Page 13 of Learning Curves

“What do you teach, Audrey?” Greta asked, and Audrey yanked herself back into the conversation.

“I’ve got a couple of ceramics classes, which I’m absolutely loving.

I’m a potter in my spare time, so I could talk about pottery techniques for hours.

But my favorite is my Women in Art class, which evolved from my PhD dissertation.

I’ve been passionate about women artists since I took Michelle’s art history class my freshman year of college.

” She lobbed the compliment, hoping to ease them back into the rapport they’d shared last night, but Michelle’s expression had gone flat.

Greta turned toward Michelle. “She’s teaching your class?”

What did that mean? Michelle’s class? Audrey made a mental note to find out later.

“No, not mine.” Michelle stared into the amber liquid in her glass. “This is a new class Audrey developed.”

“Well, that’s wonderful,” Greta said. “And what a full circle moment, Audrey, to have been Michelle’s student and now to be here teaching in the same department.”

“It is,” Audrey agreed. “I couldn’t be happier.”

“Give us the scoop, Michelle,” Mercy said. “What was Audrey like as a student?”

Michelle sipped her drink, looking thoughtful. “It probably wouldn’t surprise you that she was very enthusiastic.”

Mercy laughed, nudging Audrey playfully. “That doesn’t surprise me one bit. Tell us more. Was Audrey a total teacher’s pet?”

Audrey sipped her punch as discomfort squirmed between her shoulder blades.

Right now, she was trying to find her footing with her new peers, to be taken seriously as a professor.

She didn’t want her colleagues thinking about her as a student.

Not to mention, she was a little afraid to hear what Michelle might say.

What if she’d noticed Audrey’s crush back then?

What if she commented on it now? That would be mortifying.

And so, so unprofessional.

“Audrey was one of my best students,” Michelle said, holding Audrey’s gaze.

“She always had intelligent questions, always wanted to know more than what I’d presented in class.

When I first met her, she was set on a career as a potter, but I soon saw that she had the mind of an academic with a real passion for art history, so I showed her the possibility of a career in academia.

” She paused, those golden brown eyes still locked on Audrey’s.

She sounded proud , and Audrey wanted to pinch herself. “And here we are.”

“Okay, that’s a hell of a story,” Mercy said. “Especially the part where Audrey ended up back here at Northshire.”

“I wish I could say I planned it this way,” Audrey said, “but I applied everywhere . I probably sent an application to every college and university in the Northeast. It’s hard for new professors right now.

I was spinning my wheels for a few years, so I definitely did a happy dance when my first full-time offer came from NU. ”

“Sounds like it turned out the way it was supposed to,” Mercy said.

Audrey agreed.

“If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to top off my drink and see what my husband’s gotten up to.” Greta excused herself and walked toward the house.

“And I see my husband over there being silly on the patio.” Mercy waved over her shoulder as she followed Greta.

Michelle turned to walk farther into the garden, perhaps having assumed Audrey would follow Mercy and Greta. Maybe she thought Audrey had a husband here, too, but she was wrong, and Audrey wasn’t going to pass up this opportunity to spend a few minutes alone with her.

Before she could change her mind, Audrey followed her down the path.

“Who are you here with tonight?”

Michelle glanced over her shoulder, surprised to realize Audrey was still there. “No one.”

“Same.” Audrey hurried forward to walk beside her. “We might be the only two single people here.”

“Probably.” Usually, Michelle was the only single.

Even before her divorce, it had been years since Kelly attended a department event with her.

She was always too busy with her own life.

She found these things so boring. So did Michelle, honestly, but Stuart made it clear he expected the faculty to put in an appearance.

She and Audrey lapsed into silence, sipping their drinks.

Michelle tended to have this effect on people.

Kelly used to say she could kill a conversation faster than a train going off the rails.

They’d reached the end of the hedge, so Michelle stopped walking, staring out at the Green Mountains in the distance, barely visible in the darkening sky.

