Mom rolled her eyes. “I have a feeling Daddy and I will have to rely on your brother to find a wife and get to work on the next generation. He tells us that he wants to buy property and run a farm, if you can believe it. When he was home this summer, he announced that he plans to have at least six kids.”
I giggled. “Good luck, Todd, finding a girl to agree to that many pregnancies and births. I can’t even imagine.”
“You two have always been so different, like night and day,” Mom mused. “You, my darling, are our ambitious go-getter, never wanting to stay still, never satisfied to sit and wait for anyone. Todd is quieter, more thoughtful, but just as determined. I love you both just as you are, and I have no doubt that both of you will find exactly what you want for your futures.”
“I hope you’re right.” I gazed out over the river once more, noting how the late afternoon sunlight danced on the water. “For now, all I need is a school to admit me to their doctorate program and give me some kind of job so I can support myself. After that—” I grinned. “Then comes the world.”
* * *
“Hey, stranger, you kind of look like my father.” I squinted at the man sitting at the head of the dining room table as I set down a basket of rolls. “But you can’t be him, because that guy vanishes every August and doesn’t reappear until Christmas time.”
“Watch it, smart ass.” My dad’s lip curled up on one side. “I know you like to make fun of what I do, but I’ll remind you that it provided you with three years at college, plus one more in Europe.”
“Hey, I won a scholarship for my year in Amsterdam,” I countered, dragging out a chair and sitting down at the table.
“Sure, and that covered your tuition,” Dad agreed. “But not your living expenses and your travel.”
I offered him my most winsome smile and batted my eyes. “And I’m so grateful, Daddy, for all the football teams you coached that paid you well enough to underwrite my wild, debauched year in the Netherlands. You know, all those late nights buried at the library, acting like a crazy, irresponsible archeology student reading ancient texts.”
“I know you didn’t take that opportunity for granted, Willow. If I’d thought you wanted to finish college in Amsterdam just to have a good time and party, I wouldn’t have agreed to help you.” My father rested his elbows on the edge of the table. He wore a gray Army T-shirt with his name and the school crest on the breast pocket. As I regarded him, I noticed that there was more gray hair at his temples than there’d been before I’d left for Europe.
“And I really do appreciate that you and Mom were okay with me going,” I answered, dropping my teasing tone. “It was an incredible opportunity.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” He leaned back in his chair, his eyes steady on me. “Now you’re thinking about going back for more schooling?”
There was the subtlest tone of judgement in his voice, and I reacted defensively.
“It’s not like I really have a choice,” I shot back. “In this field of study, you’re nothing without a postgraduate degree.”
“Which is why you went to Amsterdam to earn both your bachelor’s and your master’s,” he pointed out. “Don’t you want to work a little bit before you invest more time and money in getting your doctorate? Make sure this is what you really want to do for the rest of your life?”
I rolled my eyes. “The only job I could get at this point would be assisting someone who has a doctorate—doing boring, monotonous scut work.”
Dad raised one eyebrow. “Isn’t that essentially what you’d be doing if you got a job at a college?”
“At least if I’m a TA doing the same thing, I’ll still be moving forward. I can be working toward something bigger and better.” I paused for a beat. “And once I have my doctorate, I can focus on that real job you’re so anxious for me to get.”
“I only want you to be happy and settled,” my father countered. “I don’t care what that looks like.”
“For the next few years, it’s going to look like me being buried in another college library,” I replied. “Only this time, I’ll be close enough to you and Mom that you can come dig me out on occasion. You know, you two can take me to dinner and make me sit in the sun for a few hours every other month or so.”
“Daddy just wants you to be sure before you commit your time and energy—not to mention a considerable amount of money—to another degree.” My mother appeared from the kitchen, carrying a bubbling casserole. “Both of us want that, honey. We don’t want you to rush into anything when you have options. You could take a year and get a job around here, stay with us . . . it would be easy enough to be certified as a substitute teacher. One of the wives on the coaching staff does that, and she could work every day of the school year if she wanted. Makes a decent amount of money, too.”
“That’s great.” I reached for the serving spoon, working hard to keep my voice level. “For her, I mean. But I don’t want to waste a year twiddling my thumbs. As soon as I hear from a school that definitely has a spot for me, I’m gone.”
As if on cue, my watch buzzed, and ignoring my parents’ disapproving glances—neither of them liked technology at the dinner table—I hit a button to read the incoming message.
“It’s serendipity!” I grinned. “I just got an email from St. Barnabas College, and the assistant chair of the archeology department wants me to schedule an interview with her. She says she just lost a teaching assistant and doctoral candidate, and they’re very interested in me.”
After a long moment of silence, my father spoke. “That’s great news, honey.” If he wasn’t completely enthusiastic, I couldn’t tell. “I hope it works out.”
My mother wasn’t quite as good at hiding how she felt. “I was really hoping you’d be able to stay here a little longer.”
“It’s okay. Boston isn’t far,” I assured her. Pushing back my chair, I rose to my feet. “Will you excuse me just a minute? She asked me to call when I read the email so we can set up the interview as soon as possible.”
“Of course. Go.” Mom waved her hand, but I didn’t miss the disappointment on her face as I slipped away to retrieve my phone from my bedroom and then went through the kitchen to the side garden.
I couldn’t argue with my mother when she raved about the house they’d been assigned here on post. At most of the other colleges where my dad had been a coach, we’d had to rent something in the college town nearby, and the pickings hadn’t always been wonderful. But the Army ran things differently, and part of the compensation package that came with being head coach for Army football was a beautiful home with five bedrooms, a large kitchen, and lots of entertaining space, as my mom called it.
