Veritas

by Anne Laughlin

  Beth placed her hands gently on Sally’s shoulders, pushing her against the back wall of the dugout, pivoting to face her and sit on top of her thighs. Beth thought they might be trembling a little bit.

  “That’s an awful lot of news to tell me all at once,” Beth said. “Let’s just concentrate on the first thing you said.”

  Sally kept her eyes on Beth’s. “You mean about wanting to park my truck in your drive?”

  Beth smiled. “Yes. Exactly that.”

  Sally’s response was muffled when Beth’s lips met hers, her hands holding both sides of Sally’s face. Sally’s hands came up to Beth’s hips and pulled her closer as the kiss deepened and lengthened. They kissed until Beth realized she had moved so she could rub herself against Sally’s thigh—her very rigid thigh—and that things were about to get completely out of control. Sally, in response, moved her thigh up and pulled Beth more firmly down on it.

  “Can we go somewhere?” Beth asked, her voice husky.

  Sally nodded and stood with Beth still in her arms. She placed her down on the dugout floor and then led her by the hand to the squad car.

  “Are you okay?” Sally asked.

  “I’m a little, um, agitated, I’d say, but in a good way. For once.”

  “Yeah?” Sally sounded relieved.

  “Yeah, a very good way.”

  “Thank God.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I was nervous,” Sally said.

  “You were nervous? I was really nervous, until you told me how you felt, that is.”

  “You didn’t kiss me like you were nervous.”

  “I was a little nervous then, but mostly I wanted to touch you.”

  Sally’s phone rang as she opened the passenger door for Beth. She picked up the call as she got in behind the wheel.

  “Ted, where are you?” Sally looked at Beth as she talked, holding her thumb and index finger an inch apart. Beth kept her eyes on Sally. She wanted her badly. She scootched over and put her left hand on Sally’s thigh and then moved it a little higher. It went all rigid again. Good, Beth thought. She’s going crazy as well.

  “Okay, Ted. Stick with it. Don’t give up now.”

  Sally closed her phone and then pulled onto the street, accelerating east out of town.

  “Where are we going?”

  “To my place. You can meet my dogs.”

  “Yippee.”

  Sally grinned. “I hope you mean that, ’cause they’re part of the package.”

  “Oh, I like dogs, in general. I just don’t like dogs at this particular moment.”

  “Why is that?” Sally asked.

  “Because I only have enough focus for you right now. How far to your place?”

  “It’s just two miles.”

  “Can you use your lights and sirens?” Beth asked.

  Sally shifted uncomfortably as Beth kept her hand on her thigh, moving it up and down and over into very dangerous territory. She grabbed Beth’s hand and held it tightly for the rest of the short ride while Beth nibbled on her neck.

  “If you don’t stop this while I’m driving, I’m going to handcuff you,” Sally said.

  “Please don’t tease me, Chief. I’m about to explode as it is.”

  Sally dealt with the dogs while Beth took a quick look around the kitchen and living room of Sally’s house. It didn’t surprise her that everything was neat and well organized, but it did surprise her to see the furnishings and art work that spoke of a good eye and an appreciation for modern design and style. More Manhattan than Mount Avery. Beth sat on the sofa and soon Sally joined her.

  “Let’s reenact that moment in the dugout,” Sally suggested.

  “That moment when I first kissed you or the moment I almost, um, had an orgasm?”

  “The first. I promise to have you in my bed for the second.”

  And she did.

  *

  At three in the morning, not long after realizing that they couldn’t possibly make love one more time and were giving in to sleep, Beth’s cell phone alarm went off, waking them both up. Sally scrambled for her phone.

  “It’s mine,” Beth said. “I’m supposed to call London.”

  “Forget it.”

  “Good. I don’t think I can do it.” Beth was practically slurring her words.

  “Yeah, forget it. We’ll call first thing in the morning.” Beth was just drifting off when Sally said, “How about your mother?”

  “My mother?”

  “Won’t she worry if you don’t come home all night?”

  “She never did when I was a teenager. I doubt she will now.”

  Silence.

  “You should call her,” Sally said. “My mother would be frantic.”

  “How old are you?”

  “No, I mean if she were staying with me and I was gone all night, she’d expect the worst. That’s normal for mothers.”

  Beth sighed. “Ay, there’s the rub.”

  “What?”

  “Shakespeare. I just mean that my mother is not normal. Don’t worry about it.”

  “Would that be William Shakespeare or his sister?” Sally asked. She was now leaning up on an elbow, her hand finding Beth’s breast.

  “His sister?” Beth’s eyes opened and she looked up at Sally. “What are you talking about?”

  Sally smiled. “John Barrow apparently thought it was a feminist conspiracy to suggest that Shakespeare’s works were written by his sister.”

  “How can you be this awake?” Beth closed her eyes again, holding Sally’s hand to her breast.

  “Why don’t you just leave your mother a message so she doesn’t panic in the morning?” Sally whispered.

  “You’re not getting how unnecessary this is. Soon you’ll learn that the idea of my mother panicking is comical. You should hire her on your police force—she’d be great on a SWAT team.” Beth turned to find her jeans on the floor and pulled out her cell phone. “I’ll text her.”

