“This is my lunch hour,” Jethro said, glaring at the dog. He liked to eat early and always set his lunchtime for elevenin the morning.
As she turned, he noticed she was wearing a drab gray suit with green heels. It was a little too big for her frame, which was a trick his mother had often used as well. Neither woman needed to look smaller than she was—both were petite. Too petite and too thin. The shirt underneath Ms. Fall’s jacket appeared to be a plain white shell.
No jewelry, though.
Maybe she hadn’t unpacked it yet.
She glanced at the dog. “Serena didn’t tell me what you teach. Just that you were here and I could call you ifI needed help.”
This was a woman who never needed help. Or if she did, she certainly wouldn’t ask for it from him. That much he already knew. “I teach philosophy, with an emphasis on ethics, mortal theory, rational choice, game, and decision theories.”
She blinked. Just one lift of those too-long eyelashes that were too dark for her coloring. They were probably fake. “Trying to figure out the meaning of life?”
“No,” he said, tightening his hold on Roscoe as a group of happily chattering sophomores wandered by. “I’m trying to figure out why there is evil and what we can do about it, if anything.”
Her surprisingly full lips twitched and she seemed to stare through him. Beyond him. “You believe in evil? That it’s a force of its own?”
“Yes,” he said, wondering what she’d look like with that hair all mussed and her skin flushed. “I believe evil is inside all of us, and I think it grows. Or can grow.” He hadn’t figured out how to end it, or even how to live with it. Not yet. “I take it youdon’t believe?”
Her gaze landed squarely on his. “I believe. Evil exists and it never stops coming, does it? No matter what we do.” She seemed to shake herself and then tucked her file folders more securely beneath her arm. “Have a nice day, Dr. Hanson.” She turned on a green heel, wobbled just slightly, and then continued down the hallway.
He watched her go, trying rather hard not to notice that her butt was cupped perfectly by the gray skirt. So only the top was too big.
Roscoe whined.
Jethro looked down at him. “Not for you, pal. She’d freeze your ears off.” Hell. The woman was so cold and vain, she could barely walk in those shoes. They were probably three sizes toosmall for her.
He remembered his mother using a thick wedge to get her feet into shoes that pinched. He also remembered how fast she was with a backhand to the face. “Let’s go, Roscoe. I need time with innocencenow for sure.”
* * * *
“There you are,” Sofia Gomez said, throwing a stuffed cotton block at his head.
“Sorry I’m late. It’s the dog’s fault.” Jethro caught the block and tossed it over his shoulder toward the reading corner, which was beyond the secured gate that kept the little people from wandering out. He leaned down and opened the gate, letting Roscoe inside the cheerful area with colorful mats on the floor and instructional signs on the walls, including a new one with bright A, B, and Cs. A wide window at the far end showed a swing set covered in snow outside.
Sofia sighed, the many lines in her cheerful face softening when she looked at Roscoe. For the first day of the semester, the head of the day care had worn a hand-knitted green sweater and dark jeans, along with what looked like new snow boots. “He is a cutie.”
“So are you,” Jethro said, inhaling the scent of cookies. “Why don’t you just give inand marry me?”
“Oh, you,” she said, waving her hand in the air, her arthritic fingers looking swollen. “Forgetting the fact that you’re thirty years too young for me, I’d hate to ruin all other women for you. Before I forget, swing by after work for the popcorn you ordered before the holidays. We made enough in that fundraiser to keep the women’s shelter running for half a year.” She turned and bustled her ample form past the hooks by the doorway to her office, her gray hair up in a tight bun. “I’ll just need ten minutes to eat my salad. Try not to getinto trouble.”
A rustle of sound had Jethro turning just in time for a miniature attacking midfielder to smash into his legs, coming from the hallway to the east.
“Jet!” the boy said, wrapping both hands around Jethro’s legs. “You’re back! I’m back, too. We’re back!”
Jethro lifted the kid by the hips, spinning him over. His dad taught in the English department. “It’s good to see you, Pete. How was your Christmas?” He set the boy down on his feet so he could pet Roscoe.
“Awesome,” the four year old said, rubbing Roscoe’s ear. “I gots a train from Santa. A real one that lights up.” He looked up, showing a gap in his front teeth that hadn’t been there before. “And I gots five dollars from the tooth fairy.” He held out his small hand fora knuckle bump.
Jethro bumped knuckles and let the moment expand inside him, hopefully banishing some of the darkness that would never let go. “Where is everyone?” The day care, which was just for university staff and faculty, usually had twenty kids a day.
“Snack time,” Pete said simply. “I ate fast.”
“Pete. I told you not to leave the main group.” A fortysomething woman with glitter in her hair and paint on her jeans bustled down the hall, stopping when she caught sight of Jethro. “Oh, good. Hi, Jet. Glad you’re back for another semester.” Barb grinned at Roscoe. “You’re on dog duty again.”
“Yeah,” he said, eyeing a new urchin tripping along behind her with a green blanket clutched in her small hands. “Angus and Nari are visiting her family and they flew, so I’m dog sitting.” Part of him figured Nari had left Roscoe on purpose because she thought he was lonely, but he couldn’t prove it. “Who’s yourlittle friend?”
Barb turned and drew the cutie forward. “This is Trudy. She’s new.”
