. I’m Suzanne.”
“Hi, Suzanne. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“I’m so glad you could join us. I’ve been hearing all about the work you’re doing on Olivia’s house. It’s nice to be able to put a face with the name.”
Joss smiled. She wondered if Suzanne was being polite or if Olivia had talked about her only in the context of the renovation. She told herself it didn’t matter. “It’s quite a project she’s taken on, but it will be amazing when it’s done.”
“I have no doubt. What can I get you to drink? There’s wine, some beer and soda in the fridge, stuff for mixed drinks over there.” She gestured to the far counter, where there was a variety of bottles and pitchers of juice.
Olivia looked to her. Joss thought less about what she might want to drink and more about what would look the most innocuous. “Wine would be great, thanks.”
Olivia considered for a moment. “Me, too.”
“Red or white?” Suzanne looked at Joss first.
“Either is fine. I’ll have whatever Olivia is having.”
Olivia raised a brow at her, but didn’t say anything. “Red, then. I can get it, Suzanne. You finish what you were doing.”
“Thanks. It’s right over there.” Suzanne tipped her head in the direction of the counter next to the fridge.
Olivia walked over and filled two glasses from an open bottle. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Not at all. I was just finishing the snacks.” She picked up the cheese board. “After you.”
Olivia handed Joss a glass and led the way back to the living room. Joss followed. This was going to be fine. They were just people. She could make casual conversation for an hour or two and then it would be over.
Olivia made her way over to a small group standing near the bookshelves. Gina was one of them, a fact that helped Joss to relax. Everyone smiled and moved so that the circle would include them. She met Tim, Olivia’s department chair. Then she was introduced to Jae, a young Asian guy who studied pop culture, and Marcella, a Medievalist who reminded Joss of the typical Ithaca hippie.
“It’s good to see you,” Gina said.
“Thanks. No Kel tonight?”
Gina shook her head. “She’s working on a big case, so it’s an excused absence.”
That earned a chuckle from the group. No one seemed stodgy or conservative. In fact, conversation was about the latest political drama on Netflix, not some obscure piece of literature she’d never heard of. This really wasn’t so bad.
“How far along is she?” Marcella asked.
“Thirty weeks,” Gina replied. “We’re hoping she gets to at least thirty-seven.”
Joss had a flash of Kel tending the grill on her deck, already looking plenty pregnant. She wondered what it would be like to carry a baby—or two. Surprised by just how vivid the scenario was, she worked to shake it off and focus on the conversation at hand.
“Olivia says the work you’re doing at her house is phenomenal,” Tim said.
Joss smiled, pleased that Olivia thought highly enough of it to tell her colleagues. “It’s a great house. I really enjoy breathing new life into places other people have written off.”
“I saw what you did to the master bathroom,” Gina said. “I’d say you’ve done a hell of a lot more than breathe new life into it.”
Marcella chimed in. “I stopped by last week and saw it, too. I’ve already started putting together pictures of what I want you to do at my house.”
“You wait your turn.” Olivia’s tone was stern and she pointed a finger at Marcella, earning laughs from the group.
After about half an hour, Joss offered to refresh drinks. She took Olivia’s glass, as well as Marcella’s, and headed to the kitchen. She poured wine for Olivia and herself, then went over to the bar to mix a gin and tonic for Marcella. A middle-aged man she hadn’t been introduced to stood at the counter making what appeared to be an old fashioned. She pretended to study a work of crayon and glitter on the fridge to avoid elbowing in beside him.
“You came with Dr. Bennett, right?”
Joss realized that the man must be talking to her. She turned and saw him facing her, highball glass in hand. He wore a turtleneck and a tweed blazer with elbow patches, little wire-rimmed glasses. He looked to Joss like he’d stepped out of an Ivy League admissions brochure.
“Yes, I’m here with Olivia.”
“Gerald Stevens, American literature.” He offered his hand.
Gerald scrutinized her in a way that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She shook his hand and tried to ignore the feeling. “Joss Bauer.”
“You’re the contractor, right? Bauer and Sons?”
Joss wasn’t sure what he meant by “the” contractor, but she nodded. “I am a contractor, mostly residential and commercial renovations, the occasional addition. My family’s company is doing the work on Olivia’s new house.”
Gerald nodded as though he already knew that. “So, you and Olivia are…”
He trailed off, presumably waiting for Joss to finish the sentence. Joss swallowed. Olivia wouldn’t have invited her here if she was trying to keep their relationship a secret. Not answering would probably be weirder than acknowledging it. “We’re dating.”
“And she dragged you to some stuffy English department party.”
Joss shrugged. “I’m happy to come with her.”
“That’s nice of you. I’m sure it’s dreadfully dull, being surrounded by us academics and all of our erudite talk.”
Joss got the distinct feeling that the comment was meant as an insult, not good-natured self-deprecation. “The conversation has been really interesting, actually.”
“Oh, good. There’s nothing worse than being stuck in a conversation where everything is over your head. Aside from that, it must be great for you.”
What the hell did that mean? “Olivia is amazing. I certainly enjoy spending time with her.”
“Indeed she is. Quite the rising star in the department. I was thinking more along the lines of being great for business, though. Olivia’s friends, colleagues. I’m sure there are all sorts of jobs and projects she can nudge your way.”
