“No. It doesn’t affect the majors, only the faculty.” Williams looked up at Walter with a desperation he knew he’d never forget, not for the rest of his life. “I’ve lost my job, Walter. There’s no appeal. It’s simply gone. No matter how you slice it, I only have one semester left here at Hope.”
No, Walter wanted to shout, to cry, to scream, to pound the walls until they fell down. He didn’t do any of it, though, only collapsed into the chair Holtz had vacated, legless, as the rock he hadn’t even known he’d been clinging to rushed out of his grasp and into open sea.
Chapter Twenty-One
After he left Williams’s office, Walter wandered all over campus, ending up, naturally, at the campanile. The swans were nowhere in sight, however, which felt like a terrible omen.
He still couldn’t quite get his head around the fact that Williams was gone. Would be gone. Thoughts ricocheted inside him, denials, rages, plans, but nothing stuck. He didn’t know what to think, how to act, what to do.
The one light in the darkness was that Holtz didn’t seem to think the matter was settled. He wasn’t AAUP, but he had his hand well inside the Board of Regents, and as a thirty-year veteran professor, he was a favorite of scores of alumni. Holtz didn’t think Hope grads would like the idea of losing an entire department, especially communications, and he didn’t think Hope would stand their ground on such a controversial decision under the scrutiny of a scandal.
“It looks especially bad when they’re building new dorms and pushing the international student program so much. There’s no guarantee we can change their mind, but we can make a hard push in the next few months and see what we can get,” Holtz had said. “They always announce such things over a long break, hoping furor will die down in the shift. We’ll see to it, Jay, that it doesn’t.”
Holtz was Walter’s candle right now, and he clung to his vow all the way back across campus toward Porter. Halfway over the green, though, he changed direction and headed to Sandman instead, hoping against hope that Manchester hadn’t gone home already.
She hadn’t, because she had a big final in Communications Law the next morning. For half a second, Walter considered not telling her until after her test.
Then he realized what he’d think of someone who withheld intel on Williams’s trouble to him, and he told her anyway.
Rose cried.
It was weird how much that helped Walter—all of her reactions bled him a little, really, first her tears, then her rage, then her mad plans on how they would rally the troops to stop the insanity. He rode along on the tide, mostly relieved to be with someone else who felt outraged and betrayed, but when she pulled out a binder labeled Ways to Help Williams, he had to call time out.
“You mean you’ve been compiling this all year?” He flipped through the pages of potentially influential alumni, donors, and page after page of documents on academic tenure. She also had no less than six drafts of articles on why Williams deserved to keep his position and ten dummy letters to the editor. “Holy shit, Manchester. You’re a fucking force.”
“Except I never saw this coming.” She took back the binder, looking ready to cry again. “I don’t know how much of this will translate to the cutting of a position.” Grimacing, she shook her head. “I’m going to have to redo three-quarters of this over break.”
“Well send me some of it, and I’ll help. I’ll use this list you have here to start a Facebook group tonight—a lot of the grads will be on there. We can have the administration sweating before they go to their holiday party.”
“No—I mean, the Facebook group is a good idea, but we want to go carefully. Better to launch after the holidays when people are bored and lonely, not busy. This will give them something to do. And us time to plan.” She wiped at her eyes again. “I can’t believe they did this. I’m never going to sleep tonight.”
“You need to study for your final. Comm Law isn’t a walk in the park. Let me get started on this.”
“Don’t you have a final?”
“Digital Media. I just need to show up at nine and breathe.” He held his hand out for the binder. “Rose, you know I’m good for this. If there’s a way for us to save Williams, we’re going to fucking do it.”
She gave him the folder and kissed him hard on the cheek. “Oh my God, if you weren’t gay, I’d fuck you so hard right now. If you weren’t dating Kelly, I might at least try to blow you.”
Walter couldn’t help a grin. “No worries, my dick’s been well sucked today.” He glanced around the room. “God, it’s amazing how much more space a real double has.”
