Page 53 of The New Place

No, not even a little bit, but if Abbot can drag himself into this woman’s presence when he’d clearly rather climb out the window, Ned can play ball too. “Portland, Maine, is a pretty small urban area, but all the same we had transfers to Callahan from more remote parts of the state.” He leans forward and lets his eyes fall on a framed picture of a little boy wearing shin guards, one foot resting on a soccer ball. “Is that the south shore travel league? I heard the coaches there are great.”

Beverly glances at it and her face softens. “My grandson, and yes. He loves it.”

“My daughter’s in basketball this winter,” Ned says. “Maybe we’ll try for soccer this spring.” He really might, not just for the sake of casual conversation. T-ball is a possibility too, and soccer is equally an option because a ball, cleats, and shin guards are in the budget. He just really needs Peggy to not come home asking to ride a horse or play ice hockey or some other expensive activity he’ll have to gently say no to.

Especially if he doesn’t have a job. How embarrassing to even think about. He straightens and adds, “He’s pretty cute.”

“He is,” Beverly says. “And yes, Charles mentioned your daughter.”

Ned relaxes a fraction. Talking about kids? He can do this: Get Beverly to see him as a person, not a problem. “She’s turned this guy into an absolute font of dinosaur knowledge.”

“I can imagine you’re both looking forward to being together here in Boston.”

Which is why I’m offering you a job right this very moment, Ned wills her to continue, as if that’s even remotely what she might say next.

“So,” Beverly says, leaning back in her chair. “Ned. Tell me about yourself.”

Yeah, Ned can handle this too. He puts on another smile. He laid awake last night going over his résumé, his work, his courses, his entire life, ready to recount it for her in the most confident way he can. “Well, as you know, I’m an assistant professor at Adams. Been there since graduating from Callahan. And you know Chris up there, clearly. He was my advisor and my committee chair both. I was so lucky to get to work with him.”

And to dodge his latest scheme. A book club, apparently, the book in question one Abbot’s been using to weigh down a collage Peggy made him of what is supposed to be a dinosaur eating a donut. Somehow. Maybe it’ll be clearer when the book has pressed the curling, glue-soaked paper into its proper shape.

“He’s such a gem,” Beverly says. “He worked hard to get Henry to come to Callahan, and I can’t say I don’t feel bad trying to steal him away.”

Ned turns to Abbot. He’s never heard that story, he realizes now. How Abbot came to work for Chris all those years ago, and why he ended up at Callahan and not a more prestigious university, or off somewhere in Europe.

Not that Abbot jumps in to explain, of course.

“Callahan was a great fit,” Ned says before the silence can get awkward. “Adams has been too. I’m really happy with my courses and the research I’ve been working on, and I’d love to be able to stay, but we all know what direction the university is headed.”

“And you two want to be in Boston,” Beverly says.

“My daughter’s here,” Ned says.

Abbot shifts in his chair. “His whole family.”

Abbot’s usual coolness laces his voice, a note of Isn’t that obvious? in his tone. Ned once took it for simply his intelligence and impatience with anyone not operating on his level, but all he hears now is Abbot’s discomfort. He wants to reach out to touch Abbot again, reassure them both, but probably not the best idea when he’s aiming for professional as hell in this meeting.

Still, a warm glow settles in Ned’s chest at Abbot’s words. Yeah, Ned’s family is here, and Abbot’s willing to move here because of it. He could go anywhere, land a job at any university he wants to, and he’s choosing Boston because of Ned.

“It’s going to be great to both be down here,” Ned says. Perfect, he lets himself think. This conversation is going according to plan. He’d strategized this too: heading off the elephant in the room before Beverly can ask. “We’d just started dating when I moved. We really didn’t know each other until I was pretty much defending my dissertation, and then I had this job offer close to my daughter. She was living here in Boston with her mom while I finished my doctorate, and I was up in Maine.”

“You took Henry’s class, as a doctoral student?”

Ned makes himself nod, ignoring the flush that warms his face. Yeah, okay, Ned dated his professor. What an ideal job candidate he is. He’s lucky they even let him in the building.

But he practiced this, and the words come easily. “I was in his class ages ago, in the initial coursework for my doctorate. Just the one stats class we were required to take, and I’ll be the first to tell you I am far and away a much stronger qualitative researcher. I’ve been working to prepare a study on incoming first-generation college students that would follow them from orientation through their first semester, with a focus on increasing retention and working with administration, advisors, and RAs on targeting students who find themselves not wanting to return for a second term.” Yes, there: Ned managed to wedge in a mention of his research. Next, he’ll work the topic over to how this research dovetails into a seminar he’s excited to teach, and from there⁠—

“Chris has a lot to say about the two of you.”

Ned lets out a laugh. “I’m sure he does.”

She glances between them again. “Charles did too.”

Oh. Great. Ned can only imagine how that went, and carefully keeps the smile on his face.

“So, I’m sorry, I’m just trying to get the timeline straight,” Beverly says. “You two started seeing each other last year?”

“Years after I took that course,” Ned confirms, and it’s glossing over things, but he adds, “I basically had my defense date scheduled. I know it’s unconventional that I was a doctoral candidate and he was—is—a professor, but I can assure you that nothing inappropriate⁠—”