“That’s better,” he said, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. He continued to look at her CV. “You’ve taught thirteen different sections of creative writing?” He ran his finger along her application. “Are you really only twenty-six?”
“I got started early. Creative writing is where my true love lies, so I’ve made it a priority to teach during the summer, winter break, anytime I can find someone who’s committed to putting their thoughts on paper.”
He dropped the folder to the desk and leaned back in his chair. He had kind eyes, along with a fairly laid-back style. Not nearly as aggressive as many of the people she’d interviewed with. “How have you found the time to write a publishable dissertation and teach during your off time?”
“My partner is in the last year of a fellowship in surgical critical care at Brigham and Women’s. She’s taught me you don’t need to sleep at all.” She hoped that wasn’t wedging the issue in too firmly, but she was determined to be one hundred percent out of the closet.
There was a definite twinkle to his gaze when he nodded decisively. “I think I’d like to take a look at your dissertation.”
“Tell me what format you’d like, and I’ll have it to you by the end of the day. I aim to please.”
It happened every time. Once something that had really worried her was over, Hennessy’s mood skyrocketed. It wasn’t even that the interview had gone that well. The one at UMass a couple of months ago felt more like a first date than an interview, but that had resulted in a standard rejection letter. It was just that it was over. That was enough to make her feel like dancing.
She walked out of the building and tilted her face toward the sun, taking in the warm, May afternoon. If she never spent another day in Boston, she wouldn’t have complained, but she would admit, spring in New England was pretty darned nice. There was a fresh, flowery scent in the air that South Carolina’s spring plants couldn’t match. Boston one, South Carolina a thousand. The score was never going to even out.
A very nice looking woman crossed in front of her, and she had one of her annoyingly frequent bouts of déjà vu. She didn’t normally allow herself to girl-watch, finding it childish. But this time she couldn’t help herself. The sun caught the woman’s golden hair and suddenly Hennessy was a teenager again. How many times had her heart started to beat faster when she first spied that golden hair? But it wasn’t just the hair. It was the walk, the way the woman’s hips twitched when she moved, even the set of her shoulders…
Her heart almost stopped, like something had grabbed it and wouldn’t let it beat normally. Before she could stop herself she flew across the street, not bothering to look for traffic. “Townsend!”
The woman stopped, turned and gave Hennessy a smile that melted her heart. She didn’t say a word. She just opened her arms and Hennessy fell into her embrace. Like landing in the arms of an angel. How could her hold still be this strong?
Townsend was the first to pull away. She stayed very close though, with her lovely eyes scanning Hennessy’s face. The tips of her fingers glided over her features, a wry smile settling. “Did you get prettier all at once? Or just a little bit year-by-year?”
“If I could catch my breath, I would’ve asked you the same. God, you look fantastic.”
“Thank you. I’m doing pretty well. How about you? Is it Dr. Boudreaux?”
“It is,” Hennessy said, ducking her head. “The ceremony was two weeks ago.”
“So…are there two doctors in the family?”
“There are. But one of us still has a little ways to go until she can hang out her shingle.”
Townsend slapped her on the shoulder. “You can’t be serious! It’s been five years!”
Whenever she heard the actual time, it seemed like a joke. But it wasn’t. “I know. Believe me, I know. Kate completed her general surgery residency a year ago. Now she’s finishing the first year of a two-year critical care fellowship at Brigham and Women’s. But after that…” She rubbed her hands together. “The big bucks will start rolling in.”
Those lovely green eyes floated over her for a few seconds. “I’m finished for the day. How about you?”
“I’m as free as a bird. Kate’s on an eighteen-hour shift, and won’t be home until four or five in the morning.” She let out a wry chuckle. “She keeps vampire hours.”
“Why don’t we have dinner?”
A headful of competing thoughts buffeted her. The idea of seeing Townsend and Jenna together was actually repellant. And, of course, Kate wouldn’t like it. But even if Kate didn’t mind, it was insane to rekindle the feelings she’d fought so hard to tamp down. Hard work at Al Anon had taught her to resist an impulse when it felt too charged. But she hesitated just a second before saying, “I can’t think of anything I would enjoy more.”
