Page 49 of The New Place

“Of course he doesn’t.” Pat says it so simply that Abbot takes his eyes from the road to look at him. Pat shrugs. “Like I told you, he’s going to need ages to come around.”

“I’m not sure we have that much time.” Which is why he should have reached out to Beverly already. Done so yesterday, as the news of Adams washed across academia. She’ll be fielding interest from other professors, everyone desperate to land somewhere next fall.

Do you want to talk? she’d asked him as he tried to ignore her on the walk back from the hospital, chin tucked into his coat, hands stuffed in his pockets.

He blinks and sprays his windshield again, though there’s hardly any salt to wipe away.

“You gotta push him,” Pat says. “He hates relying on other people, because he has dumb, noble ideas about doing everything himself.”

“But it’s me,” Abbot says.

“Yeah, but it’s Ned. Though that’s the great thing about having you around. I know you’ll always take care of him.”

Abbot stares at the tail lights in front of them. Yes, he will. He wants to, at least. He just wishes there was another avenue than calling Beverly, of all people.

But what can he do? Help Ned with his job talk materials? Ned just put them together last year, so he hardly needs to update much. Abbot can ask the few contacts he has if they’re hiring, but the whole of Boston will be absorbing Adams’ faculty who don’t want to move. Besides, it’s not as if Abbot has a long list of people to reach out to. Ned is the one who makes connections at conferences, ends each one with new numbers in his phone and emails exchanged, when Abbot would rather retreat to his hotel room and wait for the event to end.

Abbot knows Steve, and he’s the reason Ned’s at Adams at all.

And he knows Beverly.

He sits in his car for a long time after he drops Pat off, as if he needs to make sure Pat has made it home safe, gotten inside his door and locked it behind him.

Team Ned. He likes the sound of that. Trust Pat to come up with it on the spur of the moment.

Or maybe Pat thought of that a long while ago. Maybe he’s always considered himself Team Ned, watching out for Ned as surely as Dan and Cheryl do.

He pictures going back to the Coppolas’ house and facing them if he hasn’t done everything he possibly can for Ned. He can’t. There’s no choice in the end, so he steels himself and pulls out his phone.

Don’t answer, he silently pleads as his call rings.

“Henry?” Beverly asks, delight in her voice. “I can’t believe you still have this number.”

She still has hers, he could point out, though at least their text thread died with his last phone. Funeral arrangements, that had been. All the work she’d done to ensure everything was just so, keeping Abbot in the loop, as she’d promised she would. Asked for his opinions too, about food and flowers, and if he didn’t respond, she’d call him until he answered just to make sure you’re okay.

“Hello,” he manages.

“How are you?”

“Fine.”

“Fine,” she repeats, and he can hear the smile in her voice. “It was so good to see you the other day. And to meet Ned! I’ve heard so much about him from your father.”

Abbot stares down at his lap. Say something, he instructs himself.

“And from Liesl, of course,” Beverly goes on when he doesn’t. “I think she’s Ned’s biggest fan.”

Desperate, Abbot looks at Pat’s door again like he’ll reappear and save him.

And then what? Ask Abbot why he can’t manage to talk to his mother’s best friend? “He’s very good with her,” Abbot pushes out.

“Well, she is really excited to visit you soon. I heard all about her plans. I think you’re making clafoutis with her.”

She pronounces it with a strong American accent and Abbot nearly corrects her. The pronunciation and the fact he won’t make those. Zuger kirschtorte, maybe, depending on how Ned feels about Peggy having a bit of kirsch. Or they could find a cherry syrup to use.

But nothing so French, and especially not clafoutis. “I wanted to talk about your offer,” Abbot says, which is a bald lie, since he really just wants to hang up.

“I’m so glad to hear that.”