"Aleksi Rychenkna, if you don't do this, I will slap you silly!" Julie glared at her. "Oliver's been riding you like a rented mule for a year, and all you ever do is take it. This is perfect for you!"
"It seems perfect, but it could be more of the same." Aleksi shifted, and Iggy lashed his tail in discontent at the disturbance. "What if Hutchinson only wants a translator he doesn't have to pay for?"
"Why don't you ask one of his students what he's like?"
"That's…" Aleksi stopped and blinked at Julie. "That's brilliant! He has four students now, and if I email them all, I might get an answer before tomorrow morning." She switched screens and did a search of the graduate student body.
"Why the rush? What's tomorrow morning?"
"Tomorrow I have to give him my answer." Aleksi had the four students' names, and was surprised that she had met two of them. She started composing individual emails to each.
"Again, why the rush?"
"Because he's transferring the samples on the twenty-sixth."
"And you get out of going home for Christmas! Bo-nus!" Julie knew what Aleksi's home life was like, but saying it like that just made Aleksi feel guilty.
A few hours later Alexi had two replies from Hutchinson's students. Both glowed with praise, urging her to take the offer, which she found surprising. Grad students tended to be jealous of their advisor's time, and sharing with an additional student cut that time by a significant percentage. She wondered at first if Dr. Hutchinson might have contacted them and coached them on how to respond to her inquiries, but then realized that she was being paranoid.
In the interim, she researched the project that Hutchinson had outlined, but there wasn't much. The digger, a Russian paleontologist named Sagadeyev, had not made the trip to the United States with his specimens. The subsequent years of unrest had left him destitute and working in a factory. He had died during the October revolution. Then Aleksi looked into each of Hutchinson's four students and discovered that one of them, Lonnie Westinghouse, was due to graduate at the end of the year. This explained part of the others' willingness to encourage a new addition; Lonnie was leaving, so a new student wouldn't change Hutchinson's workload.
She had just about made her decision when she received a third email, this one from Lonnie. It was short, but direct. She read, "Aleksi: Take it! He's been worrying about this project for a month! He needs help! You're perfect for it. L."
"Well, I guess that about does it." She fired off a thank you and sat up.
Iggy was back in his cage, and Julie was off to her parents' house in Connecticut for the holidays, so the apartment was hers. A glance out the window confirmed that it was already dark, so she closed the blinds and went to the kitchen to brew coffee and think about dinner.
Two heaping scoops of espresso in the filter, water, and push the button, then she opened the fridge and grimaced. Neither she nor Julie enjoyed cooking, so there wasn't much. She peeked under a foil wrapped dish and winced at the congealed mass of three-day-old tuna-noodle bake. She closed the fridge and went for the freezer. A box of frozen pizza hit the counter like a brick. She retrieved the Frisbee-like object from the container and cut it in quarters. Three went back in the freezer, and one went into the microwave. She paced the three short steps back and forth across kitchen, trying to compose her emails to Dr. Hutchinson and Dr. Oliver in her head.
"You're putting it off, Aleksi." But she wasn't stalling about the emails as much as the phone call to her parents.
She went to the bathroom while her dinner spun circles in the microwave, feeling an empathy with the whirling slice of pizza. Washing her hands, she glimpsed herself in the mirror and cringed. She scrubbed her face, hoping to add some color to her pallid features. She rinsed with hot water and rubbed vigorously with a towel, but other than adding a flush to her skin, the face staring back at her remained unchanged.
"A wonder Hutchinson didn't take one look and change his mind."
She often wished she could change her appearance, not to look more attractive, but just more professional. Unfortunately, she didn't know how or what to change. Makeup had never been her style. Her hair, a dirty blond that she hated, she generally tied back and forgot about. Her ears were pierced at her mother's insistence, and her father had made a number of very pretty earrings for her, but she rarely wore jewelry. Another sore point with her parents, who thought she should be married with kids by now.
The microwave dinged and she retreated from her damning reflection to the solace of strong coffee and hot pizza. Dinner for one.
