Judy showed him around her lab, painfully aware of how it must compare to his, but Rick nodded agreeably and demonstrated unusual restraint in his jokes about the age of her computers. Her graduate students were awed to meet the man who had authored so many of the papers Judy distributed as required reading and, to Judy’s delight, Rick seemed impressed with their work and how well they discussed it. Suddenly it occurred to Judy that at that moment she could be in the middle of a job interview.
Before he could mention the position in front of her students, Judy got their coats and suggested they go to lunch. They walked a few blocks south of campus to a popular coffee shop with surprisingly good food, where Judy teased, “This is what you get when you invite yourself to lunch at the last minute.”
“Next time I’ll offer to treat,” said Rick, as he eyed the café with mock distaste. Judy happened to know he had virtually camped out in his favorite coffee shop back in grad school, and she doubted he had changed much. Inside, he ordered the largest sandwich on the menu plus a luscious pastry Judy had often been tempted to try but had managed to resist. She settled on the tabbouleh and hummus platter and black coffee.
They grabbed a table in the corner and caught up on the news of their families while they ate. Rick pretended not to remember Steve’s name and referred to him as the guy every heterosexual male in the department had hated from the moment he and Judy went on their first date. Judy teased him by pretending to have lost count of his divorces, then was astounded to hear he actually had one more than she recalled, and that he was planning to marry again in October. “Maybe you should quit while you’re ahead,” she told him, to which he replied that he couldn’t stop now, so close to the record.
After he returned to the counter for a second cup of coffee, he took a sip and remarked, “They love you.”
“Who?”
“The search committee.”
“How much do they love me?”
“You’re in the top five.”
Her heart thumped, but she forced a nonchalant grin and said, “That’s it? Not even the top three?”
He shrugged. “Sorry. I did what I could.”
“I don’t doubt it.” She sat back, taking this in. “What exactly do I owe you?”
“Not a cent. Just accept the job if they offer it, come to Penn, and do brilliant work for the rest of your career.”
She folded her arms and regarded him. “Do you help all your old grad school friends like this?”
“No, just those friends who are underserving themselves and the academic community by spending their careers in a backwater when they ought to be at the forefront of their fields.”
Judy had to laugh. “You sounded exactly like Dr. Saari when you said that.”
“Did I?” For a moment Rick looked guilty. “Would you be offended if I confessed this was his idea? You always were his favorite student. Don’t get me wrong. I wholeheartedly agreed with his recommendation; I just can’t take credit for it.”
“So you’re promoting my application as a favor to Dr. Saari.”
“I’m promoting your application because you’re the best candidate. However, he did remind me that he could have let the graduate school kick me out on a technicality a year before I would have graduated.”
“I’ll have to thank him, then, not you.” She sipped her coffee and found that it had cooled. “Waterford College is not a backwater.”
“Not if you’re in the liberal arts. Judy, your doctorate is in Computer Engineering. Your undergrad degree is in Electrical Engineering. You can’t tell me you’re satisfied teaching computer programming. It’s not your fault you got knocked up and had to take the first job that came along, but you don’t have to suffer for the rest of your life.”
“That’s not exactly what happened.”
“Close enough. If your hubby had had a real job you would have been able to afford another year of grad school while waiting for the job offers to roll in.”
“I might have been waiting a very long time. The economy wasn’t especially kind to new Ph.D.s that year.”
“Which is why you should have waited it out, and would have, if not for Emily, and if not for the instability of Steve’s freelance writing income.”
Judy reluctantly had to agree, but she refused to admit that to Rick. She looked away, pretending to check the line at the front counter. She was wondering aloud how long she would have to wait for a refill when she spotted Sarah stirring cream and sugar into a carry-out cup. Judy was so startled she could not return Sarah’s wave, and she sat riveted in place as Sarah crossed the room to join them.
“Judy, hi,” said Sarah, smiling and indicating the two cups in her hands. “I thought I’d get my caffeine fix while Sylvia’s getting her hair done.”
“You must have had a late night,” Judy said, and silently scolded herself for being so nervous. Sarah could not possibly know what she and Rick were discussing.
“Oh, no, this one’s a peace offering for Sylvia. I’m late.”
“Sorry you can’t join us,” said Rick, grinning at Sarah.
“Oh. Rick, this is my friend Sarah McClure. Sarah, this is Rick Balrud, an old friend from grad school. He’s visiting from the University of Pennsylvania.”
Sarah set down one of the cups and shook his hand “Hi. Welcome to Waterford. I’m impressed you were able to find it without a Sherpa or a global positioning system.”
“Who says I didn’t have both?” Rick’s grin deepened and he held her hand longer than necessary.
Sarah glanced at her watch and picked up her cup again. “I’m late. Got to go. Nice to meet you.”
“You, too.” Rick watched as Sarah hurried away, then turned back to Judy. “She’s cute. Married?”
“Yes, happily,” said Judy sharply. “This is why you go through so many wives. You always think your true soul mate is right around the next corner.”
His eyebrows rose. “Who said anything about my soul mate? I’m not that deep. I’m content with a nice pair of—”
“Don’t say it.” Judy waved him to silence. “Not about my friend.”
