The Right Time (60 page)

“You’ve made nothing but good choices.” Hennessy was about to tear up again, but she couldn’t contain herself. Her admiration for Townsend’s dogged determination to stay sober had her emotions bubbling out of her.

“After years and years of really shitty ones,” she said, a little of her impish side showing.

“Just a couple of years,” Hennessy scoffed. “Maybe three. You’ve been sober longer than you drank. Think about that.”

She smiled, her eyes sparkling. “I didn’t do the math on that. You’re right. That’s nice to think of.”

“It should be. So what did you do after you got over your rough period?”

“I got serious about writing. I started on an MFA when I was in Provo, and next week I’m going to finish up at Emerson.”

“Are you serious? Can you put in a good word for me with the head of the English department?”

“Wish I could, but I’ve managed to skim through and never meet the guy.” Her eyebrows waggled dramatically. “I shouldn’t gloat, but I’ve got a job. A good one.”

“Goddamn it! You’re a year younger than I am. I should get a job first!”

For just a second, Townsend looked a little embarrassed. “I’m uhm…” She shook her head. “I’ll just tell you. My mom has been back to camp every year to lecture in the writing program.”

“I knew that. I read the newsletter every quarter.”

“Good. So you know that Mary Ann ran an adult section this winter.”

“I do indeed.”

“Well, I attended.” A big, old-style Townsend grin settled onto her face, making her look like a sixteen year old kid again. “This time I didn’t try to make the instructor cry or faint.”

Hennessy smiled at the memory. “One of the most…no,
the
most memorable story I’ve ever had to critique. And believe me, I’ve critiqued thousands of them.”

“Thank you, thank you. I believe in doing a good job, or not doing it at all.” She twitched her head to send her hair back over her shoulder, a habit Hennessy recognized as one she used while she organized her thoughts. “I spent most of the session letting an idea percolate, and at the end of the term I made a proposal. Mary Ann spent a few weeks thinking about it and…we’re going to expand the program permanently.”

“Expand it how? When? Why?” Shaking her head, Hennessy laughed at her own rapid-fire interrogation. “Maybe I’d learn more if I shut my mouth and let you talk.”

Townsend tasted the sauce once again, leaning over the stove to breathe in the spicy scent. She stood and turned the heat all the way down, then moved over to stand next to Hennessy. “I pointed out that the winter program could easily run every year.”

“I agree completely! People were crazy about the program. There were so many positive comments in the newsletter there was almost no room for info about the summer program.”

“Right. Mary Ann worked her butt off to get it going, so she knows it’s more than a full time job.”

“It’s definitely a full time job. Even a month-long program is hard to organize and staff.”

She made a dismissive gesture. “Make no small plans. Nine months. Sessions running from one to three weeks.”

“Wow! You’ll be the what…assistant camp director?”

“Nope.” Townsend shook her head and twitched an eyebrow. “I’ll be the director of the writing program for adults, and Mary Ann will continue to run the summer camp, her true love.”

Hennessy’s blood started to pump faster, feeling like she’d gotten a burst of adrenaline. “That’s amazing! You’ll be so good at that!”

“I think I will. I’m ready to dig my teeth into something, and this really excites me.”

“And you’d like being in South Carolina? Not that any sane person wouldn’t.”

“You don’t have to sell me. I’ve already bought the ticket.” She reached over and patted Hennessy’s cheek. “I love it. I love the weather, the pace, the way people talk, the food. It’s just right for me.”

“I haven’t heard anything this exciting in years! Where will you live? In the compound?”

Townsend blushed slightly. “Well, I hate to act like I’m too good to live in the compound…”

“Multi-million dollar home on the eighteenth green of Harbor Town?”

Flashing a playful scowl, Townsend said, “I think that would be a little ostentatious, even for me. A small house outside of a development would be ideal. I just need two bedrooms and an office.”

Hennessy nodded, her smile growing brighter. “More details, please. I need to know everything.”

“Well, one of the best things is that I’ll have the entire summer off because regular camp will continue on as usual. Even better, Mary Ann doesn’t care what kind of schedule I set for myself, so it’ll be super flexible.”

“Damn, Townsend, that’s a dream job!”

“I couldn’t have come up with a better job if I designed it myself.” She giggled. “Oh, that’s right. I did!”

“How’s she going to pay you, if that’s not too personal a question.”

“It’s a little late to start keeping secrets now. She’s going to pay me a salary that’s below the market standard—mainly because I’m young and inexperienced and she knows she can get away with it—”

Hennessy interrupted. “You’ll never hear me say a bad word about MaryAnn, but she truly knows how to make a dollar beg for mercy.”