Townsend’s gaze hadn’t moved from Hennessy’s face, but a bit of trepidation colored her voice. “I live about five minutes from here. I’ll cook?”
She would have to tell Kate. It wasn’t even an option to hide something like this. Being alone together was bad enough, but going to Townsend’s apartment was totally off the menu. But some things were worth paying the fine for. “Lead the way,” Hennessy said, ordering her conscience to shut up.
They started to cross Boston Common, the little patch of green where every kid in town was out enjoying the warm day. Spring had been late to come, showing up in fits and starts. Witch hazel blooms froze on the trees, then crocus peeked out, only to wither and die after a deep frost. But there was no doubt about it now. Magnolias were in full bloom up and down Commonwealth Avenue, and the air bore the sweet perfume of hyacinth.
Hennessy was tempted to grab Townsend’s hand and run, to gambol through the park like they had when they were kids. But she slowed almost to a stop when a troubling image crept into her brain. It was a tough question to phrase properly, since she had no idea of where things stood, but she did the best she could. “Will…Jenna be home?”
Townsend waited a beat before she replied. It was only one word, and she tossed it off casually. “Probably.”
Hennessy’s heart sank and she started to think of excuses to skedaddle.
Then Townsend turned and gave her a wan smile. “We can call her to check, but I can’t imagine where else she’d be.” Her expression was almost devoid of emotion, but Hennessy could see the storm clouds in her eyes. “The last time we talked she was trying to stay in her room as much as possible, hoping her parents would forget about her. But that’s not going to happen. She’s going to have to pick some poor dope and marry him.”
Hennessy instinctively grasped Townsend’s arm. “I’m so sorry.”
“So am I. But you can’t say I’m a quitter.” Letting out a soft laugh, she added, “Alcohol was easy compared to women. I’m forever addicted to them.”
“What happened? Did she go on her mission?”
“Yeah. To the Philippines, of all places. Poor thing had to learn Tagalog, a language she never mastered and will never need to use.”
“Did you…did you go to England for your junior year?”
Townsend laughed. “No, I didn’t get to. But I got to spend a semester in Switzerland, and I was able to stay with my dad. It was good—for both of us.”
“That’s great!”
“Yeah, yeah it was. He’s a pretty good guy.”
Hennessy knew she was pressing it, but she had to know what had happened. “After Jenna’s mission was over…?”
A composed, almost serene expression settled onto Townsend’s face. She seemed so mature, her affect definitely older than her age. Hennessy didn’t know this Townsend well, and found herself completely unable to read her thoughts the way she used to be able to.
They’d been walking at a good clip, with Townsend’s shorter legs surprisingly making Hennessy have to kick it up a gear to keep up with her. The Tadpole Playground, one of Hennessy’s favorite spots to sit and people watch was just to their left, and Townsend slowed down and took a seat on a
bench, with shrieking kids flying around the space, watched carefully by their minders.
Townsend’s gaze was fixed on the kids, but when she spoke her voice carried none of their playfulness. “Jenna tried to meet me halfway. Instead of transferring to BYU, she went to Utah State—and I moved there to be with her. I hung in there like a pit bull.”
“Damn,” Hennessy breathed. “What happened?”
She didn’t answer for a minute, and Hennessy’s stomach clenched when she saw her reach up and wipe a tear from her eye. “She loved Jesus more than me.” A remnant of the familiar old Townsend, the one who could always find a way to turn anything into a joke added, “That makes me sound awfully full of myself. I’m pretty great, but I’m not actually a god.”
Hennessy found that she’d scooted over and automatically draped her arm around Townsend’s shoulders. It felt like it belonged there. Not a trace of discomfort. “You’re a goddess. I’m just sorry she couldn’t see that.”
