in the woods, as long as they are legal and, well, legal. The pickers have almost all gone for the winter, so there’re only a few Poles left to help on the farm.”
“Been presented with any more condoms lately?” he asks, coughing discreetly. “What was all that about, anyway?”
I tell him about Logan, and that amuses him even more than the pickers’ camp.
“And Giles knew about this?”
“Yes, I…he advised me on how to deal with Logan.”
Tim gazes straight ahead at the path. “See, I told you he’s a nice guy.”
“Yes, you did.”
“Then why don’t you kiss him already!”
I almost trip over my own feet. “What?”
Tim is embarrassed, but he is even more annoyed than he is embarrassed. “What about Giles?” he asks ruthlessly.
Panic. “What about Giles?”
“I want you to keep Giles here in Ardrossan! Don’t you get it? Why do you think I’ve been throwing the two of you together?”
All I can do is shake my head in disbelief.
“I—I don’t even—know where to—throwing us together?”
“Of course.”
“What do you mean, of course?”
Tim digs his hands into his coat pockets.
“I’m worried that now he’s divorced he’ll go back to England!”
“Tim, are you—do you love Giles?”
“Of course I love Giles! But I’m not in love with him, if that’s what you mean, you silly girl. But I don’t want to work in this place without him!”
That makes two of us.
“It’s a cunning plan, Tim, but like all such plans, completely bonkers. Apart from the tiny detail that I’d be risking my reputation and my chances of renewal if I started having affairs with tenured colleagues!”
“Don’t be stupid.” Tim kicks a stone out of his way. “Nobody would care. A bit of gossip, a few snide remarks—but aren’t you getting those anyway? It’s not like you’re writing your dissertation with him or anything.”
“It’s. Not. That. Simple!” I am so bowled over by his nonchalance that I stop in the middle of the path to shout at him.
Tim frowns at my vehemence, then he grins.
“So you have thought about it.”
“What? No! I’m just—look who’s talking, anyway! You’re hiding in a closet sealed off like a panic room, but you’re telling me an affair with Giles wouldn’t hurt my tenure prospects? Hypocrite!”
“That’s different.”
“I’ll say! Will you come out when you have tenure?”
I expect a rebuff for this diversion, but he pushes his fists into his coat jackets and turns to walk back on the path.
“Maybe. C’mon, I’m getting cold. Martin…is holding a shotgun to my chest.”
“Tired of playing hide-and-seek, is he?”
“He wants us to move in together officially, or he’ll throw me out. Out of his apartment and out of his life.”
“I don’t blame him. Well, how much do you like Martin, on a scale from one to ten?”
Tim throws me a disgusted glance, then he sighs.
“It’s not that. I hate all that labeling.”
“Bullshit. Everyone is labeled everywhere all the time. You don’t have the guts to try to be happy, that’s all.”
“Oh, yeah? Tell me, Dr. Freud, how happy are you on a scale from one to ten?”
I acknowledge this hit with a shrug and a nod, but I cannot answer him. Instead, I slip my arm into his and lean against him as we walk.
“A hot cup of tea would make me happy now.”
We have just sat down in the Eatery when Sam Ruffin and Terry Nyman appear and indicate by surreptitious thumbs-up that the department committee has approved Tim’s application for tenure. Now the chair, the Dean, and the Provost have to do the same.
“Mental note,” I murmur into my mug. “Must mail order for his-and-his bath towels. When’s the house-warming party, Timothy, darling?”
Chapter 33
THE FALL SEMESTER CONCLUDES WITH TWO PARTIES, but I am not much looking forward to either of them. The first is Bernie’s and Elvira’s house-warming. I know, because she told me, that one item on Elvira’s agenda for the evening is to introduce me to as many single men as she can manage. It’s nice of her to do that, and I make an effort to play my part. The long-sleeved black dress that covers my knees and collarbones is what is known in some circles as “sexy tznius.” Tznius is modest attire according to Jewish orthodox custom. The sexy part is that it is close-fitting and has tiny mother-of-pearl buttons all down the back. It works, in a severe sort of way, but I don’t do it justice. I know I’m an ungrateful wretch, but I simply cannot muster the spirit to flirt, let alone be really interested,