She sat on the couch to eat, drafting her email to Dr. Hutchinson. Finally satisfied, she double checked it, added his address, and sent it off. The pizza was gone and her cup was empty, so she got up for a refill. Back on the couch less than a minute later, she stared in surprise at a reply from Dr. Hutchinson. She opened it and read.
Great, Aleksi! Welcome aboard. Would you like me to tell Oliver the news, or do you want to do it?
I'll round up the troops and we'll have an orientation meeting at Grendel's tomorrow evening. Say, 5PM for happy hour? First round's on me. We can all talk about the project, and maybe split up the work. I'll see what I can do about the January at GSAS series and the freshman Bio lab.
Thanks for the quick reply. I'll start the ball rolling…
Hutch
She stared at it, astonished that he'd offered to inform Dr. Oliver of the change. Was this for real, or some kind of test? If she took him up on the offer, would he think her weak or lazy? Was he manipulating her already?
"Shit." She had to answer him soon; he knew she was at her computer and would expect a prompt reply.
She made a decision and typed, "Thanks for the welcome, and the offer, but I'll notify Dr. Oliver of my decision. Tomorrow at 5pm is fine. Looking forward to meeting 'the troops'. Aleksi."
She double checked it and hit send. The last bit was a lie, of course, but she had to say it. She would rather a trip to the dentist than sit in a bar during happy hour. She tapped her foot and clenched her hands, staring at the screen. The reply popped up and she opened it with shaking fingers.
It read, "Cool. Offer's open if you change your mind. See you tomorrow. Hutch."
That was too easy. Then she realized that she had to write Oliver tonight and tell her she was leaving. Fortunately, she was much better at email than talking to people in person or on the phone. Of course, that reminded her that she still had to call her parents.
3
No, Mama, I can't come home. This is just too important, and Dr. Hutchinson can't change his plans." She listened to her mother go on as she poured coffee and pushed the toast down, then went to the fridge to find something for Iggy. She took out some romaine, celery, a squishy tomato, and a few grapes. By the time she had the knife in her hand and his bowl ready, the gushing concern that she was working too hard had devolved into questions, then blame.
"I wish I knew where I failed you. We'll have to change all our plans, and Christmas is only in three days! How could you do this to us, Aleksen'ka?"
"I didn't know until last night, Mama. I'm sorry." She diced a piece of lettuce, and a half stalk of celery one-handed, then held the phone with her shoulder to dice the tomato. "Dr. Hutchinson only asked me yesterday morning and I had to think about it."
"Think? What's to think about? High time you left that cyka, Oliver."
Aleksi nearly cut her finger; that was twice in twenty-four hours that someone called Oliver a bitch.
"So, this Dr. Hutchinson, is he single?"
"I don't know, Mama, and it's not like that." She cringed at the lie and started cutting the grapes in half. The toast popped up.
"Not like what? Is it wrong to ask?"
"Yes, it is, Mama. This is a professional relationship and that's all it's ever going to be." Throwing all of Iggy's food into a bowl, she retrieved the toast, slathered peanut butter on, balanced the plate, Iggy's bowl, and her coffee, and headed for the front room.
"
I wish you could come home, Aleksen'ka. Is your work so much more important than your father and me that you can't even see us for Christmas?"
"I'd have to come back the day after, and the trains are packed." That at least wasn't a lie; travelling to New York for the holidays was always a mess, and she dreaded hours on a crowded train.
"Papa could drive you."
Aleksi heard her father swear fluently in Russian in the background. "No, Mama." Aleksi put her coffee and her plate on the table and Iggy's bowl in his cage. He pounced on the food like a starved crocodile. At least I made someone happy this morning. "Papa's busy with the shop, especially this time of year. Maybe after the holidays I can come for a visit."
"And when will that be? When you have time from your busy schedule?"
"Mama, please don't start." Aleksi collapsed on the couch and stared at her breakfast while her stomach did flip-flops.
"Don't start? She cares more about old bones and her precious Harvard degree than her own mother, and she says don't start!"
