“I will. Enjoy your afternoon.”
Upstairs in her office, Michelle fixed herself a cup of tea—just one until Audrey arrived—but she liked having a cup in hand during her office hours. Almost as soon as she’d settled at her desk, the first student arrived. It was Nuala McGarry, the older student in Michelle’s introductory art history class.
Michelle liked Nuala a lot. She seemed to genuinely enjoy Michelle’s class, and her written work so far had been intelligent and well thought out. Today, Nuala had on jeans and a red sweater, with candy cane earrings.
“Hi, Nuala. How are you?”
“I’m good. Got a minute for me?”
“Of course.” Michelle gestured to the guest chairs in front of her desk. “What can I help you with?”
“I just had a quick question about our final essay. You said we could write about any of the artists you’d covered in class, but I’d like to write about Mary Cassatt, and you only mentioned her in passing during one of your lectures. We didn’t spend much time on her work, so I wanted to make sure that was okay.”
Michelle picked up her teacup, frustrated to realize she’d only mentioned Cassatt in passing. Had her class really become that male centered? “Of course, that’s okay. I’m a big fan of Cassatt’s work, so I look forward to seeing what you come up with. What drew you to her specifically?”
“There’s just something about her paintings. She painted a lot of women and children, you know?” Nuala paused, as if considering. “I really relate to those tender moments of motherhood. They remind me of when my daughter was little. I’d like to learn more about who she was as a person, so this essay seemed like the perfect opportunity.”
“I think you’ve made a great choice, then,” Michelle said. “Interestingly, Cassatt didn’t have children of her own.”
“Well, that’s ... that’s actually shocking to me.”
“It’s thought that she may have used her paintings to express her longing to be a mother or perhaps to show her admiration for mothers. It could be an interesting angle for your essay, what you make of Cassatt’s reasonings.”
“Yeah. You’ve got me even more curious about her now. I like women who don’t follow the norms, women who surprise you.” Nuala grinned at her.
“I’m drawn to those types of women myself,” Michelle agreed. “And I have to admit I’ve been curious how you ended up in my class. What are you studying?”
“Business management. I actually started my degree about thirty years ago, right here at NU, but I fell in love and got married young. Then I got pregnant the summer before my senior year, and I ended up dropping out. No regrets, because my daughter is everything to me, but I always wished I’d found a way to finish my degree.”
“Attending college with a young child must be very difficult,” Michelle said. “And back then, I don’t imagine there were many programs in place to help.”
“No, there probably weren’t, but to be honest, I didn’t even look. My husband wanted me to stay home with our daughter, so I did, and like I said, no regrets. We had a good life, but I lost him a few years ago. Then last year, I lost my mom. She didn’t leave much behind, but she had a little bit in savings, and before she died, she told me she wanted me to spend it on something I’d always wanted, something I didn’t think I’d be able to have. I spent a lot of time thinking about what that ‘something’ would be, and eventually, I decided it would be my college degree.”
“That’s beautiful.” Michelle was touched by Nuala’s story.
“I’ve been a secretary most of my life, and now I’m hoping to reenter the workforce as an office manager. I just figure, it’s never too late for a change, you know?”
“That’s a good attitude to have.” Michelle thought of the feelers she’d put out for academic jobs in the UK, of the book she was writing. Perhaps Nuala’s words were timely, a reminder that Michelle could start over too. “And I can’t wait to read your essay about Mary Cassatt. Something tells me it’s going to be very insightful.”
Nuala stood. “I hope so, Dr. Thompson. Anyway, I’ve taken up enough of your time, but thanks for listening and for the okay on my essay. I’ll see you in class on Thursday.”
“See you then.”
Michelle took another sip of her tea and glanced at the time on her phone. Only forty-five minutes until she got to see Audrey again.
Audrey and Michelle had tea together every afternoon that week, but they only managed to see each other outside work once. With the end of the semester approaching, they’d both been busy grading papers.
Yesterday, they had gone to Mercy’s exhibition together, but they’d taken separate cars, just in case. Audrey was so proud of her friend, although she’d only been able to afford one of Mercy’s smallest pieces. Surprisingly, Michelle had bought one, too, an abstract black-and-white painting that would complement her home decor nicely.
When Audrey stopped in the doorway of Michelle’s office on Friday afternoon to ask if she wanted to make plans for the weekend, her brain promptly short-circuited. Michelle had on the pale-blue tweed blazer that was Audrey’s absolute favorite, reading glasses perched on her nose as she typed on her laptop.
She was the Dr. Thompson of Audrey’s fantasies.
“Audrey?” Michelle looked up at her with the little smile that always made Audrey’s heart miss a beat.
Today, it did more than that. Today, Audrey’s heart tripped over itself as she realized her fantasy woman was actuallyhers. She sat in oneof Michelle’s guest chairs and leaned forward, speaking in a low voice meant only for Michelle. “You look exceptionally hot today.”
Michelle removed her glasses, giving Audrey a quizzical look. “I do?”