“I am, too. But she tried, Hennessy. She tried so hard.” She bit at her bottom lip, leaving a faint dent in it. “We still love each other, but I couldn’t stay in the closet any longer. And she couldn’t tell her family the truth.” She swallowed, and closed her eyes briefly. When they opened, they were bright with tears, but her voice had a lilt to it. “I’ve moved on. After a few stumbles, I recently started to date a pretty amazing woman.”
“Yeah? Tell me about her.”
“Her name’s Nicole. I met her when she taught a class I took at a cool little writer’s collective in town.”
“My dream job!”
Townsend gazed at her, clearly puzzled. “You’re not going to teach at a university?”
“Long story.”
Townsend reached up and clasped her dangling hand. “We’ve got all night.”
Townsend’s apartment was exactly what Hennessy would have bought if she’d had unlimited funds. A spacious, high-ceilinged two bedroom on Mt. Vernon, right next to the Massachusetts State House, probably decorated by a professional or two. When Hennessy stood in the front windows, she had a lovely view of the gated entrance protecting the golden-domed, red-brick building that nearly screamed of the important work happening inside, accomplished by important people. “Not bad at all,” she teased. “Kate and I could have a place like this—if we had ten roommates to share the rent.”
Townsend politely didn’t acknowledge Hennessy’s more modest financial status. Instead, she clapped her hands together and headed for the kitchen. “I know you can cook, so you’re in charge of making a salad. I’ll concentrate on the entree.”
The main room was long and rectangular, with a big, mostly white kitchen at the other end. A hearth with a working fireplace took up one wall. A big island sat in front of it, topped by a soapstone counter, with four stools perched under the overhang.
“Maybe we should order a pizza,” Hennessy said, moving around the island to survey the professional-looking cooktop and white farmhouse sink. “This kitchen’s too nice to get it dirty.”
Townsend opened the doors to a narrow pantry, assessing her supplies. “I cook almost every day.” She turned and gave Hennessy a wry smile. “I figured out how to channel my addictive urges. Now I clean instead of taking a big hit off a bong.”
The place practically gleamed. “It honestly looks like it’s never been used. Gramma would be very proud of you.” A magnetic hook on the refrigerator held an apron and Hennessy started to put it on.
“Let me lend you some sweats. You don’t want to ruin your dress.”
“Kate’s. I still don’t own one.”
“Then you don’t want to ruin Kate’s dress. I’ll be back in a sec.”
Hennessy poked around in the refrigerator, finding plenty of ingredients to make a colorful salad. When Townsend returned with sweats and a T-shirt she said, “When did you turn into a health nut? I’ve never seen so many vegetables.”
“I got into the habit when I was still in Vermont. You remember Art, right?”
“Of course.” She remembered crying her eyes out in front of the poor guy while Townsend nursed a horrible hangover, but she thought it best not to bring up that particular memory.
“He worked on me for a whole year before he convinced me that feeding myself healthy meals was a good way to have control. It was hard to be in restaurants at first, with servers pushing drinks and wine.” She chuckled. “I looked like I was twelve, but I still had fake IDs I’d paid really good money for. I started to cook as soon as I got my apartment, and I’ve kept it up.”
“Is it…is it still hard?”
She put her hands on the smooth counter, looking like a judge about to hand down a sentence. Her eyes twitched a little as she thought, then her head shook. “Honestly? No. Not any more. But I’ve had some tough times.” She swallowed, then moved over to a cabinet to remove a package of pasta. “Luckily, my psychiatrist saw I was about to crash and she put me on medication for a while. I had to go back on for a few months after Jenna and I finally broke up last year, but other than that…” She met Hennessy’s eyes and showed a sad smile. “Maybe I should stay single, given I’m only shaky after a breakup.”
Hennessy could have vomited. Her stomach clenched so fiercely she had to white-knuckle the counter for a few seconds. She wasn’t sure if it had happened after she’d gone to France, or after she’d returned, but she was clearly the cause of one of Townsend’s near slips. With a hand that was suddenly ice cold, she reached out and gripped Townsend’s arm. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
“All for the best,” Townsend said brightly, clearly lying. “Other than those little blips, it’s been smooth sailing.” She reached into her blouse and caught a gold chain on her finger. “Still wearing my chip.”
