“Every department on campus has been asked to make cuts. We had to let someone go, and Audrey was the logical choice since she only had a one-year contract. It’s a real shame, though. I’m truly sorry to lose her.”
Michelle simmered with rage. Tenure was such bullshit. Yes, it was nice to have security, but it led to such unfairness. It led to brilliant young professors like Audrey being let go while half the faculty here coasted toward retirement without putting any real effort into their classes. “But she’s such an asset to the department! I’ve been blownaway by what I’ve seen from her, and her classes are so popular. The students love her.”
“I know,” Stuart said. “Believe me, I agree. But it had to be this way. She had the least seniority by far. My hands were tied.”
Michelle clenched her jaw, nodding stiffly. In theory, she understood why he’d done what he’d done, but oh, how she hated it, how she hatedeverythingto do with department politics.
“But here’s where the good news comes in,” he said.
Every muscle in Michelle’s body tensed. Whatever Stuart was about to say, she just knew she wasn’t going to like it.
“Audrey’s Women in Art class was more popular than I’d anticipated, so popular that I’d like to keep it on our roster next year. And since you’ve been asking to teach a similar class, I’d like you to take over starting in the fall. I want you to teach Women in Art.”
“No.” The word was out of her mouth before she’d even realized she was going to say it, before she’d had any conscious thought at all. It was an instinctive reaction, entirely unlike her, and yet she had no desire to take it back. “No, I won’t take Audrey’s class.”
Stuart sighed. “Don’t be stubborn. You’ve wanted that class for years. Now it’s yours.”
But she didn’t want it like this ... or any other way. On the contrary, it felt like something inside her had snapped. She was done. The realization swept over her with sudden, startling clarity. She stood from Stuart’s guest chair. “I don’t want that class or any other class. This semester will be my last. I quit, effective at the end of this academic year.”
She hadn’t seen this coming, but here she was. Her academic career was over, and she had no idea how she felt about it. She’d sort that out later.
Stuart’s eyes had gone wide behind his glasses. “I offer you the class you’ve wanted for years, and your reaction is to quit? I can’t even begin to make that make sense.”
“I don’t expect you to. I haven’t quite made sense of it yet myself, but this isn’t about the Women in Art class. I’ve known for a while that my time here was coming to a close. I just didn’t know when that time would come, and now I do.”
“Michelle, I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything. But you have to cut someone from the faculty, and I’ve just quit, no doubt at a much higher annual salary than whatever you were paying Audrey. If you have any sense, you’ll hire her back to replace me. You’ll be saving even more money, replacing a full tenured professor with an assistant professor. The Budget Committee should be pleased. Anyway, that’s for you to decide, but this semester will be my last. Have a nice evening, Stuart.”
And with that, she walked out of his office.
Audrey sat numbly at her desk. She was supposed to be having tea with Michelle right now, but Michelle wasn’t here. Her office was locked, and Audrey had no idea where she was. Audrey had gone through her day in a fog, and now, all she really wanted was to go home and have a good long cry. Or maybe yell and scream until she’d gotten it all out.
Keeping her emotions contained all day had left her feeling like a balloon about to burst. Honestly, it would have been kinder for Stuart to tell her at the end of the day, because teaching her Women in Art class right after learning that she’d lost it? That had been torture.
When Michelle had suggested at Stuart’s party that Audrey should keep her options open, she’d taken that advice. She’d been applying for promising tenure-track positions all year, just to hedge her bets in case this happened, but nothing had panned out. And now she was back at square one. No job and nothing in the pipeline. It was a helpless, demoralizing feeling.
In the hallway, she heard the distinctive click of Michelle’s heels. Not that Michelle’s heels were unusual, but she and Audrey were theonly women on this end of the hall, so heels meant Michelle. And Michelle meant Audrey could finally talk about this with someone. She was probably going to fall apart as soon as she saw her. Already, tears welled in her eyes.
Instead of going to her own office, Michelle walked straight into Audrey’s. She closed the door behind herself, and when she looked at Audrey, there was devastation in her eyes. God, she already knew. But how? Surely Stuart hadn’t sent out an announcement so soon.
“I’m so sorry.” Michelle crossed the room, and as Audrey rose, Michelle wrapped her in the warmth of her embrace.
“How . . . ?”
“I’ve just come from Stuart’s office.” Michelle pressed gentle kisses in Audrey’s hair. Her arms were so strong, so comforting. Silent tears rolled over Audrey’s cheeks.
“It sucks,” she whispered past the lump in her throat. “I wasn’t ready yet. I thought I had months before he’d decide, and now ...”
“I know, but let’s not talk about this here. The walls are too thin.” Michelle pulled back, using her thumbs to wipe the tears from Audrey’s cheeks. “Let’s go to your house.”
Audrey nodded. Her brain wasn’t really working anymore. She’d held it together until she finished teaching for the day, but now ... she stood helplessly as Michelle shut down Audrey’s laptop and packed it into her satchel. Michelle handed it to her, then gently rubbed beneath Audrey’s eyes, no doubt cleaning up runaway mascara.
“Come on, darling. We’ll talk about all of it in a minute, okay? But first, let’s go home.” She took charge in such a gentle way. Audrey wanted to fall into her arms and stay there forever. God, she loved this woman so much ...
She followed Michelle into the hall, then locked her office door behind them. Michelle led the way downstairs and outside, where the frigid winter air stung Audrey’s damp cheeks.
Michelle had guided her into the passenger seat of the BMW before Audrey realized what she was doing. “Wait. What about my car?”
