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The associate dean shoots him a look. “Perhaps you can save personal questions until after the talk. Dr. Robinson is here to discuss hisresearch.”
I brush him off. “It’s fine.” I shift a hip on the desk at the front of the room. “It’s a great question, actually,” I say absently, sticking my hands in mypockets.
I play with the edge of thephoto.
“A few months ago, my advice would’ve been to keep your nose down, work hard. And that’s important. But you should also try new things.” I think about Beck. “Don’t worry about detours, even if other people don’tagree.
“It’s easy to feel like you’re on a treadmill, trying to keep up. But you’re missing the point. None of us grow up wanting to work in a vacuum. I’m all for publications, for getting tenure and having colleagues validate what I’m doing. But it’s a beautiful thing, knowing that when we leave this world, we’ve changed something. Left something different that matters outside thisbuilding.”
* * *
As the carspeeds toward the airport, the heavy fog in the air feels warm, not cold. The dean’s parting words of congratulations for a job well done have me leaning back against the seat, my eyesclosing.
Until my phone vibrates with anemail.
Wes,
Thanks for takingthe time to speak with me. As we discussed, the DNA technology is still early-stage and I’m not an expert in the methods. It would have been interesting to work on it together, but I understand you’d prefer to sell outright than to partner. I’m sure you’ll find the rightinvestor.
Ben
Ireadit a couple of times, then blow out a longbreath.
“Sir? We’rehere.”
I pay the cab driver and force my legs to work as I collect mybags.
Inside the front doors of the airport, I stop and bang out atext.
Wes:Can I callyou?
Iwaitto get through security, then stick in my headphones and use the video callfunction.
“Hey,” Rena answers breathlessly. “Where areyou?”
“Airport.”
I thought seeing her face might release some of the tension in me, and it does—her hair, pulled back in its ponytail, her eyes bright, a glass of wine in her hand, and the faintest imprint of that red lipstick on theedge.
“Is that Scrunchie?” I nod to the black fuzzy object in the corner of theframe.
“Yes. He missesyou.”
“He doesnot.”
Her red lips curve, and I wish they were under mine. “Your mom made some suggestions to keep him away from the door. They’re working. How did your talkgo?”
“Well.”
Part of me wants to spill the news about Ben. But seeing her bright face on the screen, I don’t want to put a damper onthis.
“Thanks for your good-luck charm.” I feel for where I tucked it safely in my wallet, pulling out another sheet of printed paper. “It gave me a matching one for this.” I hold itup.
“What the…? Is that a picture of my picture of ourpicture?”
“Yes. I didn’t know you’d give the other one back tome.”
Rena’s face dissolves into an emotion I can’t name but want to. “That’s surprisingly sweet. I didn’t peg you as the sentimentaltype.”
