And yet.
This was also the place where the idea that would bring Eden and I together came to be. It was hard to know how to feel about that. Sometimes it seemed so much of the beauty in life resulted from the ugly. And how did you make sense of such things? How could you be thankful for something when so much suffering was necessary to bring it to you? Or was that the very thing that defined real beauty–light after darkness? And maybe that was the whole point. If you constantly sought beauty in the most obvious places, in only the brightest of circumstances, perhaps you weren't really looking for it at all.
We stopped and asked someone for directions to the cafeteria and then made our way there. After waiting in line to purchase sandwiches, we sat at one of the tables and chatted and ate. I couldn't help but notice all the guys who kept stealing glances at Eden. I could hardly blame them. She was the prettiest girl in the cafeteria. She was the prettiest girl in Indiana, hell, the world as far as I was concerned. And she had my baby in her belly. A fierce feeling of pride swept through me and I sat up a little straighter, grinning across at her. Eden raised one delicate eyebrow.
"What's that look for?"
I took a bite of my turkey sandwich and tried not to smile as I chewed. When I'd swallowed, I said, "I just feel good, proud. I'm happy. Even here, even knowing why we came here."
Eden's eyes got soft and she reached across the table for my hand. "Me too," she said.
An older maintenance man was bringing some boxes in and when he caught my eye, his own narrowed and he looked momentarily stunned. He kept looking at me until he turned the corner out of sight. Well, that was odd. I looked back at Eden and smiled. "Ready to get going?" I asked, gathering up all our garbage.
"Should we see if we can ask someone about Thomas Greer?" Eden asked. "I mean, maybe someone knows why he left . . . or can give us some information about him?"
"It's been so long, Eden," I said as we turned out of the cafeteria. "But yeah, let's give it a shot."
She nodded. "It's a long shot, but there are probably still some professors who worked with him, you know? He wasn't that old."
"Come on. We'll walk through the building once. We'll find out where the history department is."
Eden grinned. "Okay." I couldn't help chuckle. Who would have thought she could turn an information dig on Hector into some kind of adventure? I shook my head, but pulled her toward me and kissed the top of her head. Maybe it wasn't the most pleasant of topics, but we were in charge here, not him–never him, never again. And I guessed Eden was right to pursue it, because that part of it felt powerful.
We asked directions from a guy with curly red hair, an oversized backpack and a large coffee in his hand, and then followed them to the part of the building that housed the history department. The hallways were mostly deserted. Either the history classes were scheduled for earlier in the day on Fridays or they had been cancelled for some reason. Either way, it wouldn't help our cause.
I heard footsteps behind us and when I looked back, I spotted the same maintenance man who had been looking at me strangely in the cafeteria. I stopped and so did Eden, looking curiously up at me. "What is it?" she asked.
Without answering her, I called out to the man, "Excuse me, sir?" I pulled Eden with me as I walked toward him. His eyes got wider and he looked like he was considering whether to turn around, but evidently decided not to, as he stood still waiting for us to approach him.
When we got closer, I saw he was a little older than I had originally thought with leathery and wrinkled skin, and hair that was far more white than the blond I had thought it was. He was thin and wiry and stood hunched over slightly in what I guessed was his natural stance. One of his eyes was cloudy.
"Hi," I said when we'd gotten close to him. "My name is Calder Raynes. We were hoping you might be able to answer a couple questions about someone who used to work here."
He nodded at me and glanced over at Eden quickly and then back to me. "Morris Reed," he said, his voice deep and raspy with a slight rattle behind it that told me he was probably a heavy smoker. He didn't offer us his name.
We both took a few steps closer and I could indeed smell tobacco smoke wafting off of him. "Um," Eden said, glancing at me. "No. Did you work here when a man named Thomas Greer taught Greek History?"
The man stared at her, looking slightly confused, and then turned his head and coughed, a rattling, mucous-y sound. I almost flinched, but held my expression steady until he'd turned back to us. "Yeah, I knew Tom," he said. "Or at least, knew of him, knew him in passing. We didn't associate much."