Just Let Me Die Here (A Serialized Novel) 3

I make it to campus just in time for my meeting. Sasha, the department secretary, is ready with the papers I asked her to prepare and a cup of coffee. Sasha definitely brightens up an otherwise drab, academically beige office. She has a big personality only further heightened by her big hair and bright wardrobe. If you saw her walking down the street, you would never guess she works as a secretary, at a university none the less, but she does. And she’s the best one on campus.

“Good morning, Dr. Logan.” She smiles as I enter the office, the glitter in her bright pink lipstick sparkling under the florescent lights. I look over and see the dean just entering his office. Sasha only calls me Dr. Logan when anyone else from the university is around. Women’s empowerment, she calls it. “You earned that degree,” she once told me. “You use that title!”

Sasha is the only other woman in the department and so, over the years, we have bonded. I would say that we are friends, but we never spend any time together outside of work aside from the occasional lunch at the campus dining hall or a local cafe if we are feeling a bit less frugal. But, I guess, yes, a friend. I do share more with her about my personal life than anyone else here. But that’s not saying much. I like to keep work and home separate. But Sasha and I do talk about our lives outside of work. I know all about her wife, Blake, and she knows all about Tucker. We even ended up getting pregnant right around the same time, Adam being born just three months before Millie, so we got to share that experience as well. She also keeps me up to date on all the campus gossip. Apparently, the department secretaries do spend a good amount of time together outside of work.

“Good morning, Sasha. And thank you,” I say, taking the papers in one hand and coffee in the other. I take a big sip and it’s just as I thought it would be. Awful. Most likely just warmed up remnants from yesterday’s brew. But I’ll take whatever I can get at this point. “Has that guy from the foundation returned my call?” I ask as she settles back into her seat. She runs her hands across the lap of her neon green and yellow striped skirt to flatten it under the desk.

“Nope,” she says, giving me a frown to show that she is as invested in my push for this grant as I am. “But I’ll let you know as soon as he does.”

“Thank you.” We need this money. Two of my proposed projects for the coming year cannot happen without it. I take another swing of coffee and head in to the dean’s office for a morning of dry, bureaucratic conversation. All of which could have been handled with an email.

After the meeting, I am the last one to leave the office. Sasha returns just as I am about to go, a take-out bag clutched in her hand.

“August, hi. How was it?” she says, nodding toward the door I’ve just exited.

“Oh, you know. Exciting as ever. Just clearing things up for next semester. How are you?”

“Good, good. Just getting ready for the holidays. Mom’s coming to town next week and Blake is freaking out about everything needing to be perfect. So, just the usual. And you? Any big plans?”

“Good. Yes, actually. Tucker, Millie, and I are going on a vacation.”

“That’s awesome,” she says, settling back down at her desk. “Since we had Adam, I can’t even get Blake to go on a day trip to the beach, let alone a full vacation. Where are you going?”

“Canada,” I say.

“Ouch! Cold. When you said vacation, I had images of umbrellas in the sand and in the drinks.”

“No, it will be great. I haven’t skied since before I got pregnant. I can’t wait.”

“Right, I forgot you were one of the weird ones that favors the frozen tundra of the arctic to a warm tropical island.”

“That’s me.” I strike a huge grin and collect up my things. “Have a great rest of your day.”

“You too. And if I don’t see you before break, Merry Christmas, and have a great trip!”

I spend the next five hours in my office. I am so excited about the course I am planning for the coming semester. The History of Sport. It is a bit removed from my area of academic focus, but completely based in personal interest. And it took a lot of my convincing the department chair to get it going too. I really tried to hone in on the idea that it would bring a more diverse student group to our department, something we desperately need in a time when the numbers of history majors are dwindling. I figured this class could get students who were interested in sports interested in history in general. And if goes well, it could mean big things for my career. All those years of hard work will finally be paying off.

The idea for the course came to me nearly two years ago. I had woken Tucker in the middle of the night to tell him all about it. He wasn’t thrilled with being awake at three in the morning, but he was more than happy to listen to me eagerly carry on. He has always been so supportive of my work and my teaching. He says he loves how passionate I am about this stuff. I look at the framed picture of him on my desk and smile. What would I do without him?

I had just started to plan out the class when I got pregnant with Millie, and so I had to put those plans on hold. But now I am very excited to get right back into it. This coming semester will be the first time we offer the course, and there is already a waiting list. It’s a lot of pressure, but I love it. I am ready.

As I’m leaving my office, my phone buzzes with a text from Sasha.

‘Merry Christmas, Doctor! We got the grant!!’

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