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MARSHALL DIXON HAD called me in to notify me that I had been awarded tenure. That was the good news.
The bad news was it looked like I was going to continue in my assignment as Interim Department Chair for the foreseeable future.
“Yours is the last tenure-track position the College of Commerce is going to get for a while,” Marshall explained. “If we lose you, we won’t get a replacement. Unless this budget situation turns around. And no one realistically expects it to. At best, we’d be authorized to hire an adjunct on a semester-to-semester basis.”
“Well, I certainly don’t want to contradict the idea that I’m indispensable, but what about the other tenured members of the department?”
“A department chair needs to be someone with a minimum of successful personnel actions,” Marshall said.
“You’ve only had one grievance filed against you,” Victor Santiago added, “and you were cleared.”
“Right. The cheese-eating incident.”
Hanson Harrison and Larry Schneider, the department’s two most senior professors, had been slapping each other with formal complaints and grievances since before I was born. And Rodge Cowper—well, he was the reason for the Rodge Cowper Rule, which specified when you had a student in your office, you had to keep your door open at a forty-five-degree angle or greater. Our HR department was rumored to have an entire file cabinet dedicated to Rodge Cowper.
And Dan Watanabe, who was smart, reasonable, and even-tempered, was currently acting as Interim Dean. So much for the other four members of the Management Department.
“So what about our grant?” I asked. “Primo Nordmann’s murderer hasn’t been caught. And they still haven’t worked out what happened to Randy Randolph. We’ll continue to keep it on hold?”
“Yes,” Victor said. “Let’s wait to see what develops. We’ll touch bases later.”
“I have tenure now?”
Marshall handed me an envelope.
“This is the letter confirming your tenure and promotion.”
I opened the envelope and read the letter, then folded it back up and tucked it into my bag.
“Marshall mentioned you wanted to make a gift to the university,” Victor said.
“Yes. This is unrelated to my tenure bid, of course, and is simply a contribution to Mahina State University and its important mission.”
“We are grateful for the support,” Marshall said.
“I’ll bring the document in tomorrow. Where should I drop it off?”
“With my secretary. She’ll take care of it.”
“May I say something?”
Victor and Marshall exchanged a look.
“Certainly,” Marshall said.
I looked from Marshall to Victor, and back to Marshall. “So I really have tenure?”
“For all intensive purposes, yes,” Victor said.
I took a deep breath.
“It’s touch base. Not touch bases. The expression is touch base. It’s from baseball. You can only touch one base at a time.”
“But it’s two people,” Victor said. “That’s why you say touching bases.”
“No, I think she’s right,” Marshall said.
“And it’s all intents and purposes, not all intensive purposes.”
“Thank you, Molly.” Marshall looked weary. “I see your English background will be very useful for all of us in the years ahead.”
“Great. Thank you. Thank you.” I stood up and shook Marshall’s hand (firm, perfect handshake) and then Victor’s (a little on the bone-crushing side. Maybe he didn’t like being corrected.) I couldn’t wait to tell Donnie the good news.