Her father yelled at her loud enough for Aleksi to hear clearly, and her mother yelled back that he was too lazy even to drive a few hours to bring his own daughter home for Christmas. Aleksi held the phone away from her ear until the yelling subsided. She knew better than to hang up on her mother, but by the time she could speak and be heard, her breakfast was cold.
"Mama," she tried when the yelling had diminished. When she received no answer, she stood and took her coffee and toast to the kitchen. The bread hit the garbage, and her coffee went into a thermal travel cup. She headed for her room and grabbed her coat and boots. "Mama, I can't talk any longer. I have to go." That, finally, got a response.
"Go? Go where? You have no classes, and no research to do!"
"I have to study Dr. Hutchinson's project. We're meeting this afternoon with his other students to discuss it." That was partly true, at least. She could do the research here, but it was a good excuse to end the call. She would go to the library.
"Well, if you have to go…" Silence hung like a burial shroud on the line. "Call us when you know when you can come to visit, Aleksen'ka. It would be nice to see you."
No, it wouldn't, she thought, guilt twisting her gut. "I will, Mama. I'll call you in a few days."
"We love you, Aleksen'ka," her mother said, driving another nail through Aleksi's heart. "And we miss you."
"I'll look for something after the holidays. Hug Papa for me. I love you, Mama. Bye."
Aleksi hit 'end' and stuffed her phone in her coat pocket, then sat on her bed and jammed her feet into her boots. Sniffing back tears, she cinched the bows into knots. She went back to the kitchen, grabbed her computer bag, pocketbook, gloves, hat, keys and her travel cup, and left the apartment. It would be a cold walk to campus, but she needed the time to think, and maybe the frigid air would freeze her tears.
You sonofabitch!" Oliver burst into Hutch's office without so much as a knock, red faced and fuming. "You stole my student! What makes you think you have the right to take Alexi away from me? I ought to file a formal grievance with the graduate coordinator!"
"Feel free, Marilyn, but I didn't steal anything from you." He had been expecting her to be upset, maybe even angry, but she was positively livid. "I have a project that I thought she would be interested in, and she accepted."
"And you don't think that's stealing? Where do you get off thinking you can take whatever you want around here?"
"It's not stealing, because Aleksi is not a thing. She's a person, and is capable of making her own decision whether or not to stay with her current advisor or seek a new one." He placed his hands flat on his desk and reminded himself to keep his voice calm. Experience had taught him that raising his voice during a discussion, even when you were being yelled at, only made things worse. "If you started treating your students more like people and less like draft animals, they'd probably stick around."
"I do NOT treat my students like draft animals!"
"No? You loaded an extra lab and a January at GSAS seminar on a second year PhD student who doesn't have an accepted dissertation proposal yet, and has to take her comps this semester." He cocked his head and smiled at her. "That's overloading. File a grievance with the graduate coordinator, Marilyn. Please."
"Was that a threat?"
"No. That was a promise. Aleksi's a brilliant student and you were treating her like cheap labor. If you file a grievance against me, I'll file one right back against you. I think our records with our students speak for themselves."
"This isn't some backwater state college, Hutch; this is Harvard! Students are expected to work to earn their degrees here!"
"And how exactly would you know that, Marilyn? You've never attended a backwater state college." She glared at him, but he just smiled back. Oliver was Ivy League, through and through, and had never attended a public school in her life. She thought that made her better than everyone else, which only made her worse. Then he remembered that had Aleksi graduated from NYU, and the pieces fit together. "Is that why you were driving Aleksi into the ground, Marilyn, because she went to a state college?"
Oliver's face flushed red, and he knew he'd scored.
"I was NOT running her into the ground! She's capable of more than she thinks she is, and I was challenging her. That's how you make a student better. You're not doing yours any favors by coddling them, you know!"
"Ah, thanks for that. I'll just make myself a note." He grabbed a Post-it and actually wrote as he said, "Do not coddle students. Got it! Was there something else, because I've got a lot of work to do. This is Harvard, after all."
"Fine. Play your little games, Hutch, but if I find out you took her just to have someone to warm your bed, I'll have your ass kicked out of this university before you can say coitus interruptus."
