“Behind every great man...” Robert murmured as he opened his portfolio. He placed his papers and note cards neatly before him. “Speaking of women, I hope seeing Professor Brennan won’t be too awkward?”

Lisa was the least of his worries. Aiden knew how to be cordial with another professional if it meant getting on with the day. He’d had plenty of practice. “Not at all.”

“That’s my boy.” Robert stood, clapping him on the back. “I’m going to see about my projector slides.” Aiden smiled as he watched the old man wander off in search of the graduate student who was running the panel. Robert was so old-school that he still didn’t understand someone, possibly a graduate assistant, had already turned his presentation into a PowerPoint.

Out in the audience, the seats were steadily filling with scholars from all over the country. It was going to be a packed house tonight. The crowd didn’t bother Aiden, he had presented and attended enough of these conferences to know how to work a crowd. Inevitably, there would be questions from scholars who only stood to talk about their own research. They would no doubt take away the focus from the speaker with droll observations and long explanations about how wrong he was. No, Aiden. You’re not going to be a nihilist about this. It was still an honor to be accepted into the conference and he promised himself to attend the other panels after his.

“Dr. Byrnes,” said a familiar female voice behind him.

Aiden turned in his seat. “Dr. Brennan.”

She sat beside him, wearing her most professional black pantsuit. Her black bob was pinned to the side. “It appears that we’ll have a good turnout today,” she said in a light voice.

“Looks like it,” he said. “Could you find parking alright?”

She chuckled. “Barely. Now that I don’t work here anymore, parking privileges are a thing of the past. And the kids going to Spiddal are already getting bussed out.”

“Yeah, my niece is heading out on Friday.”

“Hell might be trying to navigate a sea of preteen girls to get to school,” she said. “I felt like I was transported to grade school again and got triggered.”

Aiden smiled. “There’s been a lot of that going around.”

Donald Maguire eventually showed up, greeted the panel, and commenced with setting up the podium microphone. He would be presenting a paper and chairing the panel. His presence meant that they were finally getting started. Aiden smoothed down his neck tie and straightened his blazer. He decided to take a formal approach to his conference attire, wearing the suit that he bought for last year’s commencement ceremony. When Lisa dragged him to the tailor to purchase it, she insisted on the European cut, which made him uncomfortable. He at least chose the color, a gun-metal gray that worked well with his eyes according to the saleswoman.

The auditorium was filled to capacity just as Donald cleared his throat. “I think it’s time we got started,” he said to the shuffling audience. People took their seats and chatter died down. “I’d like to introduce this panel of scholars who have set aside time to share their valuable research in cultural studies. These men and women will discuss the importance of Irish Literature and its role in the global community. I will contribute through the lens of philosophy, so I offer my apologies now.”