Authors: Barbara Delinsky
Charles scratched the top of his head. "I'm thinking that you ought to consider taking a leave of absence."
Her heart skipped a beat. "What?"
"A leave of absence."
She glanced around in bewilderment. It seemed that a tiny germ of rumor had exploded into havoc. "This is absurd"
"I won't have a scandal in my department. God only knows we have trouble enough getting grants nowadays, but a professor-student liaison enroute to a suicide will not help the cause. If you very quietly remove yourself from the scene, things may remain quiet."
"Where is this coming from?" she cried. "I thought you liked me."
"I like this department more."
She stood before him, disappointed and unnerved. She wanted to be on her way but suddenly saw that she couldn't be. Whether there was merit to it or not, a scandal might ruin her career. It might--she nearly died at the thought--hurt Sam's career. She had to hear Charles out. She had to get to the hospital and pray that Jason would wake up and tell the truth.
"May I use your phone?" she asked in a shaky voice. At Charles's nod, she called Sam's office. The instant she heard his voice, she said, "I have a problem here at school. You'd better go on to the hearing without me." She tried to sound calm but failed dismally. She knew it the instant she heard his concern.
"What's wrong?"
"A tough problem."
"Tell me, Annie."
The last thing Sam needed was this, just before his hearing. But she was frightened enough, selfish enough, desperate enough for support, to tell him. "Jason Faust was found unconscious this morning. He's in a coma. They suspect an overdose of drugs."
"Annie, I'm sorry."
"The problem," she hurried on, angry now, too, "is that Charles Honnemann, in whose office I stand as we speak, is suggesting that I'm the cause of Jason's suicide attempt. He suggests that I either had an affair with Jason or led him on to the extent that he was so lovesick that he tried to kill himself."
"That's absurd!" Sam said.
"Charles would like me to take a leave of absence to let whatever happened quietly blow over."
"That's ridiculous!"
His vehemence made her wonder how she had ever doubted his loyalty. Shaking inside, she said,
"That's what I say, but Charles doesn't agree. I have to stay here and work it out with him. My career is at stake. So is yours."
"But he has no proof! This is all speculation and will be so until the boy can speak for himself!"
"I know," she said less calmly, because Sam sounded upset, which was the last thing he needed before his hearing.
"Stay there," he ordered. "I'm coming." She gasped. "You can't do that. Your hearing is in little more than an hour. You can't possibly get here and back in time."
"I'll postpone it."
"But you can't! It's too important, Sam!"
"This is more important."
"No, no"--she looked straight at Charles--"it's just a stupid rumor that people with idle minds and inadequate sex lives have bandied about." She was livid. "You can't miss that hearing,"
"Is Honnemann there?"
"Uh-huh."
"Put him on."
"Sam--"
"Put him on."
Annie passed the phone to Charles. His expression was stony during the short time Sam talked. When he hung up the phone he said, "Your husband insists on coming here. He says that we are to stay in this building until he arrives. He says that my accusations border on libel and that he will have no qualms in suing me and the college if your career is unnecessarily besmirched."
But the confirmation hearing, Annie thought, and turned away. She went to the farthest corner of the room from Charles's desk and sank onto a chair. It was a straight chair with a high back, baldly uncomfortable, as befitted Annie's mood. She wished Sam
weren't coming. They both wanted that judgeship for him. Postponing the hearing, particularly on such late notice, might be a mark against him. His risking that for her made mockery of those last few lingering doubts she'd had.
She sat in humble silence for a while. Then she suddenly came to life and jumped up. She crossed the room, picked up the phone, and called the hospital. Patient information told her nothing. When she tried to connect with a doctor, she was put on hold, where she sat for ten minutes before hanging up the phone.
"I honestly didn't see signs of depression," she said aloud, because that was what she had been brooding about during those ten minutes. She thought herself fairly observant. She had seen signs that Zoe had been unhappy; her running off to Papa Pete had been something Annie might have done herself. Likewise she had seen signs that Jon wanted Leigh, so that Leigh's pregnancy, while untimely, wasn't out of the blue. Jason's attempting suicide, though, made no sense. "There was nothing in his writing. Usually you can tell from that. He's given me original works, short stories and poems, and the themes aren't particularly dark. They run the gamut of emotions. They can't be construed, in any way, as a cry for help."