He pushed down on the top of his desk and stood, truly angry now, but refusing to show it. "This discussion is over, Marilyn. Please leave. Now."
She sneered, looked him up and down as if he was a stain on her shoe, then whirled and stalked out. Her office door slammed hard enough to rattle the pictures hanging on his wall. Hutch sat down slowly and took a deep breath. He closed his eyes and took another, calming his mind and letting the stress and anger flow away with each exhalation. It was a simple yoga maneuver, but it worked. Three more breaths and he was centered, calm, and serene.
The truth was, in the two years since his divorce, he had had one very brief relationship with a student, but not one of his own, and not even in the College of Arts and Sciences. She had been a law student and it had lasted all of two weeks. The brief relationship had raised a few eyebrows, even though he'd broken no rules. Regardless, he'd broken it off—the attraction for both of them had only been physical anyway—and vowed to himself to keep his relationships extracurricular. No sense in giving people like Dr. Oliver ammunition.
He settled into work and put the issue out of his mind. He had more important things to do.
Aleksi gripped the steel handrail and eased down the icy steps into Grendel's Den. With a deep breath to steady her nerves, she nudged aside the heavy door. Dozens of conversations washed over her like a breaking wave. She fought down the urge to flee, jammed her hands in her pockets and scanned the confusion of light wood, tile table tops, and way too many people. She checked her phone for the time; just after five PM. Maybe she'd misunderstood.
The basement restaurant had been a Harvard square institution for forty years, but wasn't much to look at. In the summer they put tables outside, but in winter the bar was small and crowded. Aleksi had been here a few times, usually to grab a sandwich at lunch and sit alone at one of the tiny tables, ignoring the crowd and being ignored. It was crowded now because of happy hour, but Grendel's happy hour was half price food, not drinks. It was feeding time in the jungle of higher education, and the animals were hungry.
An arm waved from a corner table and she spotted Dr. Hutchinson. She worked her way through the crowd and stepped up onto the raised back
section of the restaurant. The table was already festooned with drinks, but no food. How long had they been here? Had they been talking about her?
Dr. Hutchinson waved at the single empty chair and grinned. "Glad you could make it, Aleksi," he said as she struggled out of her heavy coat and sat down. "One of the team couldn't make it, but three out of four isn't bad for winter recess. This is Lonnie Westinghouse, my senior student."
"Hi!" Lonnie grinned and stuck out a hand, her teeth looking too white against her dark skin. She wore her hair in tight plaits with beads that clattered as she moved. Aleksi shook the hand, surprised at the woman's strength.
Dr. Hutchinson waved to the two men. "John Alvarez, who's in his third year, and my youngster, Bob Tomlin, who's still got that confused look every first-year shares."
"Hey! I do not look confused!" Bob, young with short dark hair and a pleasant round face, scowled at his grinning supervisor. "I'm just…pensive."
"Terrified is more like it." John nudged the other with a smile that looked sinister with his short cropped black goatee and mustache.
"Terry Price, another third year of mine, couldn't make it. He flew out yesterday for California, but you'll meet him in January."
"Nice to meet you all." Aleksi forced a smile and tried to relax. She knew their faces from the web, and even knew where they'd done their undergraduate work, their majors, their areas of study, and their GPAs. She felt a little guilty about spying on them, then wondered if they had done the same to her.
"Welcome aboard!" Lonnie lifted her beer in toast.
"Thanks."
"I took the liberty of ordering nachos and quesadillas, but if you want anything more, feel free." As if on cue, a waitress arrived with two huge platters and everyone moved their glasses to make space. "The quesadillas are vegi. Hope you don't mind. What are you drinking, Aleksi?"
"Um, I don't usually…" The others were all drinking beer of various shades, but Aleksi had never liked beer. She thought about ordering a soda, but didn't want to seem like she wasn't one of the team, and ordering wine might seem aloof when the others were drinking beer. The waitress made a face and rolled her eyes, clearly impatient. "Irish coffee with no mint, please."
Dragon Dreams Page 3
