“I wish I had more to give,” I said.

“Je m’en fou!” she shouted. “Je m’en fou!”

Gewoben vom verblendenden Geschicke

Hilary Gill had made it through the departmental vote regarding her tenure, no small feat given her lack of work; the quality of her work and the promise of it had persuaded most of us. The harsh news, and harsher because the news came so quickly, was that the dean had denied Hilary tenure. The response within our ranks was not one of surprise, and there was not much desire to push back. Not even I was surprised. However, I became immediately irate, first because the decision had come so quickly as to appear an insult to our judgment and second because I was constitutionally disposed to find the actions of any dean or upper administrator suspect, ill considered, and wrong.

I walked into Hilary’s windowless office and sat on the hard chair beside her desk. We sat there without speaking for a minute or so. I looked at a picture on the wall that I imagined was her sister, but I didn’t ask. Hilary sighed, got up and shut her door, came back to sit at her desk.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“It’s not your fault.”

“I’m afraid I got your hopes up.”

“It felt good for a while,” she said. “Being hopeful.”

“You realize that this is complete bullshit. The dean knows shit, that’s the first thing. If the department says yes, she should say yes.”

“Well, she didn’t. I appreciate your support. Believe me.”

“I can’t let it go.”

She laughed. “What does that mean? Listen, I didn’t do the work. You told me that a long time ago.”

“You actually did do the work. You just didn’t happen to show it to anyone. Well, until now.”

“Anyway.”

I stood, perhaps a bit suddenly. I was angry.

“What?”

“I’m going over to talk to that asshole,” I said.

“The dean?”

“Yes, the asshole dean. Do you know another asshole I need to talk to?”

“Don’t do that,” Hilary said. Hilary stood and put her hand on my arm. “I don’t want you to talk to the dean.”

“The chair should do it,” I said.

“We talked about this before. I told you, I’m simply not cut out for academia. It’s not my thing.”

“First of all, that’s bullshit. You’re a good scientist. You’re a great teacher.”

She shrugged.

“Let me talk to the chair.”

“No.” She kissed me gently on the lips.

I kissed her back, then pulled away. “I’m sorry,” I told her.

“About what?”

“I never should have kissed you.”

“I know that,” she said.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“I’ve got a lot on my mind these days.” I knew I sounded nervous, scared even. I was suddenly thinking of Sarah. I sat down again. “I’m confused about a lot of things in my life, and I’m afraid I was sort of using you as a distraction.”

“I see.”

“I don’t think you do,” I said. “I’m really sorry.”