Rick feigned innocence. “Eyes. I was going to say eyes.”
“You’re awful. You always have been.”
“I know.” He sipped his coffee. “Fortunately, I’m also a genius.”
On the walk back to Judy’s office, Rick told her she would soon receive a letter asking her to be available to travel during the week of March 24. If she were one of the top three candidates, she would be invited for an interview with the selection committee, comprised of the department chair, several professors, two graduate students, and one undergrad. They would provide the usual campus tour, job placement conference for the spouse, and meals with selected members of the department, which, Judy knew, was where most of the committee members would make up their minds rather than at the formal interview. She would also need to present a graduate-level seminar and guest lecture in an undergraduate class, the topics of which she should send by return mail so that they could match her with suitable courses.
Judy thanked him for the advance warning. She was familiar with the standard interview hoops candidates were obligated to jump through, having served on several search committees herself, but the last job she had applied for was the one she currently held.
Steve was thrilled by the news, although Judy tried to temper his enthusiasm by reminding him she had not made it to the top three yet. “You’ll make it,” said Steve, kissing her. “Why is it that everyone else is so much more aware of your abilities than you are?”
“You’re blinded by love.”
“On the contrary, love has opened my eyes.”
Judy rolled her own eyes at that, but she was moved and decided to give him an early Valentine’s Day treat that night after Emily went to sleep.
Two days later, on the real Valentine’s Day, Steve surprised her by showing up at the lab in the middle of the afternoon and inviting her on a walk. Snow had fallen that mornin
g and the wind still blew cold, but Steve looked so earnest that Judy quickly bundled up in her coat and scarf and followed him outside.
They walked arm in arm until the cold compelled them to stuff their hands into their pockets. “I want you to know that I fully support you and your career,” Steve began. “Whatever you’ve wanted to do, I’ve always backed you up. I’ve always adjusted.”
“I know you have.” He didn’t need to remind her of that. He had moved to Waterford without knowing if freelancing for the local paper would ever develop into something more permanent. When Emily was younger, he had stayed home to care for her, putting off his writing for weekends and evenings when Judy was home. It made sense, he said whenever Judy told him how much she appreciated him. Judy’s work paid more and provided benefits. If their roles were reversed, no one would remark about what a devoted parent Judy was if she stayed home. Judy couldn’t dispute that, but she was still convinced that only three men in a hundred would have sacrificed their own careers for their wives’ so willingly.
She took a deep breath through her scarf. “Are you telling me you don’t want to adjust anymore? I’m overdue to sacrifice for you. I’ll turn down the Penn job if you want.”
“No. No. That’s the last thing I want.” He paused. “I sent a letter and a packet of clips to a guy I know on the Inquirer editorial board. The editor of the news division wants me to come in for an interview.”
“That’s great!”
“Thanks. It wouldn’t be for some cub reporter position, either. They liked my investigative pieces on the college embezzlement scandal so much that they’re considering me for a senior position, not just comparable to what I have now but a significant step up.”
“Oh, Steve.” She was so proud she flung her arms around him. “I always said you were too good for the local rag.”
“They haven’t offered me the new job yet, and if they do, it won’t mean anything if you don’t get the job at Penn. As much as I want to make the jump, I can’t justify doing so if it means a commuter marriage.”
“It wouldn’t necessarily—”
“Judy, you can’t quit your job for me.” He said this with such resolve that she knew he had seriously considered it. “The cost of living is higher out there, and my increase in salary won’t compensate for the loss of your income.”
Not to mention Judy’s work would screech to a halt if she lacked a research facility. She could hardly build one in the basement. “So where does that leave us?”
“I’ve thought about it, and—”
At that moment, a plump woman carrying a tote bag appeared from behind a cluster of snowy pines and veered away just in time to avoid crashing into them. As she murmured an apology and hurried on, Judy recognized her fellow Elm Creek Quilter. “Bonnie?” she called out, fumbling with gloved hands to lower her scarf.
Bonnie spun around. “Oh, hi. Hi, Steve.”
“Hi,” said Steve. “Where are you going in such a hurry?”
“Oh, well—” Bonnie glanced over her shoulder as if searching for an escape. “I’m going to see if I can catch Craig before he leaves work. You didn’t happen to see him pass this way?”
They hadn’t, but Steve asked if Bonnie wanted them to pass along a message in case they saw him before she did. Bonnie demurred through a shaky smile and told them she had to hurry off.
“See you tonight at the business meeting,” Judy called after her, wondering at her haste. “Do you think she overheard?”
“Not a chance.”
“But she looked so startled, like she had caught us plotting a political coup.”
Steve laughed and put his arm around her as they walked on. “She’s probably on her way to a romantic Valentine’s Day rendezvous with Craig, and she’s embarrassed that we caught her.”
Judy knew enough about Craig to doubt it, but she wanted to believe Steve was right. “So,” she said, remembering the question he had not yet answered. “What have you been trying to tell me?”
He stopped and took her gloved hands in his. “I want you to try very hard to get that job at Penn. And when they offer it to you, I very much want you to accept.”