“Sandman’s bigger than Porter too. You and Kelly should’ve tried to move over break.”
“Air conditioner. Only Porter and the Manors have physical plant approval for them, and then only the singles. Which I think is bullshit, but, whatever. Besides, I like an excuse to make him sit in my lap.” He used the binder to give her a parting salute. “I’ll keep you posted on my progress.”
“Why don’t you stay here and work?” Rose nodded to her computer. “I’ll put on a pot of coffee, and for breaks you can reward me with signs of your progress. You can even crash on my roommate’s bed if you want. She left yesterday.”
Walter was about to tell her no, but then he thought about heading back to Porter, where the RA was likely ignoring at least three parties and the empty room would remind him that Kelly was already gone. Smiling sadly, he nodded. “I’ll go get my stuff and come back then.” He’d planned to leave after his final—nothing would give him greater pleasure than being done with his damn dorm earlier than previously scheduled.
He set down the binder, and Rose caught his wrist, squeezing it briefly, her eyes filling with tears again. “Thank you for coming to tell me. It means a lot.”
Walter winked and waved as he left the room, but he also had to wipe his eyes on the way down Sandman’s back stairs.
Walter didn’t end up telling Kelly about Williams until he was driving back to Northbrook, partly by accident and partly by design. He was too busy organizing Rose’s notes, altering them to fit the new situation, lining up a potential information loop. By the time he saw Kelly’s text announcing his arrival in Windom, it was after midnight. Maybe Kelly was up, maybe he wasn’t—at that point Walter didn’t think he could stand to rehash it all without at least a few hours of sleep, so he sent a benign, glad you’re safe, call you tomorrow on my way home, and declared it good. As soon as he got into his car, though, he set up his hands-free speakers and dialed Kelly’s number.
Kelly could tell something was wrong right off the bat.
“I’ll tell you,” Walter promised, “but first I want to hear how things are for you.”
“Well,” Kelly said, “they’re only okay. My dad dropped some news on the way back.”
Listening to Kelly tell about his mother’s job crisis hit too close to Williams’s troubles, and he quietly hated the soulless bureaucracies that ignored the fact that real people with families held the jobs they so casually tossed out the window. He realized Williams was likely home with his wife this morning, doing the same thing Kelly’s family was doing: trying to figure out how to live on one salary, trying to decide where and how to build their hopes.
When it came time for Walter to share his bad news, it got to him more than he’d intended to let it. He wasn’t quite as bad as Rose had been, but there wasn’t any hiding how much it upset him.
“I’ve never seen Williams looking so low. It made me ache, Kel.”
“I can’t believe they’re collapsing the department. That’s crazy.”
“No shit. They just hacked a big chunk off the value of my degree and anyone else graduating from communications at Hope. Not that it had a lot of value to lose.”
“You said there was talk of fighting if they denied him tenure. Can they fight for this?”
“Well, funny you should ask.” Walter told Kelly about Rose’s binder of aggression and the work he’d done on it so far.
Kelly listened while Walter bared his soul for over an hour, flipping from strategy to outrage to nervous predictions about what this all might come to. It hadn’t been what Walter intended to do, but once he got going, he couldn’t seem to stop himself, not until he was past Bloomington. That was when he realized how long he’d kept Kelly on the phone, how long he’d been gabbing on.
“Jesus, I’m sorry. Do you need to be with your family?”
“Oh no, it’s fine. I’m here alone until four when Lis gets home, at which time I get to drive her to youth group and come back to start dinner. Well, I don’t have to do the last part, but with everyone so stressed out, I thought it would be a nice surprise. Besides, apparently I’m going to be eating a lot of rice and beans unless I go find us some affordable vegetables.”
“In Minnesota in winter. Good luck with that.” The idea that the Davidsons were penny-pinching that hard made Walter feel guilty, especially when he knew he’d probably blow a few hundred dollars in junk takeout over the next few days. “When I come see you, I’ll bring a belated Christmas present of gourmet almond-free vegan goodies from Whole Foods.”