Returning to her seat, she thought of Sam nearing, thought of the sacrifice he was making and the kind of love that made that possible. Suddenly the story he had given for what had happened with Teke seemed perfectly plausible. It made total sense that he had been wanting Annie so much that he had lost control, thinking of Annie, with Teke. She should have believed his story from the start. She should have trusted him. She felt like a fool.
He came through the door in a whirl of tweed,
looking as close to a knight in shining armor as Annie would ever see. He went to her first, held her tightly for a minute, then approached Charles.
"You've accused my wife of improper behavior involving a student. I'd like to hear the evidence on which you base that accusation." Charles sat stiffly. "There has been evidence. Your wife and Jason Faust spend an inordinate amount of time together."
"Not inordinate," Annie said, feeling bold now that Sam was here. She stood by his shoulder. "Jason is my leading teaching assistant. He's my right hand around here. In addition, I'm supervising his thesis work. That calls for meetings."
"People have commented."
"What people?" Sam asked.
Charles raised one brow. "Faculty members have spoken to me. I never followed it up because Dr. Pope is well liked by her students. Her classes are among the first filled each term. I assumed there might be some jealousy behind these reports."
Annie hadn't thought of that. She liked to give people the benefit of the doubt, particularly when they were different from her, as so many members of the department were. She was angry now that she wasn't given the same courtesy.
"These reports from faculty members," Sam went on, "are they based on instances where specific improprieties were observed?"
"I never was given specifics, but there were enough suspicions to suggest them."
"Suspicions will never stand up in a court of law," Sam informed him in a voice that Annie could hear coming straight from the bench. He deserved that judgeship. He had to get it. "Suspicions won't even be admitted into evidence. A jury won't be allowed to hear them." Charles waved a hand. "No one is talking about going to court."
"I am. You've leveled serious charges against my wife. She has certain rights, one of which is that she is innocent until proven guilty."
"No one is saying she's guilty."
"You suggested she take a leave of absence. Wouldn't that be an admission of guilt?"
Charles ran a finger under the collar of his shirt. "No. It would simply give things time to blow over."
"But what is there to blow over?" Sam asked. "So far, all we have is gossip coming from a jealous faculty. What about the girl who was here before?"
"Georgia Nichols," Annie supplied. "I introduced you to her when you were here for lunch once. She's a graduate student. She pals around with Jason."
"Is she in love with Jason?" Sam asked Charles.
"I don't know. But she was the one who found him in his apartment."
"Does she live with him?"
"Not that I know of."
"Then she had a key and let herself in, which means that she has a relationship with the boy beyond that of a passing acquaintance. Perhaps Jason does have a crush on my wife, or simply likes her a lot. Perhaps Georgia is jealous."
"It's possible," Charles acknowledged reluctantly.
"Isn't it therefore possible that her charges are false?"
"She claims Jason said that he was in love with your wife."
"Did Jason say it in jest?"
"I don't know. I wasn't there."
"Well, none of us was, Dr. Honnemann, and I would suggest that you squelch any and all rumors until we can talk with Jason himself."
"That may not be possible," Charles said, but his voice had come a long way from its earlier righteousness. "He's in a coma."
"Then I'd suggest," Sam said without missing a beat, "that we go to the hospital and try to speak with one of his doctors." He slipped a hand around Annie's arm and ushered her from the office.
"Oh, Sam," she cried the minute they hit the fresh air, "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to screw up everything this way. What will happen with the hearing?"
He sent her an easygoing smile. "Tomorrow. Same time, same place." She felt a measure of relief. "They didn't give you any trouble?"
"I said it was a family emergency. How could they give me trouble?" She could imagine dozens of ways. "They may think you have an unstable family or a history of family emergencies that will keep you calling in sick all the time."
