“My sister is an alcoholic Miss..? ” She said quietly.

“Grant! Stephanie Grant!” I snapped feeling my anger returning in full force.

“Miss. Grant.” She repeated in quiet firm tone. “As I was saying my sister is an alcoholic and she will say anything you want to hear as long as you are buying the drinks. I’m sorry that you wasted your time. Good luck with your paper. Now I must be going so if you don’t mind?”

“It is a book.” I hissed at her. “And this is my cab.” I remember hearing her laughing as I jumped into the taxi. I had never felt so foolish in my entire life and with my childhood there had been plenty to feel foolish about.

But that was so long ago, the woman that I was watching now bore no resemblance to the one who had been so cruel to me then. All I can possibly hope for now is that she did not remember our first encounter. But a part of me could not help but remain suspicious. Could this charming persona be an act for her students? After all I am certain that many juries found her charming as well. Perhaps I should reserve my full assessment on Miss. Kendell until I have the opportunity to view her without an audience.

I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned to see Dr. Camden motioning for me to follow her. As the chairperson of Haven’s history department Dr. Maureen Camden had pursued me relentlessly to come here. In the end I discovered that it was my only real option. At a small University like Haven I would advance more quickly and then after my resume was better padded I could make the jump over to Harvard or my alma mater Yale. Dr. Camden was thrilled when I finally accepted her offer. I did not have the heart to tell her that I was simply using Haven as a short cut to a higher position at a more prestigious University. But no one had to know about that, it was simply part of my life plan.

“Tell me Dr. Camden …” I started to say.

“Maureen.” She interrupted.

“Maureen.” I responded with a smile. “What is your opinion of Professor Kendell’s classes?”

“What do you mean?” She questioned.

“Pop Culture, The History of Television, courses of the evolution of TV commercials?” I asked in confusion. “I heard that she even teaches a course on soap operas? How does any of this relate to American History?”

The older blonde who stood slightly taller than myself chuckled. “To fully understand you would need to see her in action.” Maureen explained. “Allison is unconventional to say the least. But she really gets through to these kids. And she does not teach a course in soap operas. She does show examples of them and their effects on society in one of her more advanced Popular Culture courses.”

“I guess it just seems like fluff and not real hard core academics.” I questioned.

“On the surface maybe … but she brings it alive and shows how this country tries to redefine it’s history through media interpretation.” Maureen asserted with a friendly smile.

I knew that I would have to tread carefully, it was obvious that these two women were friends. Maureen showed me around the campus. It was small yet beautiful. Old ivy covered buildings nestled in a small town near the ocean. It was something out of Currier and Ives. This was going to be a very nice place to live and work. Well, until a better offer rolled along. But this was a comfortable place to spend the next two or three years and maybe once Peter could relocate, we could start thinking about moving our relationship along further. Everything was falling into place. Just as I had planned.

After we completed the grand tour, Maureen showed me my new office. It was small but it had a grand old window that spanned from floor to near ceiling, with a view of the campus below. One side was bare with the exception of a desk, chair and a barren mahogany bookcase. The other half was filled completely with clutter. Books and magazines covered the desk and computer and I could detect the outline of a what I could only assume was a sofa. But it was buried so deeply beneath clutter that I could not say for certain that there was an actual piece of furniture laying beneath.

Suddenly the massive pile near a file cabinet began to move. My heart leapt as Allison Kendell emerged from behind it. She was grinning strangely. “Allison!” Maureen scolded the woman who displayed a look similar to a deer caught in someone’s headlights. “Are you smoking again?”

“No.” Allison answered innocently as a puff of smoke escaped from her lips.

“Allison you know the rules. No smoking on campus.” Maureen chastised her.

“Okay. I’m sorry.” Allison pouted as she extinguished her cigarette into an ashtray she had apparently hidden behind the file cabinet.

“I cannot believe that you started again. You of all people should know better.” Maureen chastised her as the tall brunette rolled her eyes. “And when are you going to clean up this mess? I swear you are worse than my kids.”

“I try.” Allison teased with a devilish smile.

“Behave.” Maureen cautioned her.