Early the next week, a letter from the Department of Computer Sciences arrived and warmly informed her that she was one of five candidates for the position of associate professor. Thanks to Rick’s warning, Judy was able to assemble the information they requested well in advance of their deadline. As she sent it off via certified mail, she hoped they awarded points for promptness.
A week passed. Judy knew the supplemental information had arrived, but all Rick would say in his email was that the top three candidates would receive information about their campus visits by mid-March. He told her to be optimistic and reminded her to keep the week of March 24 open. The date sounded familiar, and one glance at the calendar confirmed it: The twenty-fourth was the first Monday of spring break, which would have been ideal for any professor not involved with Elm Creek Quilts. Torn, Judy eventually decided against asking Sarah to cancel her classes for the opening session of quilt camp. Her computer design classes had been filled for weeks, and she couldn’t ask any of her friends to take over her Bindings and Borders workshop when she had not yet had the chance to work the bugs out of her new lesson plans. Besides, she couldn’t cancel without offering an explanation.
Just in case, she revised her lesson plans carefully, making them so detailed that almost any of her friends could pick them up and run the class from scratch. After that, and in between her usual obligations, she worked on her guest lecture and grad student seminar, just in case. She grew accustomed to lifting a fork to her mouth with one hand and typing furiously on her laptop with her other, since her lunch break was the only time she could work unobserved. She felt a twinge of guilt thinking of how long ago she had last arranged to meet Gwen for lunch, but she promised herself she would make up for it after she returned from Penn. If they invited her.
On the first Friday of March, Judy spent an extended lunch break at the Daily Grind revising the last section of her lecture notes for the undergraduate course and wondering how much longer she would be able to endure the twin burdens of waiting for news from Penn and keeping her application a secret from her friends, especially when Steve was bursting to tell his colleagues about his triumphant interview earlier that week. Judy was thrilled for him and glowed when she recalled how the editors had praised his work, but she cautioned him to keep it to himself. If one did not count the transient population of college students, Waterford was like any small town, with at most three degrees of separation between any two residents. It was not easy to keep secrets when everyone knew someone who knew everyone else.
A shadow fell across the keyboard. “Hey, Judy.”
Judy jerked her head up, startled by Summer’s sudden greeting. “Oh, hi. How are you?”
“Don’t worry, I’m not here to interrupt. I just wanted to say hi.”
“Don’t be silly. It’s too hard to find a free table this time of day. Sit down.” Judy quickly saved her document and shut down the computer before moving it out of the way. “Are you working at Grandma’s Attic today?”
“Yes, I’m working.” A slight frown touched Summer’s lips, but it quickly vanished. “Diane came in, too. You should come by sometime and see all the new blocks for Sylvia’s quilt.”
“I’d love to. I need to buy fabric for my block, too.” Judy did not mention that she had stopped by the quilt shop on her way to work on that very errand and found the lights off and the door locked. Bonnie would not be happy to learn that her employees had not opened the store on time, but she wouldn’t hear about it from Judy.
As Summer ate, they talked about the upcoming camp season and about their progress on Sylvia’s bridal quilt, which Judy was embarrassed to admit had completely slipped her mind until the previous evening, when she had come across the invitation letter while cleaning her sewing table.
“If you run out of time you could always buy one of those
bargain kits at the Fabric Warehouse,” said Summer with a teasing smile.
Judy’s heart thumped. They knew. That awful Mary Beth had told on her, just as she had insinuated.
Summer laughed. “I’m just kidding. You have plenty of time. I haven’t started my block, either.”
Relieved, Judy fought to compose herself and managed a feeble joke about Summer’s poor opinion of her. Summer left soon after that, so Judy got back to work before her guilty conscience gave away something more important than anxiety over a quilt block deadline.
As she glanced up to be sure Summer had gone, Judy’s gaze fell on two young men waiting in line. When the taller, golden-haired one turned her way, she recognized Diane’s youngest son, Todd, but she did not know his friend. They were laughing and joking and jostling each other, heady with the freedom of their off-campus senior lunch privileges. Todd paid for a cup of coffee and two frosted crullers, which he left on the counter while his friend placed his order. Just then, Todd bent over to tie his shoe, and in the moment while the server’s back was turned, Todd’s friend removed the lid from Todd’s cup, poured half the contents into the tip jar, and replaced the lid. By the time Todd rose and the counter clerk placed the friend’s drink on the counter, the friend was scanning the bakery case, hands in his coat pockets.
Surprised, Judy watched while the friend paid the cashier and Todd picked up his plate and coffee, tested the weight of the cup, frowned, and removed the lid. Judy could not hear his exchange with the clerk, but it was evident Todd complained and asked for his cup to be filled to the top. The server checked it, frowned in puzzlement, and was about to oblige when the woman next in line spoke up and gestured to the tip jar. The server looked from the tip jar to Todd, his expression stormy, and his voice rose enough for Judy to make out a demand that the two boys clean up the mess. Todd’s friend burst out laughing, grabbed his lunch, and made a quick dash for the door. Todd, obviously baffled, hurried after him.
Elm Creek Quilts [06] The Master Quilter Page 19
