Package Deal(42)

In idle wishes fools supinely stay;

Be there a will, and wisdom finds a way.

The students’ comments forced Amanda to ask herself what she wanted as she walked back to her office. Was she wishing for wisdom, too, and the will to make a decision—about herself, Marcus, and their relationship?





Chapter 8



No one came to the office on Sundays. The late April shower meant few students were walking on campus, lending additional quiet to Carlton’s surroundings, which he needed, which he preferred. No one around to ask questions he didn’t want to answer. He opened the office door and stepped on a paper. He picked it up, but didn’t recognize the student’s name.

He had been using the office daily, even at times when it should have been Amanda’s, as he worked on the final draft of his dissertation. He felt vaguely guilty about hogging the office, but the time taken to prepare for and teach his classes had eaten into his writing hours, and the time he spent in the library hadn’t helped. If he could just concentrate on the last chapter of his dissertation, he could send it in—ten weeks late, but at least it would be off his desk.Maybe that would get Hillier off his back. His advisor, too.

He squinted at the name on the paper. “Must be one of Amanda’s,” he muttered under his breath.He’d have to mend fences with her so she wouldn’t go whining to Greg again.

Thinking of Amanda brought Cecelia to mind. He began to sweat. He knew he shouldn’t be attracted to the little girl, but children were so much less demanding, easier to control than the women he’d tried to date. He’d forced himself to stay in the library on days when he knew the girls on Cecelia’s soccer team were practicing or having a game. Their field was between the library and his department office. He couldn’t help it that they were there, tempting him as they ran and jumped, when he walked between the buildings. The girl with the red hair had caught his eye, but he was afraid to approach her. Cecelia had said her father was the coach, a big man whose size intimidated him.He sat back in the chair and slid his hand down the front of his jeans, recalling the other children who had let him play with them, especially the ones with blue eyes. He’d always liked them the best.

Then there was that dark-eyed one at the lake one summer. If only she hadn’t pulled away when he got close, like Cecelia had that one day in the office. He suspected she didn’t trust him—not yet anyway. But he didn’t think she had talked to her mother about him. He suspected Amanda would have said something to him if she knew what he’d done. He just wanted to get close to Cecelia, to get her to like him more, like that other little girl. She had been wary at first, too, but his interest in her playhouse had won her over. He wondered if Cecelia had a playhouse. She’d never said and he’d never had a reason to go to her house.

He shook his head. “Focus. I’ve got to focus,” he said out loud, as if that would help him concentrate. He looked around the office, messy with haphazard stacks of papers on the desk and along the windowsill. Maybe he would take the thesis manuscript home, do his final editing there. He usually felt better after petting the skinny kitten he had found in the street and taken home to feed. She always purred loudly when he stroked her. Why couldn’t little girls be like kittens, letting him pet them, liking it when he touched them? That’s what he would do—give Amanda the paper and then go home to finish his work, while the kitten purred on his lap.

If I drop this off at her house, maybe she’ll get off my case until I’m done with everything. I can’t have Greg talking to my advisor again.He made a halfhearted effort to stack the ungraded bluebooks on the windowsill. Then he shoved the student’s paper under his arm and drove to Amanda’s house. There was no place to park. He circled the block twice. Frustrated, he drove into the alley and parked in an empty space belonging to one of the apartment houses. He wouldn’t be there long.



“Sweetheart. I had no idea we were out of milk. Marcus should be here any minute. I’m going to run down to the corner store. Will you be okay while I’m gone?”

Cecelia nodded, barely looking up from the book she was reading.

“I’ll be right back. Tell Marcus the two of you can’t leave until I get back.”

“Okay, Mom.” She turned back to her book. Several minutes later, the doorbell rang and she trotted downstairs. “I’m coming, Marcus. Now we can go shopping, to surprise Mom for her birthday.”

She stopped smiling when she opened the door.

“Oh. It’s you,” she said, under her breath, and began to shut the door.