“Or?” Allison teased.

“Stop it.” Maureen groaned in exasperation. “Allison Kendell this is Dr. Stephanie Grant your new cell mate.”

“Stan is gone?” Allison beamed.

“Yes you finally drove him out.” Maureen responded in a defeated tone. “The moment Carl announced his retirement Stan approached me about his office.”

“You know what this means Maureen? You owe me dinner at the Top of the Hub.” Allison smirked.

“Yes, but you started smoking again.” Maureen countered.

“So … Dutch treat at Church Street?” Allison conceded. Maureen nodded in agreement. Allison finally turned and noticed me standing there. I was more than a little stunned at the exchange. My previous appointments were all business it was professor this or doctor that. No one ever addressed a colleague let alone the department head by their first name.

“So roomie tell me about yourself?” Allison asked her in a friendly manner.

“I gave you her resume.” Maureen said dryly.

“You did?” Allison responded in a puzzled tone as she looked around the mess that constituted her half of the office.

“I need to get back to work.” Maureen excused herself. “Play nice.” She pointed to Allison as she made her departure.

I could feel my heart begin to race as I stood there. For the first time in my life I was at a complete loss as to how I should behave. Allison Kendell was in some ways larger than life. But I suppose you can afford being what my Grandmother would refer to as a character when you have a big old trust fund waiting for you. She began to approach me as my pulse began to quicken. I swallowed deeply as she gently reached out her hand. “Allison.” She said with a bright smile.

“Stephanie.” I smiled in return as I took her hand and shook it firmly. My arm felt alive from her touch.

“Welcome aboard.” She added gently as she released my hand from her grip. My body felt a strange sense of loss as her fingers left my own. “Sorry about the mess.” She apologized. “I did it mostly to annoy Stan.” Then she mumbled something I could not quite catch. The only word I was certain of was “bastard”. I was uncertain of the rest of the statement, since I was more focused on the sudden coolness that swept through my body when she removed her hand. This was most definitely not the same woman I met in New York. I could not help but wonder what had brought on such a miraculous change.



* * *

I discovered settling into life at Haven much easier than I had initially expected. I found myself really hitting it off with Allison. I soon discovered that we had a great deal in common. She eagerly taught me the ins and outs of the university’s red tape. The best times to hit the copy center. She even expedited the arrival of my computer. Soon I found myself sitting in on her classes instead of hunting for an apartment. Classes would be starting in a few days and I still had not found anything that suited by my needs and my budget. I would not be eligible for one of the University’s houses until I had established tenure. I was sadden by the thought that I would not be here that long. Then again Haven already felt like home. Perhaps settling here wouldn’t be a bad idea either and the faculty homes were beautiful.

Peter and I were playing phone tag and we had not spoken in almost two weeks. This was the first time we had ever spent this much time apart. He was looking for work in the area and hopefully would be joining me soon. That was one of the reasons I needed to select the perfect apartment. Everything seemed to be falling into place. One of the reasons I knew that Peter and I would be a good match is because of the work he did. Working with computers he could not only maintain stability but he could find work anywhere. So if I received an offer that I wanted to accept we could just pick up and go. The other reason that Peter was perfect was that he was my best friend.

It was all a part of my life plan. My female friends had always teased me about my plan. But I know that I am right. So, I had planned out my life. A map to the future as it was. I watched as my girl friends from high school and college suffer one heartache after another. Not me. I was never one to get all giggly and insecure over some boy. Peter and I had been friends at UConn. and then when I went on to Yale we started dating. So it wasn’t all hearts and flowers but in my humble opinion romance was over rated.

Maybe my attitude stems from losing my parents at such a young age. Because of what I had seen in their marriage I knew that I had to be sensible about the men in my life. My Mother had made the wrong choice and it caused her nothing but heartache. That was not going to happen to me. My Father who had never been around much, spent most of his time gambling and chasing other women. His death although it was never proven, was payback from a jealous husband. My Mother died far too young. She left this world a broken and bitter woman. When I was finally old enough to fully understand what had happened to my parents, I vowed that I would always follow my head and never my heart.