He holds up his hands. “I had good intentions, Leleila. You were so worried about getting your PhD before your wedding, and I thought you needed more time. I asked Phillip if he could talk to you because I was concerned you were pressing to get everything done due to Phillip’s timetable rather than your own. He assured me he’d make sure you put in the data you needed for the whole panel’s approval. He knew what was needed. But then you presented, and that data wasn’t there after all. I couldn’t understand what had happened. But now I know—Phillip thought he could persuade the panel to pass you based on his reputation, his merit.” He shakes his head. “I’m sure he meant well, but he let his arrogance get the best of him here. Because the panel half-heartedly agreed with his idea, and then they changed their minds once they heard you present. Panels are not known for their loyalty; you know that as well as I do.”
My face goes hot. “Phillip was going to help me with my data. But then he said he didn’t have time because of his own work. I guess talking to the panel was his idea of a quick fix.”
Gerry frowns. “He assured me that he’d take a look at your research. I told him if you stuck with your current data, the panel would most likely fail you. He’s experienced enough with a thesis panel to know exactly what I meant. I just never expected he’d go behind my back like that. I’m sorry, Leleila. I just thought you should know.”
My heart feels like it’s been stomped on. I stand up, leaving my breakfast untouched. “I appreciate you coming to me,” I say. “Please excuse me. I have to go do something.”
* * *
Phillip’s bent over a microscope in the ecology lab when I barge in without warning. He jerks his head up.
“Leleila. You scared me. What are you doing here?”
I take a seat next to him, ignoring the two other people looking at slides. They take one look at us and immediately get up and walk out, leaving us alone.
“I just had an interesting conversation with Gerry,” I say. “He told me everything, Phillip. How you struck a deal with the panel? How could you do that?”
Phillip turns red. “That’s true. But I don’t know what the big deal is. That committee should have passed you. You were ready. I saw to it myself. They broke our deal. That’s on them.”
“That committee is what matters!” I say to him. “They didn’t think I was ready, and you pushed me. You said I would definitely pass. And you didn’t tell me to alter my dissertation, which you promised Gerry you would do.”
“You would have passed no problem if the panel hadn’t been so idiotic,” he says angrily. “You’d have your PhD right now, and we’d both be professors in time for our wedding. We’d be packing our bags for Africa in a month. Hopefully, we’ll be able to anyway, but I didn’t know there would be another way at the time. So yes, I pushed you to present when you did. But it was all for us, Lei.”
“See, that’s the thing,” I say. “It feels to me like you did it for you. You wanted that grant, and the only way for us to get it was if we both had our doctorates. I was happy to do something together, and of course, I wanted a job at the university. But I didn’t want to force the issue if the timing was off.”
“No,” Phillip protests. “I truly thought you were ready, Lei. You had been preparing for years for your PhD. How was waiting six months going to help?”
“You should have told me Gerry came to you,” I say. “I know I was being stubborn, but you should have told me what he said to you.”
* * *
After our talk, which doesn’t really end with any resolution, Phillip heads to the airport alone, and I drive to Big Sky Grocer.
I go straight to June’s office.
“So ignoring the questionable lapse in ethics between Phillip and the panel, do you think Phillip should have told me what he did?”
“Well, of course I do,” she says.
“So why do you think he didn’t?” I say.
She purses her lips.
“Because he was trying to protect me?” I suggest. “Or maybe because he really believed in me that much? Or in my data?”
“Is that what you really believe?” she asks me. “That his heart was in the right place?”
I don’t answer her.
“Because if you felt that way, I don’t know why you’d be locked in a room with your sister trying not to cry,” she says as she looks at my face.
“I’m not crying,” I say. “I’m too numb to cry.”
June reaches out and touches my arm. “I have some good news. People love your mural. I mean, they love it.”
I wrinkle my nose, sure she’s messing with me.
“I’m not joking!” she says. “I’ve gotten more compliments on that damn mural than on any products I’m carrying. I had somebody come inside this afternoon to ask about it, saying they saw it from outside. As soon as I told them the artist’s name, they asked if you had anything here for sale.”