  “Your mother does texting?”

  “She has the unlimited plan.” Beth punched in a message and threw the phone on the floor. “Can we sleep now?”

  Sally gathered her up in her arms and poised her lips over Beth’s. “Do you want to sleep now?”

  “I do, but I’m open to persuasion,” Beth said, pulling Sally down to her.

  Chapter Fourteen

  When Beth walked in the door to her house Monday morning, she found her mother sprawled on the sofa, remote in hand. The TV flickered as she scrolled through channels.

  “I’m bored, Beth. Really, really bored.”

  “I’m not talking yet. Is there coffee on?”

  Mae followed Beth into the kitchen. “I just made a fresh pot. Who were you with last night? The auto mechanic?”

  “No, the police chief.” Beth poured a cup and started drinking the coffee as if it were medicine. “And I’m not talking.”

  “I like the police chief. She’s solid. You could do a lot worse.”

  Beth thought her mother had perhaps understated the case, but she agreed with her and she found that unsettling. She remained silent and Mae left the room to resume her channel surfing. Beth picked up the kitchen phone and called to check her office voicemail.

  “Dean, it’s Cora at President Landscome’s office. He’d like to see you here at nine this morning, if that’s convenient for you. Frankly, even if it’s not convenient for you. Would you give me a call to confirm, please?”

  The stove clock showed 8:45. Beth was in need of a shower—surprised that her mother didn’t say anything about her smelling like sex—and in no mood to have her happiness destroyed by Nigel Landscome. She picked up the phone and told Cora she’d be there at 9:30, without offering any explanation, and then hurried to get ready and to her own office in time to make the phone call to London.

  Cora showed Beth into Landscome’s office at 9:40, and Beth could see from his furrowed brow that he was not happy with her.

  “Dean. So pleased you could join
me. Not a terrible inconvenience, I hope?”

  “I had some matters I had to see to first thing this morning, so I got here as soon as I could. What can I do for you?”

  They sat in their accustomed places, she on one of the leather chairs facing his desk, chairs that were slightly, but noticeably lower than she thought they should be, and he behind the massive desk, his leather executive chair pumped up just a little higher than you’d expect. She imagined his legs dangling, the tips of his cap-toed shoes just touching the floor.

  “Obviously, Dean, we have a lot of ground to cover. Will you report to me everything you know about the murder of John Barrow and what’s being done to deal with the situation here on campus?”

  It was strange, Beth thought, that he’d never called her yesterday for such a report. She knew from Sally that Landscome had arrived late on Saturday. Jet lag aside, there was time on Sunday to pick up the phone. She gave him a full report of the security measures taken on campus, the announcements made to students and parents. She told him what she knew of the investigation, which was basically that the police were interviewing people associated with the tenure controversy.

  “The chief asked me to release the names and contact information of everyone on the tenure committee and I made the decision to do so.”

  “That’s appropriate. This is a murder investigation. We have to help however we can.”

  “Okay. I’ll get her that information this morning,” Beth said.

  “There doesn’t seem to be any other line of inquiry?”

  “Not that I’m aware of. Why, can you think of anything about Barrow that the police should be aware of?”

  “Of course not. The idea of anyone having a reason to kill him is absurd. He was a good man.”

  “That reminds me. I was following up on getting copies of Barrow’s letters of recommendation. I called the LSE this morning to ask them to forward a copy to me, and they claim not to have any letters at all in his file.”

  Landscome’s eyebrows drew together. “Is that what delayed you for our meeting? Why did you do that? I told you I would provide you with copies.”

  “Yes, several times. I thought I’d save you the trouble. I know how busy you are. But our file really needs to be complete, especially with the police asking for it.”

  “I think the source of the confusion here is that many universities now have a policy where they are not taking any responsibility for recommendations coming from their files. Too much liability, apparently, when a recommended employee goes wonky at their new place of employment. That must be what happened here.”

  “Where did you get the letters from?” Beth asked.

  “From Dr. Barrow, of course. I don’t know why Cora’s been unable to find them. I’ll have her do a thorough search today.”

  Beth decided to leave it at that. Landscome was clearly scrambling a bit, and none too artfully. Beth had not heard of any such policy at universities in regard to referrals at the professor level, and she felt she would be in a much better position to know that than Landscome. Talk about wonky.

  “Dean, the other reason I brought you in this morning was to discuss a sad but entirely necessary decision I’ve had to make about our staffing level.”

  “What is that?” Beth suspected it was Cora who had leaked the information that came to Delilah and she didn’t want to jeopardize her job by letting on she already knew about the layoffs. Knew, but had held off thinking about by having sex with Sally for hours.

  “With full authorization from the board of trustees, and with the goal in mind of balancing our budget and ensuring the long-term financial health of the college, I’m ordering a reduction in staff.”

  Beth tried to look startled. “We just had layoffs last year before you arrived. The administrative staff is already running on empty. I think it’s a terrible mistake.”

