Saving Miss Oliver's. Stephen Davenport
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He still didn’t answer. Because now, of course, he did know. “
If I remember correctly, we were talking about getting rid of Joan Saffire,” Mavis said.
Charlotte shrugged. “So we were.” “
Well?” said Mavis to Fred.
“I don’t want to appear not to be listening,” he said trying to keep the tentativeness out of his voice. “Or reluctant to accept advice, but I, uh, I think I need to remind you that it is the head who makes these decisions.”
“She’s Marjorie’s niece,” said Charlotte. “You didn’t know that?”
“Yes, I knew that.”
“Charlotte, please.” Mavis looked sternly at her friend. “That’s not the reason. She’s incompetent, that’s why.” Then turning to Fred: “The main thing is that she’s always saying the wrong thing. She insults people.”
“People like Joan Saffire need to keep their politics to themselves!” Charlotte blurted.
“Why don’t you tell Fred about when your husband asked Aldous Enright if he would accelerate his pledge,” Mavis said softly to Charlotte.
“Ladies,” Fred asserted. “This isn’t an appropriate way to evaluate—”
“You need to listen to this!” Mavis said.
Fred put both hands up, a double stop sign, but Charlotte was already talking. “When Gerald called for the appointment, Mr. Enright just exploded!”
“It seems that Marjorie’s niece had already talked with him,” Mavis interrupted. “She called on him to ask him to make a bigger pledge and to restrict it to financial aid.”
“Financial aid!” Charlotte exclaimed. “From Aldous Enright? Everybody knows he doesn’t believe in financial aid!”
“And when she talked with him, she talked about poor people in a way that made it look as if anybody with money is a fascist,” Mavis said. “This woman, who everybody knows wouldn’t even be here if she weren’t Marjorie’s niece, is lecturing Aldous Enright about financial aid!”
“So, not only did Mr. Enright not accelerate his gift, he canceled it,” Charlotte announced.
There was a moment of silence while Fred thought of what to say. He hadn’t been in office for a morning yet, and already this! “Maybe Mr. Enright would have canceled it anyway,” he tried.
“He would not!” Charlotte said. “I already said: People like her need to keep their political opinions to themselves.”
“It’s only one incident, though,” said Fred. Then he cut himself off. That tack wouldn’t work either.
“Of course one incident isn’t enough!” Mavis was insulted. “We’re only telling you one incident as an example. I don’t believe in firing someone for one mistake any more than you do.”
“I appreciate your concern,” he said, desperate for an end to the conversation. “Very much. I will bring it up right away with Dorothy Strang.”
“Dorothy is an excellent director of Development,” Mavis said. “But what difference does it make what Dorothy Strang thinks of Joan Saffire? The board has no faith in Joan Saffire. That’s what counts here. That is, the part of the board who raises money doesn’t. The rest just loves everybody. So why are you trying to sell us on her?”
“I’m not selling, Mrs. Ericksen, I am insisting on ethical process.” Fred hated the sanctimonious sound of his voice.
“This is no time for delicacy,” Mavis warned.
“It certainly isn’t,” Charlotte said.
“And I resent being painted as the villain,” Mavis said.
“Look, why don’t we call on Aldous Enright again—give it another try,” Fred said, “and in the meantime I guarantee you that I will make sure Mrs. Saffire’s performance is evaluated. I could do more harm than good by appearing to fire people arbitrarily before anybody trusts me.”
“If you want to earn my trust, Mr. Kindler, just do what you have to do, and do it right away.”
“When is it going to happen?” Charlotte asked.
“I can’t tell you that,” Fred said.
“I tell you, you don’t have the time to be so delicate!” Mavis’s voice was quavering now. “Because if you don’t get this place in order, they’re going to let boys in here, and if that happens I don’t care if the place does shut down!”
“I’m not even going to think about that,” Charlotte murmured.
Mavis turned on Charlotte. “Maybe you’re not,” she said. “But I am. Because all of a sudden, it feels like Marjorie Boyd all over again around here.” Mavis’s shoulders started to shake. “Oh, damn, just what I need, a crying jag!” She stood up, turned quickly around, and moved very fast out the door, slamming it behind her.
“She loves this school,” Charlotte said, standing up too. “And she’s awfully frustrated, you know. It’s been a long struggle.”
“I know it has,” he said.
“Good,” Charlotte said. She turned away from him and moved toward the door. With her hand on the knob, she turned back to him “It wouldn’t be smart if you didn’t,” she said. Then she opened the door and left him.
IMMEDIATELY AFTER CHARLOTTE left, Margaret Rice took exactly one step into his office. “Karen Benjamin’s here for her ten-o’clock appointment,” she said. “She’s the editor of the school newspaper.”
“Good. Show her in.” Fred’s spirits rose. It was going to be fun to talk with a student after all these adults. He was glad that summer school would begin that week. When there were no students present, schools were dreary places.
“Uh-oh,” Margaret said. “The three teachers are back. As a matter of fact, they got back right after those two ladies showed up. They’ve been waiting.”
He said nothing.
“Well, don’t you want to see them now?”
“How can I? It’s ten o’clock. Karen’s right on time. All the way from Boston.”
Ms. Rice just stood there. “
Show her in, Ms. Rice.”
“All right, if that’s what you want.” Ms. Rice stepped back out of the office. “Go on in, dear,” he heard her say.
Karen Benjamin didn’t walk into the room; she darted. Moving with quick, birdlike motions, she closed the door to the office and turned to shake Fred’s hand. “I hate it when grown-ups call me ‘dear.’” She was short, very slight, dressed in a