CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN
It was late afternoon and Jack was finishing up in his office. His new administrative assistant, Joyce Demarco, had already gone for the day. Joyce didn’t have quite the above-and-beyond work ethic that Tré had displayed, but she was working out well. Upon being awarded his MBA last spring, Tré was hired by the university’s finance office and was enjoying his new responsibilities.
New Canterbury University had been rescued from its financial abyss by a federal grant that would be recovered through the sale of Potemkin’s assets. As the stain on the medical center’s reputation was erased, Damien Falconi returned to partner on the creation of a genomic research center. New construction was already underway.
He opened Marianna’s email again. It had just arrived that morning and, though he had read it twice, he had not had time yet to write the response it deserved.
Dear Jack,
Along with all my best wishes, I write to give you some good news. My friend tells me that the chancellor at Kyiv University Medical School will soon confirm that he would like you to be a visiting professor of emergency medicine for a month this summer, as you and he had discussed! I’m all but 100% certain this will happen, and I am excited and happy to know we will have this opportunity to continue our friendship in person. There are so many things to talk about that are not easy by writing or by phone. When you came to Ukraine with Zoë, Kaitlyn, and Julia to see me last Easter, it was one of the best things in my life. It was wonderful to spend time with you all—and to be far away from the terrible things that happened to us the autumn before that. Olesia and her family are well. She asks me often how everyone is doing.
I am well and still enjoying my new job as the editor in chief of the Ukrainian Week. Our subscriptions continue to grow in number. The previous editor, whom I told you had disappeared, has now been seen in St. Petersburg working for a Russian newspaper there. There is not too much more to say about him. I think his spirit was broken by his contact with the men of Potemkin. I am myself working on another article about the growing military conflict with Russian-backed separatists in Eastern Ukraine, along with the threat of a possible general invasion of Ukraine by Russia. Most people in Ukraine do not believe this could happen, but we will see.
My anticipation runs high for your visit. After that it will be my turn to come and see you. I am glad for the work I do, and I am happy for the work that occupies you, but I sometimes can’t help but feel the unfairness of our work being so far apart. But I will say no more. You are so often in my thoughts.
With affection, your friend,
Marianna
Jack read it one more time and hit reply.
Dear Marianna,
It is terrific to hear from you, as always. It sounds as though you are enjoying your new responsibilities. I’m not surprised. I can’t think of a better person to be doing it. Thank you so much for passing on your intel about the visiting professorship! I will await final confirmation, but I’ve already cleared the way to take this coming July as a sabbatical. Operations are running smoothly here now and I’m sure they’ll survive well without me for at least that long—and much longer, I’m sure.
Everyone sends you their kindest regards. Last weekend Tony and I built Julia a treehouse (not very high above the ground, I’d add). I will send you photos. She is enjoying kindergarten and has grown at least two inches since you saw her last. I don’t know if I mentioned that Tony has begun studying for an online master’s degree in computer science and plans on taking the business that he and Chad had started to a higher level. Zoë is well. She has started volunteering at an animal rescue shelter and just yesterday we discussed rearranging the barn and fencing in a field or two so that she can take in a few horses and maybe some goats and sheep in need of homes. It will be like returning this land back to when my grandparents had their farm. A nice feeling. The field where the wrecked vehicle sat rusting is now clear. I finally had it towed away (to the scrapyard south of New Canterbury, which is now under new management, not surprisingly). I often think of the day when I took a hammer to it, and you were so kind and understanding. I see that as a turning point in my life, to be honest.
Forgive the brevity of this message, but I am running out of time and must close for now if I’m going to make it to Kaitlyn’s baseball game. It’s the second game of the season, and she’ll be the starting pitcher. We have a beautiful spring day for it. As I said in my last letter, she was named team captain this year. We learned last week that she is also in the final rounds of consideration for a baseball scholarship to Yale University. I couldn’t be prouder of her. Her decision to stay with us has changed our lives for the better.
And everyone talks about you often. If all goes as planned for my visiting professorship in July, I would like to bring the whole crew with me. But sometime in the autumn, if all the stars line up, perhaps you and I could consider meeting in Italy for a holiday, just the two of us. I’ve always wanted to see the place.
Yours truly,
Jack