“God, could you come now?”
Walter wished he could. He’d had one passive-aggressive text come through from his mother this morning already. “Soon as I can, baby. Let me know when will work.”
“I already talked to Dad, and Mom a little. I think pretty much whenever you want after Christmas. Except I’ll warn you now my dad’s going to try and pay for your gas at least one way.”
“That’s crazy, but I get it. Manly pride. Well, I’ll slip a gas gift card in the food basket.”
“I miss you, Walter.”
Kelly’s confession wasn’t plaintive, only slightly wistful, which somehow made it wedge that much harder into Walter’s heart. “Miss you too, Red.” Like an arm.
“Don’t ever hesitate to call or text. If I can’t answer, I’ll call back as soon as I can. I want to hear how everything goes at home. And don’t let your mom get to you. You can be there for her, but you don’t need to bleed too.”
“Yes, sir.” The words didn’t come out quite with the mockery he’d wanted to lighten them up. He shifted his grip on the phone. “You call me too, anytime. I want to hear what you make for dinner, to start.”
“How about I call you later tonight,” Kelly said, his voice dropping to a seductive—if not slightly shy—tone.
Slow heat unfurled over Walter’s weary worry. “How about you do that. With your door locked and your pants off.”
“Mmm.” Kelly sounded less embarrassed now. “You know, I always wanted to try phone sex.”
Walter just bet he did. “I haven’t done it either. We’ll be virgins together.”
“God.” Kelly sighed. “I know this is pathetic, but I really hate that it’s going to be a week at the very least until I see you.”
Walter smiled, aching heart warming. “Well, that makes two of us who are pathetic, then.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
It turned out Kelly and Walter were a natural phone-sex couple, and Walter went to bed that night sated and more comforted than he’d expected after witnessing his mother and Tibby’s row at dinner. He wondered, as he drifted off to sleep, if that technique could work all break long.
The next morning, however, ushered in a full day of undiluted family, making it clear the confrontations and meltdowns would continue to jar his day at any given moment and usually when he was the most vulnerable. Like after fielding an upset call from Rose or realizing he was going to be lucky to see Cara once during his entire break, unless he skipped his Minnesota visit and hung around her back door. The few emails he’d exchanged with Williams didn’t help matters either—not that much would happen between the announcement and the end of break, but inactivity felt like lost ground. By the end of the first weekend he’d convinced Rose to let the Facebook group start, and it was heartening to see more than eighty people join in the first thirty hours. Everyone was full of outrage and ideas, and most of them had letters drafted, ready to submit to the school paper, or already submitted to the board. Mostly they were continuing to make plans, but it felt like progress, and progress was good.
His mom and Tibby were dual lead weights putting drag on any momentum toward even fleeting happiness at home. Worse, somehow Walter had internally become a drama queen—little things, sometimes tiny events, upset him. Each subtle dig they took at each other over breakfast, each fit over when Tibby would be allowed to go to the barn or buy Harper a new blanket set him on edge. Every one of his mother’s sighs while she washed dishes or flipped through a magazine made him tense up. He felt stupid, because there were no more big fights after that first night, but Walter reacted worse to that somehow than bloody knock-downs at every meal.
Kelly tried to soothe him, but that he needed soothing at all made Walter feel that much more ridiculous, so he took to soft-pedaling his reactions even though he ached to vent the odd emotions he couldn’t seem to control. He kept his focus forward, on his impending familial obligations and on his now-established trip to Windom on December 27. They’d decided to stay in Minnesota through the third of January and would make up their mind about spending the last six days there or in Chicago later.
In the meantime, unfortunately, Christmas had to be dealt with.
