Page 50 of Tempted Hearts
Juliette moved back, just out of my reach, tucking her legs under her on the seat. A cross-legged sea nymph… her mischievous smile perfectly in balance with the rest of her.
“I was thinking that it won’t be easy to head back to the city after this.”
She took a sip of Prosecco, thoughtful. “You don’t love it there.”
“No.” My answer was automatic. “But it would’ve been hard to pass up a tenured-track position at Columbia. Those aren’t easy to come by. I was lucky to get the offer, close enough to Cedar Falls that I could drive home periodically.”
“Funny, you call it home still.”
“To me, it still is. We moved out when I was twelve when my dad got his job at Yale. My parents still live in New Haven, but Cedar Falls is…”
“I get it. There are so many incredible places in the world, and I do want to travel and see things.” She waved her free hand toward the coast. “This. But I’ll always have a home there.”
I shivered, though not because it was cold.
“I love it there too,” I admitted.
“Then come back,” she said, as if it was the easiest thing in the world. “I assume you applied at Cornell?”
“I did. Talked to the department chair who said their history department was stable, with no potential openings in the near future.”
“Ithaca? Syracuse? Or your alma mater?”
This is where it got complicated. Where I’d usually say something to steer the conversation to another topic.
But Juliette had racked up points for a reason. And I… wanted to tell her. At least some of it.
“My alma mater…” I started, remembering the day I’d committed to paying my own way, despite the fact that my parents had a college fund for both my sister and me. Having decided, and telling them over dinner one night, I was going to the University of Rochester, and not Yale… it was a fight from hell. And in my family, that was saying something. “… was an issue, for my dad. He still hasn’t forgiven me for going to U of R over Yale.”
“That’s where he teaches?”
“Yep. I’m not sorry I did it, but looking back, choosing a college because your buddies were going there… maybe not the best idea.”
“Do you regret it?”
“Hell no. And in the end, it didn’t matter. I got into the PhD program at Yale which opened the door for Columbia.”
She glanced at the open bottle of Prosecco on the table. I stood, grabbed it, and refilled us both.
“Your goal was to teach at an Ivy League university?”
I hesitated. And then shared the truth. “My father’s goal was for me to teach at an Ivy League university, like him. Maybe even move into his spot as department chair at Yale when he retires.”
“No pressure,” she teased.
“Tell me about it.”
She waited, expecting more.
There was a hell of a lot more, but we wouldn’t be going there. Not today.
Not ever.
“Scusate, ragazzi, è tempo di andare. We should get moving.”
Saved by Captain Marco.
On the way back, there was no more talk of my father, thankfully. When we docked, and said goodbye to Marco, thanking him for a perfect day, Juliette took the hand I held out to assist her and stepped off the boat.