“It’s so beautiful, isn’t it?” Audrey said quietly. “I’d forgotten how pretty it is here. Even my drive to the grocery store looks like it belongs on a postcard.”

“Mm,” Michelle murmured noncommittally.

“You don’t sound very enthusiastic about Vermont. Do you miss the UK?”

“Every single day.” Michelle heard the longing in her own voice, which was a lot more honest than she’d meant to be. She covered the moment by taking a hearty sip of her whisky.

“I’m sorry,” Audrey said. “Are your parents there? Do you still visit? Do you think you’ll ever move back?”

Michelle raised an eyebrow at her. That was a lot of questions. “Yes, my family is there. No, I don’t visit often, although I spent most of the summer in the UK, traveling between St. Ives and London, working on a research project.”

“It must be hard, being so far from home.” Audrey stood beside her, staring out at the darkened mountains. “My family’s only a few hours away, and I already miss them. My brother and I text a lot, but it’s not the same as seeing him.”

“It sounds like you’re close.” Michelle couldn’t relate. She hadn’t spoken to anyone in her family in months, and that was just fine with her.

“Yeah, we’re really close,” Audrey confirmed. “My brother’s pretty cool, even if he does like to tease me that I’m the kind of doctor who can’t save lives ... he’s an ER physician.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. If you teach long enough, you might just save a life or two.

I’ve talked a few undergrads off the proverbial ledge over the years.

It can be a hard time, caught between youth and adulthood.

” And it had been a long time since she’d helped anyone through a crisis.

Surely the students hadn’t stopped struggling.

Had she quit noticing? Or had they stopped coming to her for help?

Audrey stared at Michelle in wide-eyed admiration. “Have you? That’s ... I hadn’t considered that we have that much influence.”

“Never underestimate the power that you hold with the students. It’s a huge responsibility, and you shouldn’t take it lightly.”

“I won’t,” Audrey said solemnly.

“It certainly won’t be long before you have someone break down in tears during your office hours, though usually it’s not serious, mostly test stress. I do some volunteer work for the campus Pride Coalition, so I’ve helped students in crisis there too.”

“Oh, so you are —” Audrey cut herself off, looking so embarrassed, Michelle could guess what she’d been about to say.

“A lesbian? Be careful making assumptions, Audrey. There are several straight faculty members who volunteer with the Pride Coalition.”

Audrey pressed a hand over her eyes. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to jump to conclusions. Oh god, kill me now.”

She sounded absolutely miserable, and Michelle realized she’d done it again .

.. come off more serious than she’d intended.

Could no one read her sense of humor? She’d only meant to have a bit of fun, as her radar had led her to believe Audrey might not be straight either.

She’d thought they might share a laugh about it.

“Audrey, I’m teasing. I might not go around waving a rainbow flag, but everyone here knows I’m gay. I guess I assumed you did too.”

Audrey still had a hand over her face, but now she peeked at Michelle from between her fingers. “That was not funny. I feel terrible.”

“Please don’t. I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

“I did hear rumors, back when I was a student ... that you had a wife,” Audrey spoke haltingly.

“And I hoped the rumors were true. I mean ... I was just figuring out I was bisexual at the time, and you were so cool, so successful. You must know I idolized you. To think that you were also queer and happily married ... that gave me hope for my own future, you know?”

“Idolized, as in past tense?” Michelle didn’t know why that was the part she’d fixated on or why she kept teasing Audrey. Tonight, she had brought out a side of Michelle that she barely recognized, a more lighthearted version of herself that she hadn’t seen in years.

“It would be weird to idolize my coworker, I think,” Audrey said, seeming to regain her footing in the conversation. “I’m only just getting used to calling you Michelle.”

“You have a point.” Michelle took another sip of her whisky. The warmth in her stomach suggested she might be nearing her limit for the evening. “And I did have a wife. We’ve recently divorced.”

“Oh,” Audrey said softly. “I’m really sorry to hear that.”

Michelle wasn’t sure how to respond, only that she didn’t want to talk about Kelly right now. “Thank you. So, did you leave a significant other back in Boston?”