Walter had fun shopping for Kelly and his family—he still planned to get a big food basket on his way out of town, but in the meantime he dealt in non-perishables, like the vintage leather jacket in Boystown that had started it all and a swath of Doctor Who figures Kelly had picked up but put back down. He bought the Corruptible T-shirt too, and a less suggestive but still sassy Registered Princess one for Lisa. Never mind that Gaymart generally sold that one to proudly swishy gay men. Kelly’s parents were more difficult, mostly because he knew they’d be upset if he spent too much, though Walter very much wanted to give a token to each to show his willingness to please and impress them. He ended up getting Dick a handsome desk set at a Lakeview gift shop and a gorgeous mirrored chotskie box for Sue. Both were actually quite pricey but still seemed humble—they felt exactly like the message Walter wanted to send.
Not that Walter had any kind of a firm idea on what that message was.
Presents for his own family was the usual circle of hell, which made him sad, that he’d been so happy shopping for near-strangers but depressed making purchases for his flesh and blood. Part of the problem was nobody in his family wanted for money or things, so to make a splash with a gift he had to blow a serious wad, which wasn’t practical en masse and tended to make the next shopping season that much more impossible. As usual, he had to stick to predictable and boring. His sister was easy: listen for fifteen minutes about what it was she wanted from Dover Saddlery and then run to the Internet. His dad was even easier: golf balls, a few assorted crap ready-made gift sets from the Internet, and a big gift card. None of it was inspired, none of it would make them smile beyond the traditional thank-you version, half of it they’d not use or change their mind on by Christmas Day. Walter didn’t let himself care.
Grandma Marissa, his mother’s mother, was always the worst, because Shari Lucas hadn’t gotten her dark view of the world from a vacuum. After hours and hours of combing stores and online shops, Walter ended up ordering a handmade quilt from Etsy and hoping for the best. Probably she’d think it was shoddy construction or decide it was infested with bugs or something equally dismissive. If she didn’t like it, though, it would end up in Shari’s spare bedroom, and Walter could steal it for school.
Might as well be practical.
Grandma and Grandpa Lucas were moderately difficult, though that was only because they lived in New York. Since his parents’ separation, he’d barely seen them at all because they were angry with their son though hadn’t ever liked his wife. Grandma Claire wrote Walter letters every few months, and originally they’d intended to come to Chicago over New Year’s, but they’d started waffling on that even before Walter committ
ed to Minnesota. It would have been nice to see them, but not nice enough to skip Kelly for. They spoke on Skype instead a few days before Christmas.
“You look tired, Walter,” his grandmother said, frowning at her screen. Walter wished he could look into her eyes. She had soft, grey ones that had always made him feel like she was magic. In fact, when he’d been a kid he’d called her his fairy grandmother.
“It’s been a little rough here,” he confessed to her, immediately wishing he hadn’t been so forthcoming. Why did he keep spilling his guts like that? He didn’t want her to worry.
Claire frowned. “Is it your mother? Or your worthless excuse for a father? Do you want us to come?”
Backtrack, Lucas. “No, it’s fine. Just Christmas crazy.” He decided to distract her with something she’d love to hear. “I’m cutting out of Chicago right after Christmas too, so I’m getting ready for that. Heading up to Windom, Minnesota for New Year’s.”
“Minnesota?” Claire pulled a face. “Goodness, what for?” Walter smiled slyly in answer, and she gasped. “Walter Andrew, you scamp, do you have a boyfriend?”
“I do, Grandma,” Walter confessed.
It was fun to watch Claire clap in glee and pull Grandpa David over to look awkwardly happy for Walter too. In fact, for a full fifteen minutes Walter only had to grin and enjoy his grandmother melting down over the fact that she could finally talk about her grandson’s gay love life at the club.
“Walter, this is so wonderful. I’m so happy for you. You have to send me a picture. I’d ask if he’s cute, but with you, I know he must be.”
“He’s adorable.” God, now he wished he were going to see them. “If you guys come to Chicago, how long are you staying? Maybe I can arrange for you to meet him.”
Claire’s face fell. “It’s not going to work this time, honey, I’m sorry. But we’re going to make it work sometime in the spring, and I’d better meet your young man then.”
Love Lessons Page 22
