She didn’t crack a smile. “The deadline for mature students is February first. You still have time.”
Longing leaped like flame, using up all the air in his lungs. He shook his head, unable to find breath to answer.
Her dark lips twisted slightly. “You used to be more articulate.”
“I used to be a lot of things,” he said, desperate to get her out of his shop before he... What would he do? She was a customer. “Look, I have to...” He cast about the nearly empty shop. “Do inventory,” he said. “Did you want something?”
She gave him a look like Janette’s, only meaner. AnI see what you’re doing and don’t think you can get away with itlook. “Are you still writing?”
Like she could see the thought of those notebooks branded on his forehead. “What would be the point of that?” he asked.
They stared at each other across the counter.Standoff.
“I’ll take a package of the chocolate digestives,” she said. Not a retreat, but a concession.
He rang her up and made change, focusing on each small action as if it could ground him permanently in this shop. In his reality. “Will that be all?”
Of course it wasn’t.
The woman was a witch.
“Writers graduate all the time who don’t have half your talent.” Maeve put the biscuits in her purse. “You know what they have that you don’t have?”
“A piece of paper?” Sam suggested.
She snapped her purse shut. “Don’t be facetious.”
“Brains.”
“Commitment,” she said. “You’ll never get anywhere without commitment. I can write you a recommendation. But whether you’re willing to take the help, take the chance... That’s up to you, isn’t it?”
His heart burned.
The bell over the door chimed and Dee walked in. Thank Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Sam turned to her in relief.
“Dr.Ward!” She sounded as taken aback as he felt.
“And here’s another one,” Maeve said in apparent disgust, and stomped off, trailing black clouds of smoke.
Sam watched her go, his soul on fire.
Twenty
What was that about, then?” Sam asked.
I watched Maeve progress down the sidewalk, clearing the way with her umbrella. “I think she’s pissed at me.”
“Dr.Ward?”
I looked back at Sam. “You took a class with her, you said.”
“Donkey’s years ago.”
“She still remembers you.”
He winked. “So many women do.” He reached for a mug. “Why is she pissed at you?”
“She offered to work with me. To supervise my thesis.”