Once again, Hennessy was overcome. She pulled Townsend into a robust hug and whispered, “I’m so proud of you.” When she let go she added, “You need a new chip. A nice, big one for five years. Then another, big as a manhole cover, for ten.”
“No, thanks. This one means…” She bit her bottom lip and shook her head. Extending the clothes, she pointed at a door. “Bathroom’s right there.”
They moved around each other seamlessly, like they’d been cooking together for years. Townsend made a sauce for pasta while Hennessy created the salad. Then she sat on a stool and watched as Townsend tasted her sauce and adjusted the seasonings.
“Okay. It’s a year ago. You just got back to Boston from Utah. Keep rolling.”
Her tongue darted from her mouth and took another quick lick of the wooden spoon. “Not enough pepper.” After placing a few more grindings into the pan she said, “That was the dark time.” Her body shivered noticeably. “I had nothing going on, a broken heart and hours of time to fill. I couldn’t have set myself up better to drink.” Her eyes narrowed and Hennessy could see her resolve. “So I did exactly what I did…before.” She didn’t say it, but the sadness in those lovely green eyes made it clear she was talking about when they’d agreed to cut their ties. “I rowed on the Charles in the morning, went to two or three meetings a day, and volunteered at a place in the Back Bay that prepares lunch for homeless women.” She walked over to a large cupboard and took out a new bottle of olive oil. “Many of the women are alcoholics, as you’d guess. Seeing them every afternoon reminded me I was just like them. One drink.” She held up a finger. “One little drink and I could be right there.”
“You’ve made nothing but good choices.” Hennessy was about to tear up again, but she couldn’t contain herself. Her admiration for Townsend’s dogged determination to stay sober had her emotions bubbling out of her.
“After years and years of really shitty ones,” she said, a little of her impish side showing.
“Just a couple of years,” Hennessy scoffed. “Maybe three. You’ve been sober longer than you drank. Think about that.”
She smiled, her eyes sparkling. “I didn’t do the math on that. You’re right. That’s nice to think of.”
“It
should be. So what did you do after you got over your rough period?”
“I got serious about writing. I started on an MFA when I was in Provo, and next week I’m going to finish up at Emerson.”
“Are you serious? Can you put in a good word for me with the head of the English department?”
“Wish I could, but I’ve managed to skim through and never meet the guy.” Her eyebrows waggled dramatically. “I shouldn’t gloat, but I’ve got a job. A good one.”
“Goddamn it! You’re a year younger than I am. I should get a job first!”
For just a second, Townsend looked a little embarrassed. “I’m uhm…” She shook her head. “I’ll just tell you. My mom has been back to camp every year to lecture in the writing program.”
“I knew that. I read the newsletter every quarter.”
“Good. So you know that Mary Ann ran an adult section this winter.”
“I do indeed.”
“Well, I attended.” A big, old-style Townsend grin settled onto her face, making her look like a sixteen year old kid again. “This time I didn’t try to make the instructor cry or faint.”
Hennessy smiled at the memory. “One of the most…no, the most memorable story I’ve ever had to critique. And believe me, I’ve critiqued thousands of them.”
“Thank you, thank you. I believe in doing a good job, or not doing it at all.” She twitched her head to send her hair back over her shoulder, a habit Hennessy recognized as one she used while she organized her thoughts. “I spent most of the session letting an idea percolate, and at the end of the term I made a proposal. Mary Ann spent a few weeks thinking about it and…we’re going to expand the program permanently.”
“Expand it how? When? Why?” Shaking her head, Hennessy laughed at her own rapid-fire interrogation. “Maybe I’d learn more if I shut my mouth and let you talk.”
Townsend tasted the sauce once again, leaning over the stove to breathe in the spicy scent. She stood and turned the heat all the way down, then moved over to stand next to Hennessy. “I pointed out that the winter program could easily run every year.”
The Right Time Page 41
