“Then you have to know both math and social studies. Get to it, kid, or I won’t tell the editor to hire you.” He clapped his hands for emphasis before turning to look up at Amanda. “I need to go, so you can get back to whatever you were going to do after dinner.”
“Grade papers and plan for tomorrow.” She walked him to the door, reluctant to see him go, wishing he would stay longer in spite of the work that was waiting for her.
He pulled her outside and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. “Are you into fresh fish? A new restaurant opened at the marina. As a flatlander, you deserve to be introduced to Pacific Ocean seafood, the good kind. Will you have dinner with me Friday?”
“That would be lovely. When should I be ready for this introduction?”
“How about seven-thirty? The lights will be on around the marina by then.” He looked like he was about to say more when Cecelia came out on the porch.
“I’m done with my homework.”
“Good for you. Show it to your mom so you can get back to reading Sea Star.” He turned back to Amanda. “I’ll see you at seven-thirty.”
“Thanks again for the ride, Marcus. You made Cecelia’s day.”And mine.
Marcus beamed at her and waved. “Thank you for the dinner.”
“Do I have to wait in your office again?” Cecelia walked with her mom toward her classroom the next morning.
“Yes, you do. I have an important meeting, and I don’t want you going home by yourself in the dark. You can read your books or do your homework while you’re waiting.”
Cecelia sighed. “Will that man be in your office?”
“No. He should be at the same meeting I’m going to. I know you don’t like him, hon, but I won’t be long. You have a book to read, right?”
“Yes.” Cecelia sighed again. “Can I have a snack while I’m waiting?”
“Yes. Promise you won’t spill, especially on any of Carlton’s things.”
“I promise.”
After school, Cecelia walked across the field separating the Campus School from her mother’s building. She entered the departmental office and waved at Beatrice, who smiled at her.Cecelia sat down in the big swivel chair and was nibbling one of the cookies her mother had left for her when Professor Icky—her private name for him—walked in. He pointed to the smaller chair.
Cecelia slid out of the big chair and sat in the other one.
He handed her the bottle of juice next to his desktop and leaned over her, stopping to pop her other cookie into his mouth.
“That was my cookie.”
“If you had one already, it was time to share. It was good, too.” He started to type, stopped, then turned his head and stared at her. “What brings you to my office today?”
“It’s my mom’s office.” She decided to stare back at him. “She’s in a meeting. Aren’t you supposed to be there, too? She said you would.”
“You’re a nosy one. Do you like to type?”
She nodded. “I don’t know how yet—especially on a big machine like yours. I’m still learning where all the letters are—so I don’t have to look.”
“If you want to sit on my lap, I’ll show you.”
She shook her head then craned her neck to look at the computer as his fingers raced over the keys. She climbed out of the chair. “Maybe if I stand next to you, I could watch, and you could show me? I’ve always wanted to see how it works.”
“Come on over here, then. You’ll have to get closer if you want to reach the keys.”
She sidled over to him, her interest in the computer overcoming her distaste for the man.
He moved his chair back from the desk and pulled her between his knees. “You do it like this.” He placed her fingers on the keys, then his hands slithered up her arms and onto her shoulders. “Now, press down on the key that says enter,” he instructed.
When she did, the cursor bounced across the screen. “Oh!” Her heart raced when so many letters leapt onto the screen as she pressed the keys.
“Be careful now,” he cautioned. He erased the letters she had made.
“Let me do that again.” She smiled. “Can I write a letter to my mom?”
“Yes. Just touch the keys lightly, one finger at a time, or you’ll make more letters than you want.”
The man left his hands on her shoulders as she experimented with the letters that jumped so fast onto the screen.While she touched the keyboard, she hardly noticed that he continued to rub his hands up and down her arms. When she had almost completed a sentence in her letter, he leaned forward so that his chest was pressing against her back, moved his head closer to hers, and blew into her ear.