Joss narrowed her eyes. Was he trying to imply that she was using Olivia? Or the other way around? “We’ve never talked about it. I don’t really need to drum up business, if that’s what you mean.”
“Well, I guess I only meant that you’re so different.”
Joss resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Was this guy for real? “I’d actually say we’re quite complementary.”
“Of course. I’m sure you’ve worked out an arrangement that’s…” Gerald looked her up and down slowly. “Mutually beneficial.”
A lengthy silence followed, mostly because Joss didn’t know what to say. She knew she was insulted, but beyond that, it was hard to put a finger on what about the conversation angered her the most. Before she could sort out a response that she wouldn’t regret the second it came out of her mouth, Gerald lifted his glass.
“Cheers,” he said, and walked away.
Joss stood where she was for a long moment, then remembered why she’d come into the kitchen in the first place. She sloshed some gin into a glass, added ice cubes and tonic water, topped it with lime. It took effort to keep her hands from shaking as she carried the glasses back to the living room.
The conversation she’d left had broken up. Gina was nowhere to be seen and Olivia, Marcella, and Jae were now talking with Gerald and a man she hadn’t met. Despite a strong desire to turn around and go back to the kitchen, or to put the drinks down and leave altogether, she walked toward them. She handed Olivia and Marcella their drinks and contemplated ways she might escape. Olivia introduced Phillip, who’d started teaching the same semester as Olivia.
When Olivia turned to Gerald, he interrupted her. “I’ve already met your friend, Dr. Bennett. Ms. Bauer and I were mixing drinks together, isn’t that right?”
“We were.” Joss opted not to elaborate.
“Ms. Bauer, we were just discussing Hemingway. Have you read any of his work?”
Joss had a vague recollection of reading The Old Man and the Sea in high school, but not much else. “Only a long time ago, I’m afraid.”
“Well, I’m trying to get a sense of how people interpret Hemingway’s personification of masculinity in relation to Foucault’s assertion of exteriority. Would you care to weigh in?”
Joss knew the question was absurd for anyone not enmeshed in the study of literature. But still. That knowledge didn’t stop the rise of color in her cheeks, the feeling that everyone’s eyes were on her.
“You’re being ridiculous, Gerald. Go harass someone else.” Olivia rolled her eyes, but there was humor in her tone.
Gerald raised his hands, as if admitting defeat, and turned to join another conversation. Phillip followed, looking a bit like an eager puppy.
Marcella put a hand on Joss’s arm. “We weren’t actually talking about that, at least most of us weren’t. Gerald’s an ass.”
“And pompous,” Jae added.
Joss nodded. She didn’t doubt their sincerity, but the idea that she needed the reassurance bristled. She looked over at Olivia, who seemed unfazed by the exchange. That fact shouldn’t bother her, but it did.
Marcella rolled her eyes. “So pompous. What we were actually discussing were ridiculous student stories. I had a kid email me today asking to rewrite his first paper.”
Joss didn’t know how to respond. The request seemed maybe a little pushy, but not ridiculous. Maybe there was some kind of inside professor joke that she didn’t get. “Really?”
“Yeah. It wasn’t the asking so much as the fact that he felt the need to add how irrelevant British literature was in his life, but that getting any grade below a B would ruin his chances of getting into medical school.”
“Oh.” The explanation made Joss feel significantly better.
Marcella shook her head. “I’m not an idiot. I know there are students who feel that way. You’d think, though, they’d have the sense not to say as much when they’re asking you for something.”
Joss could relate to that. Although most of her clients were great, there were always a few pills. They had a way of being insulting and demanding at the same time—it was as baffling as it was annoying.
Jae launched into a story of a student who’d copied his entire paper from an online database, yet adamantly refused to accept plagiarism charges. Olivia had two students ask for extensions on papers because the fraternities they were pledging had required events that would take up their entire weekends. Joss relaxed enough to talk about Janice Schafer, a woman who waited until her entire kitchen back splash was put up and grouted to decide she didn’t like the tile she’d picked. “When I told her she could no longer return the original materials for a refund, she yelled at me for at least twenty minutes.”
Everyone laughed. Jae cocked his head to one side like he was deep in thought. “I wonder if her son goes to Cornell? She sounds a lot like a mother who yelled at me last semester for daring to make her son uncomfortable in my Race and Gender in Film course.”
“How dare you.” Olivia’s dramatic inflection got another laugh from the group.
The rest of the party passed smoothly. Everyone else Joss encountered was friendly and seemed genuinely interested in her and what she did. Still, the nagging voice in the back of her mind remained, replaying her conversation with Gerald. Based on the artful way Olivia deflected him, Joss was pretty sure he always behaved that way. It would have been nice if Olivia had given her a little warning. Then she could have been more adept in her handling of him as well. Joss tried to shove her irritation aside, but the uneasy feeling kept coming back. Part of it was irritation. The other part was harder to put her finger on, but it felt an awful lot like doubt.
By the time they left, Joss had worked herself into a state. She plastered a fake smile on her face and thanked Bert and Suzanne for their hospitality. She climbed into Olivia’s car, trying to focus on being relieved the whole thing was over.