"Word is that I'm a workaholic. When I say it's an emergency, it's an emergency." He put an arm around her waist and held her close as they walked. "It was no sweat, Annie. Really. You've worked too hard to put up with Honnemann's accusations. The gall of him to ask you to take a leave based on gossip."
Annie stopped walking, took his arms, and said, "I have to tell you something, Sam." She hurried the words out before she lost her nerve. The time was right. Instinct--and love of Sam--told her that. "I've been wanting to tell you for months, but I was afraid. There is nothing between Jason and me, there really is nothing, but several weeks after the thing with you and Teke, I'd had a nightmare of a day, topped off by a faculty meeting to which I was late. I was feeling self-conscious and inferior and every negative thing I've ever felt. Jason followed
me back to my office, we talked, and one thing led to another. But nothing happened," she stressed because Sam had gone pale, "nothing at all! I wanted to feel beautiful and sexy, but I wanted you to be the one making me feel those things. I couldn't do anything with Jason because he wasn't you."
After a minute's silence, during which she died ten deaths, Sam asked a quiet, "How far did it go?"
"There were a few dislodged clothes. That's all. He was upset." Sam looked more sad than anything else. "Is he in love with you?"
"I don't think so. I talked with him about it afterward. He knows I love you. He knows I can never love him--or do anything with him. We really are friends. That's all. He hasn't come on to me once since then. We had, we have a comfortable working relationship. I can't believe he would attempt suicide over me, but there were other things that might have upset him. His dad has just developed serious money problems, so for the first time in his life Jason has to worry about money, and in the midst of all that, he learned that he's diabetic." She remembered his nonchalance. It had to have hid concern. "Could he have committed suicide over that?"
"Or could he be in a diabetic coma?" Sam took her elbow and set off again. "That day you and I ate in the coffee shop, you said he looked peaked."
"That was before he learned the diagnosis. But he hasn't looked well ever since, either." She stopped again, took his arms again. After worrying so long about telling him what had happened with Jason, she refused to be let off the hook by Jason's health. "I'm sorry for all this, Sam. Have I hurt you, doing that with Jason?" Sadly he said, "How can I be hurt if I was the one on your mind?"
"I should have known better."
"We all should at times, but we don't. So, do we love each other, warts and all?" He gave her a lopsided, Sam-gorgeous smile. "I do love you, sunshine, warts and all."
For the first time in months she felt happy. Without a thought to decorum, she wrapped her arms around his neck. "I love you, too, Sam. You're the best thing that ever happened to me." She squeezed him tightly, then whispered, "I've been tormented by this. I thought you'd be angry and turn away. I thought you wouldn't want to look at me. I've been feeling so guilty. I feel so ashamed now."
"Shame is a wasted emotion," he breathed into her hair. "Not productive at all. Come." With an exquisitely gentle kiss to her forehead, he led her on. "Let's go talk with those doctors and see if we can shed a little light on your boy's problems." The guilt she felt now came from her own lightheartedness. Sam knew and still loved her. She might have danced for joy, had it not been for Jason's problems.
They arrived at the hospital fully prepared to find a scene comparable in heartache to the one in which they'd found Michael. They did find Jason's parents, but there was neither fear nor shock. Jason was in bed, and although he didn't look quite up to playing a game of ultimate Frisbee, he was wide awake.
"We were prepared to find you half-dead!" Annie told him after being introduced to his parents. "Honnemann said you were in a coma. Does Georgia know you're okay?"
He nodded. "She called just now." He sounded exhausted.
"What was it?" Annie asked quietly.
"My medicine."
"He didn't tell us that he had been diagnosed," his mother said, "or we'd have brought him home to our own specialist."
"Mother, my doctor here is a specialist, too."
"Well, he did something wrong, didn't he!"
"Ease up, Addie," Jason's father said.
Annie shifted her body so that she could feel Sam behind her. "Word came back that you had taken an overdose of drugs. Honnemann was in a stir thinking that one of his students had tried to do himself in." Jason chuckled. He closed his eyes. "The old coot probably imagined I did it for love of you, Annie."