She played that off like it wasn’t an accomplishment, but I was impressed. “How long have you been editing?”
She blew out a breath with a shaky laugh. “Too long. Kate—my boss—likes to take undergrads under her wing. She cornered me my second year here, so that was”—I counted backward—“Jesus, a decade ago?”
Strolling in front of the Rotunda, I pictured a younger me, backpack slung over one shoulder, making my way to the science buildings. “I sort of miss being a student.” It was a weird thing to realize. “At the time, I was so focused on knocking out my requirements and keeping my grades up, but in retrospect, it was nice to know what was expected of us.”
“Funny you say that. I’ve been thinking about going back to school at some point.”
“Yeah? To do what?”
“Get my MFA and focus on writing my novel.”
“You’re writing a novel?”
She waved her hand. “We’re not talking about that.”
“Okay.” I shoved my hands in my pockets, tabling the discussion, but my curiosity was piqued.
At last, we reached Bryan Hall and pushed through a throng of students. I thought I could still pass as an undergrad, but these kids were babies. Had we looked that young once?
Outside an office, Elizabeth rapped at the door frame, then walked right in.
A Black woman with a shock of close-cut white hair lifted her head, then stood with a huge grin. She wore a cardigan that hung to her knees. Her glasses dangled against her chest, attached to a beaded necklace. She reminded me of Mrs. Chance, one of our Sunday school teachers when I was a kid. For a beat, I wondered if Elizabeth would remember her, then caught myself. What the fuck? That was Lizzy Grant, not Elizabeth.
“Hey, Kate. Got a second?”
Kate’s eyebrows rose. “Sure.”
When Kate’s eyes landed on me, Elizabeth performed the introductions. “Evan Spurlock, meet Kate Hudson, a powerhouse in intersectional queer Black feminist literary criticism, and my boss.”
“Not related,” Kate said, reaching out her hand to shake. “Not even a little.”
I laughed, working back to her full name to get the joke. Kate was, at my guess, possibly sixty. She had the kind of gravitas about her that scared the crap out of young students. “Nice to meet you,” I said, not daring to be clever in the literal English department.
She tilted her head. “You look familiar. Have we met?”
“I don’t think I ever had a class with you.”
Elizabeth cut in. “Did you watch the news last night?” At Kate’s head shake, Elizabeth added, “You might have seen him on that billboard over on High Street.”
Kate’s eyes goggled, and I waved off the overstated importance of an ad for a news team. “I’m a meteorologist,” I said. “It’s not a big deal.”
“Well.” Kate sat back down. “What are you doing trailing behind Elizabeth today?”
Elizabeth answered for me, saving me the awkwardness of trying to explain whatever this relationship was. “Evan went to school here, and he wanted to check out the library renovations.”
“You’re in for a surprise.” Kate turned to Elizabeth, dismissing me just like that. “Thank you for your quick work on the Diderot. I know you’re busy with your new job, but would you have time to work on thisTristram Shandycollection?”
Elizabeth didn’t hesitate. “Yes. I’m heading to the library anyway. Send it my way.”
I noticed she didn’t contradict Kate about being tied up with the new job, probably thinking it would give her more leverage to negotiate, but I wondered if she appeared to be spread too thin to take on a bigger role.
“You’re a lifesaver.” Kate’s shoulders dropped like a weight had lifted. She glanced at me. “I could use fifty more editors like Elizabeth. She’s unbelievably thorough. I never have to waste my time checking over her work.”
Elizabeth, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and inhaled deep—something I’d noticed she did to draw courage before speaking up for herself. “I’d be available for more work if I could count on the hours.”
“I know.” Kate toyed with a pen. “And I’d give you all the assignments if efficiency was my sole criteria. But I consider this copy editor role more like an apprenticeship, meant to train students so they can leave here with some practical skills.”
“I’m no longer a student, though.” Elizabeth’s voice came out thin, lacking the force and confidence she’d had only moments before.
