Stork Raving Mad(16)

Michael’s face took on the anxious look he always got at the thought of me going into labor.

“And that’s fine,” I reminded him. “Remember, the kids are big and healthy and nearly full term, and at my last appointment, Dr. Waldron said if they came anytime from then on it would be just fine. Though obviously it would be better if Gin and Tonic delayed their arrival until the current crisis is over.”

Michael took a deep breath.

“Sorry,” he said. “When the time comes, I will do my best not to behave like a stereotypical new father. And I shouldn’t be putting you under this much pressure right now.”

“You’re not, the prunes are,” I said. “And remember, a problem shared is a problem halved. Many hands make light work and all that nonsense. So, one plan coming up.”

I pulled out my notebook-that-tells-me-when-to-breathe, the worn notebook that serves me as a combination to-do list and address book. I started a new page and held my pen poised to begin making notes. Michael smiled, as if he found the appearance of the notebook as reassuring as I did, and took a comfortable position leaning against the pantry counter.

“So what kind of records do they keep in the English department about dissertations?” I asked. “Would Ramon’s proposal be on file there after it was signed, sealed, and approved?”

Michael’s smile disappeared.

“If he turned it in. He told me he did, but maybe I shouldn’t have taken his word for it. From now on—”

“From now on, you don’t trust your students on anything. They’re drama students, not bureaucrats. And frankly, that kind of nitpicking isn’t your forte, either, so why don’t you get someone who is good at organization to come up with a system to do it for all the drama students and professors?”

“Kathy Borgstrom,” he said. “She loves doing stuff like that, thank God.”

And Dr. Wright didn’t seem to like Kathy. Was that really because Kathy had no official position, or had Kathy managed to turn in papers the prunes would rather have seen lost?

“That’s good,” I said, scribbling a couple of items in my notebook. “But right now, we’ve got to find Ramon’s paperwork. Maybe it’s in the files and maybe it’s somewhere in his frozen room.”

“And maybe it’s in a landfill somewhere.” Michael sounded discouraged.

“Think positively,” I said. “I assume we can consider Kathy an ally?”

“Absolutely,” he said. “She’s militantly in the camp that thinks drama should be a separate department.”

“Let’s get her to see if the paperwork’s on file in the English department.”

“Excellent idea,” Michael said. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and began pushing numbers. “Kathy? Michael Waterston. We’ve got a problem here.”

While Michael explained what was going on, I scribbled a few more notes.

“Make sure she doesn’t let the prunes know what she’s up to,” I called over to Michael. “Or anyone else on the English department side of the rift.”

“She already said the same thing,” Michael said. “And she says she’s worried that they may already have gotten to the files.”

“You mean she thinks they might deliberately destroy Ramon’s paperwork if they got hold of it?”

“Kathy wouldn’t put it past them.”

“Trolls,” I muttered. “Can I talk to Kathy a sec?”

Michael handed the cell phone over.

“Hey, how are the babies?” she asked.

“As eager as I am to protect their daddy’s student,” I said. “Not to mention their daddy’s hopes of tenure. They start kicking the second they see the prunes. I mean, Dr. Blanco and Dr. Wright.”

“Prunes is better,” she said. “What can I do for you?”

I peered down at my notebook, and Michael shifted his position so he could see over my shoulder. I pushed the speaker button so he could hear too.

“Is there someplace outside the English department where the paperwork on dissertations would be kept?” I asked.

“Someplace the prunes can’t get at? Not until the department approves them.”

“So if someone doesn’t make the grade, only the English department has that person’s files?”

“Well, I have my files,” she said. “But no one considers them official. There’s no official record outside the department until after they’re approved.”

I heard Michael mutter a couple of words I hoped he’d stop using once the twins arrived.

“But the college has some central record of people who get doctorates?” I asked.