“And how’s your semester? And the book?”
I said it was going well and explained what I was working on that week. I mentioned the editor and the press; Stephen said it sounded great. I asked about his plans for spring break. We had one more week of classes, and then Sawyer shut down completely. Admin made it mandatory that students leave, even staff got the week off. Stephen said he’d go visit his brother in Connecticut; I said I’d stay behind and work on the book. (Though I wouldn’t even go to campus, just the thought that everyone else would be gone felt like a comfort.) We discussed the movie theater closing down, the college’s fund-raising for the Health Sciences school. And then I started to wonder—is this it? When Stephen said he wanted to talk, did he mean justtalk? The conversation went on long enough that the sisters finished their cake and left. Finally, Stephen shifted in his chair and I could sense the turn coming as he made it.
“Listen, there is something I wanted to discuss with you.”
“Okay, sure,” I said, bracing myself—here it comes. “But first—I just—I really am sorry for everything. I know I was a complete fucking asshole—”
He cut me off. “It’s okay. It’s in the past. I wanted to talk about some stuff going around campus.”
“Oh. Okay. What kind of stuff?”
He paused, perhaps turning the words over, seeking the right way to begin. “There’s some rumors circulating. About you.”
“What about me?”
“I feel weird bringing this up. I’m not trying to accuse you of anything.”
“Come on, Stephen. What are people saying?”
“Stories about socializing with students. Spending time together off campus. Parties.”
There it was, laid out before me: an account of my own foolishness. My heart raced, fists clenched under the table. And this was just the start.
“That’s absurd.”
I don’t know if he expected me to say more, because he didn’t reply. I sat there, defiant in the silence. Finally, he spoke again.
“Mark, I don’t need to know what’s been going on. And, frankly, I don’t want to know.” He blinked, the slightest flicker. “But I thought you should be aware. You know this sort of thing can end a career. Especially for us.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“I just want you to be careful.”
“Well, I appreciate your concern, but there’s nothing going on. So there’s nothing I need to be careful about.”
Stephen opened his mouth as if to say something else, then changed his mind. “Alright. I’m glad to hear that.”
“Was that all?”
“Yes, I guess that’s it.”
“Okay. Great. I guess we’re done then.”
Stephen had parked in the direction of my apartment. We walked without speaking. It was taking all my energy to push down a rising tide of panic. Each step felt like a weight had been bound to my ankle. We arrived at his car and stood there, neither making a move. A raft of clouds passed across the sun, casting shadows gray then gone.
“I didn’t mean to snap at you.”
“It’s fine, Mark.”
“I appreciate you looking out for me. There’s nothing to worry about, you just caught me off guard. And it’s good to see you. I don’t want us to end on a bad note.” I could hear how stupid that sounded. “I guess, on another bad note.”
Stephen laughed, soft and gentle, like the good man he was.
“I’m glad to see you, too. At the risk of mucking things up, can I say something else?”
“Sure.”
“I don’t know what went on between you and Safie exactly, but I wish you would fix it. She could really use some support right now, with everything going on.”