  “Frankly, Dean, I expected you to say as much. And to be equally frank, your opinion doesn’t concern me. I want you to begin notifying the employees on this list.”

  “Wait a second. Why should I be involved if you’re laying off admin staff? Shouldn’t that be the V.P. of Operations?”

  “It will be, for the administrative people. You are informing all of the adjuncts. They must go as well.”

  Beth gave Landscome a hard look before rising and pacing about. She was very close to yelling, screaming, stomping the floor, leaving the room and slamming the door, or calling him a fucking idiot. Out loud. She was tired. She wanted to be happy, like she’d been the night before with Sally. It felt very hard to keep up the fight.

  “If you reduce our faculty further, you are going to endanger the quality of the teaching at this school. That alone will threaten the financial future of this institution. Its reputation is everything.”

  “I agree it’s not something we would want to do. But we have no choice. The faculty will have to sacrifice just as everyone else has. Here are the names of the adjuncts and the non-tenured assistant professors.”

  Beth took the list and scanned it. The English department seat made vacant by John Barrow’s death had been eliminated completely, which meant Katie Murphy was out of a job.

  “It’s bad enough that you are giving this order without any apparent sense of the damage it’s doing. But why now? Why in the immediate aftermath of a campus crisis?”

  Landscome pushed his chair back and rose, heading toward the door of the office to signal the end of the meeting. “The two things could not be less related. We have to move on, business as usual. This is never an easy thing in the life of a leader, but as president I am left to make the hard choices. You are left to carry them out.”

  Beth walked through the door and turned to say a last word, but the door was being shut in her face. She felt tears of frustration threatening to spill over. Cora eyed her sympathetically.

  “How do you stand it, Cora?”

  “I drink a lot. And I retire next year. It helps.”

  “I’m not going to do either, but neither am I going to carry out these orders.” Beth looked at the closed door. “And if he just heard me say that, so much the better.”

  Beth crumpled up the piece of paper and threw it in the garbage before leaving. As if on autopilot she walked across campus and headed for town, down the hill, across Main Street, and then east a block or so to the police station. She wanted to see Sally, rather desperately. For once, she enjoyed the rich and sweet feeling of feeling sure of her lover, of not trying to look to the uncertainty beyond. If she went to Sally, Sally would be there for her, and that was all she wanted at the moment.

  A stout female sergeant stopped her at the front desk. Beth paced as the sergeant called Sally, and relaxed when Sally came out and took her back to her office, closing the door behind her.

  “What’s up?” Sally asked. “You look like a caged animal.”

  “That bastard Landscome is making me lay off all of the adjunct faculty. It’s going to kill this college.”

  “Sit down here for a minute and just try to relax.” Sally sat next to Beth and took her hand. “Let me know what I can do.”

  “I don’t even know why I’m here,” Beth said. “I walked out of Landscome’s office and I couldn’t even see straight. I just came here without even thinking about it.”

  “I’m glad you did.”

  “Really? Do you think you’ll want me if I’m not the dean of the college? Or maybe you won’t really want me at all. You don’t know that much about me.” So much for her resolve to stay in the moment. It didn’t seem to matter. Sally kept holding her hand and it felt good.

  “I want you despite the fact that you’re dean. Is he threatening to fire you?”

  “No, but I’m thinking of submitting my resignation. I just can’t do what he asks me to do.”

  Sally looked a little alarmed. “If you quit, would you have to move to some other college?”

  “No, that’s the beauty of tenure. I could just go back to teaching, which actually sounds wonder
ful.”

  “Then that’s what you should do.”

  Beth leaned over to kiss Sally. “I also wanted to see you to check.”

  “Check?”

  “Check whether you still liked me. Sometimes what seemed like a good idea late at night seems foolish in the light of day.”

  “Ah. That may have happened a few times when I was in my twenties and drinking like a Chicago cop in her twenties generally does.” Sally now leaned toward Beth to kiss her. “I can assure you that is not the case today.”

  Beth moved onto Sally’s lap, facing her and straddling her thighs again. She leaned toward the door and locked it, smiling at the nervous look on Sally’s face.

  “I don’t think you should sit like that,” Sally said. “Nothing good can come of it here.”

  Beth laughed. “Do you want to rephrase that? From my perspective, only good things can come of it, as you put it.”

  Sally sighed and stood, holding Beth up by the rear before setting her down on her own legs. “Have mercy on me, please. I have no defense against you. I want to swipe everything off my desk, lay you on top of it, and make you come.”

  They were standing very close, arms wrapped around each other, and Beth leaned in even closer and whispered, urgently, “Do it.”

  “You know I can’t. Fuck, I want to.”

  Beth wrapped her legs around Sally’s waist. “Do it.”

  The sound of boots clomping down the hallway outside the office caused Sally to move out of Beth’s embrace.

  “We’ll have to pick this up later. And aren’t you worried about the layoffs and Landscome and the murder and every other damn thing?”

  “Apparently not.” Beth stepped back and turned to pick up her bag. “But luckily you’re still able to act with some conscience.”

  Sally smiled ruefully and unlocked the door, then turned back.