Audrey shook her head. “No serious relationships for me, at least not yet. I’ve been too focused on my career. My dissertation was my lover for years. I’m sure you remember how much that process takes over your life.”

“I do, and now your dedication has paid off.” She gestured around them. “Here you are, living your dream.”

“Well ...” Audrey glanced over her shoulder at the party behind them.

Somehow, Michelle hadn’t noticed how far they’d wandered from the other guests. This corner of the garden was dark and private. She tended to migrate here to have a little space for herself, but it felt different to be here with Audrey.

“The university only offered me a one-year contract to start,” Audrey said, and Michelle was glad for the darkness then because hopefully it covered her surprise.

“Really?”

Audrey nodded. “If Stuart and the other members of the hiring committee are pleased with my performance, hopefully they’ll offer me a permanent, tenure-track position at the end of this academic year, but right now, I’m still temporary.”

“I’m sorry they’ve done that to you. I know it’s gotten harder to secure a tenured position in recent years.” It was why she was still here, after all. If she didn’t fear for her ability to find a comparable position somewhere else, she would have been long gone as soon as Kelly left her.

“Yeah, so ... I’m determined to make the best impression I can, you know? I’ve got to knock their socks off, give them no choice but to keep me around.”

“I’d say you’re off to a good start. Everyone I’ve spoken to thinks you’re doing well.” Not that Michelle spoke to many people in the department. And anyway, she should probably be rooting for Audrey to fail, because then Stuart might give the Women in Art class to Michelle, to whom it belonged.

“Any tips are appreciated,” Audrey said, eyeing Michelle over her punch glass. “Like, how do I schmooze Stuart? Who else do I need to suck up to in the department if I want to get ahead? You must know all the department politics.”

“And you must know I’m the wrong person to ask.” Not because she had it out for Audrey, because she didn’t. When it came down to it, Michelle wanted Audrey to succeed, despite her resentment about the Women in Art class. “I’m probably the least popular professor in the department.”

“I know you’ve been teaching here for at least fifteen years and that you’re incredibly smart and observant,” Audrey countered. “I don’t care about other people’s opinions of you.”

Michelle swirled her whisky, debating how to respond. “First of all, you don’t schmooze Stuart. It’s Linda you need to impress. He values her opinion more than anyone else’s.”

Audrey grinned like Michelle had just given her an after-hours, all-access pass to the Louvre. “Go on.”

“But do ask him about his Norman Rockwell collection.”

Audrey’s eyes widened. “Okay.”

“He’s going to want to see your name out there on as many journal articles as possible, especially this year. You should start submitting early and often.”

Audrey gulped. “I’ve been so focused on my classes, I fell behind on my research. Thanks for the reminder.”

“Of course. Aside from that, I think you’re already doing the right things. I see you around campus, making connections. You seem well liked in the department.” More well liked than Michelle, certainly. “Actually, I do have one other suggestion, and please don’t take this the wrong way.”

Audrey gave her a cautious look. “Okay.”

“I think you should keep your eyes open for job postings at other universities and apply for anything that appeals to you. Don’t count on Northshire to come through for you with a permanent contract.

The university will always put its own needs first, and you have to do the same.

You have to put yourself first, Audrey. No one else will. ”

Audrey’s expression was difficult to discern in the darkness. “Wow, yeah, that’s ... that’s really good advice. Thank you.”

Michelle nodded.

“On a lighter note ...” Audrey sipped her drink and sat on a nearby bench, gesturing for Michelle to join her.

“Let’s talk about Tamara de Lempicka because you introduced me to her art in your class.

I saw Lempicka , the musical, when it came to Broadway, and I’ve been dying to ask if you saw it and what you thought. ”

And it was Michelle’s turn to smile, because she’d had no one to share her opinion with after she saw the musical. She sat beside Audrey. “I did, and I thought it was terrible.”

Audrey turned to face her. “I wouldn’t say terrible but certainly flat. The set was gorgeous enough, but as for the rest ... it was missing something.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”