before she had a chance to say anything. “Speaking of which, Ginny,” he said, “I need you to stop by my office tomorrow around one. I’m more than a little concerned by this theory of religion course you’re teaching this semester. I’ve had a chance to look over the curriculum, and I think we need to talk.”
“What?” She stared at him openmouthed. He couldn’t be serious.
“We’ll talk tomorrow.” He waved his hand in dismissal, and Joyce gave her a parting smile—not so sweet this time, Ginny thought.
“You need a refill?”
Ginny’s eyes flickered upward. Marjorie stood over her with a pot of coffee in her hand. Ginny nodded. “Thanks,” she said. Marjorie filled her cup to the brim, then returned to the counter where she was talking with some young man.
Ginny sipped her coffee. Gregory was one miserable son of a bitch.
Oh, I’ll come to your office tomorrow, but you’d better be prepared to fire me, because you’re getting it with both barrels. No one interferes with my curriculum—especially not someone who thinks Joyce Davenport is a fine example for my students.
11
All three people in the dining room of the Yellow Bird turned their heads when the bell over the door rang once again and Bonnie Warner stepped inside.
Bonnie was bone tired. She needed a quick cup of joe to take with her, to propel her the last couple of miles back to Wilbourne. She knew the outside gates to the college had already been locked, but that didn’t concern her. It was the eleven o’clock lockdown of Bentley Hall that was more problematic. Once Bentley was locked down for the night, no one was getting in—or out.
“Coffee, please, to go,” Bonnie said, standing at the corner.
Marjorie nodded, and turned to fill the order.
Bonnie’s eyes made contact with the young man seated near her on a stool. She nodded at him.
“You got to Wilbourne?” the man asked.
“Yes,” Bonnie told him.
“Out kind of late,” he said.
She shrugged. “I have a job in town.”
He nodded, returning to the last of the french fries on his plate.
All Bonnie needed was to chug down the coffee and hop back on her bike and she’d be back at the college in practically no time at all. She glanced at her watch. She still had plenty of time, but she knew tonight she was pushing her luck. But Amy had actually been making progress tonight—Bonnie couldn’t just take off in the middle of explaining why x times y equaled z. Tutoring algebra was a delicate assignment. When the kid’s brain was finally showing some signs of comprehension, Bonnie needed to stick with it and make sure all the points were made.
“Here you go, honey,” Marjorie said, handing her the coffee in a large Styrofoam cup with a secure lid.
“Thanks,” Bonnie said, paying her.
That’s when her eyes lit on the woman in the booth, who was also watching her. Shit! It was Dr. Marshall.
She couldn’t bolt. Dr. Marshall had seen her.
Bonnie took a long breath, then walked over to where Dr. Marshall was sitting.
“Hello, Bonnie,” the older woman said.
Bonnie decided simply to throw herself on Dr. Marshall’s mercy. She liked Dr. Marshall. She had a reputation for being fair. She wasn’t whacked out on authority like so many of the other professors at Wilbourne.
“Dr. Marshall, please don’t tell the dean you saw me,” Bonnie pleaded.
The professor smiled. “Bonnie, you know only upper-classmen are allowed to be off campus at this hour.”
“I know. But I have a job.”
“A job?” Dr. Marshall looked perplexed. “Again, only upper-classmen can hold off-campus jobs.”
“I know, I know. But I’m not a rich girl like so many of the other kids, Dr. Marshall. Somehow I’ve got to find a way to pay for books for the new school year.”
Dr. Marshall looked at her kindly. “What kind of job do you have?”
“I tutor a seventh-grader. The kid’s having major troubles with algebra. I saw the ad her mother placed in a local paper and so I called, and now I ride back my bike into town to see her. Her mother is so grateful, and the kid’s finally making progress.”
“I see. So you’ve been away from campus all evening?”
Bonnie nodded. “I missed the welcome ceremony.”
Dr. Marshall smiled wryly. “Well, count yourself lucky on that score.” Her smile turned warmer. “But you’ll be reprimanded for missing it. They’ll see you didn’t sign in…”
“Oh, no, Tish Lewis said she’d sign me in.”
“I did not hear that.”
“I’m sorry, Dr. Marshall, but I need the job…”
“Okay, Bonnie, I won’t say anything. But please—try to arrange your visits to the girl during daytime hours, so you won’t risk getting caught again.”
“Oh, thank you, Dr. Marshall.”
The older woman thought of something. “But the outside gates are locked. I’ll need to give you a lift and—”
“No, no, it’s fine. One of the seniors gave me the code for the gate.”
Dr. Marshall sighed. “Do not tell me her name. Then I’d be covering up for three wayward students.”
“Oh, thank you so much, Dr. Marshall. You’re great!”
“Just please rearrange your tutoring schedule, okay?”
Bonnie nodded. She waved good-bye to Dr. Marshall and turned to head back out into the night. As she neared the door, the young man at the counter called over to her.
“Hey, do you need a ride back to the college? It’s pretty dark out there.”
Marjorie was leaning over the counter next to him. “It’s okay, honey. He’s a cop. You can trust him.”
Bonnie smiled. The man had a kind face.
“Thanks anyway,” she said. “I have my bike.”
“Well,” the young cop said, “be careful.”
“I grew up Brooklyn,” Bonnie told him. “Believe me, I know how to take care of myself. Lebanon is like paradise compared to the streets I grew up on.”
The bell jingled again as she left the Bird.
It