“All true. So I put the screws to her and made her sweeten the offer by giving me seven and a half percent of the tuition for each student—off the top. And a bonus for returning students.”

“Is that going to be enough money for you?”

“If I do well it is,” Townsend said, a knowing gleam in her eyes. “Fifteen cottages, each sleeping four—”

“No, eight,” Hennessy interrupted. “There’s four bedrooms in each cabin.”

“People don’t want to pay top dollar to share a room, girl! So that’s sixty beds. If I can have those beds seventy-five percent filled for all of the sessions for nine months—I’ll be great.”

“Are you sure about this? I mean, the last thing I want to do is dissuade you, but have you really thought the numbers through?”

Townsend rolled her eyes. “I have, my accountant has, and my grandfather has. He used to run a pretty big investment management firm you know.”

“I didn’t know,” Hennessy admitted. “You never talked about your grandparents much.”

Her hand rose and she made a dismissive flick with it. “I was a jerk when I was a kid. I took my grandparents for granted, never noticing what lovely, supportive people they are. My grandmother’s going with me to help me find a rental house.”

Hennessy set her elbows on the counter and leaned onto it, so stunned she had a hard time keeping up. “This is all such great news. I’m…”

“You’re amazed,” Townsend said, slapping her on the back. “But you shouldn’t be. This is going to work because of the quality of the teachers. It’s my Mom’s contacts that will pull those writers in—at least at first. So that’s what Mary Ann’s buying, more than my skills.”

Bubbling with enthusiasm, Hennessy said, “That’s utterly fantastic. And I’m so happy you’re working with your mom.”

“Now that she’s sober…” Her eyes opened wide. “Have you heard about her book?”

She hadn’t expected that question, but she told the truth. “I bought it the day it came out.” At first, she’d been indignant that Townsend had never mentioned her mother’s pill addiction. But after stewing about it for a while her opinion changed completely. Even at her worst, Townsend had respected her mother’s privacy. That was remarkably thoughtful of her. Now that thoughtful, supportive woman was right in front of her. The place she should have always been. Unable to resist, Hennessy stuck her arm out and wrapped it around her waist, pulling her close. That was a mistake. Smelling her clean, fresh, floral scent brought back old longings she’d been sure she’d extinguished. Demanding that her body stop screwing with her, she focused on the message she wanted to deliver. “If my momma had written a book like that, and dedicated it to me, I could die happy.”

Clearly fighting her emotions, Townsend pulled away and walked over to the living area, swiping a couple of tissues and stopping to blot her eyes. “Working with her on that book was the highlight of my life.” She let out a laugh that made her sound surprised. “We’re honestly friends now. We respect each other.”

“Best news I’ve had in a very long time,” Hennessy said, her voice shaking with emotion.

“It’s been a good year.” Townsend walked back over to the stove and turned off the heat. “Well, except for having my heart broken. But you can’t have everything.” She grasped her hair in a hand and tossed it over her shoulder. “I’m going to miss my mom when I move.”

“Wait…what about the woman you’re dating?”

A sly smile settled onto her face. The mystery woman was a goner if Townsend flashed that baby at her very often. “Well, since she’s a writing teacher, I’m going to tempt her to come down and teach a course. Preferably one of the master’s classes. If she spends three weeks on Hilton Head, she’ll love it.” She flicked a hand in the air and scoffed, “Who wouldn’t?”

“That’s what I always say. Once you’ve been bitten by the Palmetto bug…”

“Does Kate love it?”

Hennessy got up, walked over to the cooktop, took the tea kettle, and filled it with water. “Love? No, that’s not the word I’d use. Of course, we haven’t spent much time there. She only gets two weeks of vacation, and she naturally wants to see her family or do something fun.”

Townsend raised an eyebrow. “Visiting
your
family isn’t fun?”

Leaning against the counter, Hennessy crossed her arms over her chest. “No, it’s not. Gramma’s tepid on her at best, and Kate’s not much warmer.”

Taking a pointed look at her left hand, Townsend said. “I don’t see a ring on that finger. I thought you’d be long married by now.”

Hennessy extended her hand, gazing at her unadorned finger. Damn, she should have had an excuse all ready to go. Townsend wasn’t the first to ask. “We haven’t gotten around to it. I guess I haven’t been motivated.”

“Motivated?” Townsend pulled out a cutting board and placed a loaf of French bread on it. As she opened a drawer and pulled out a knife she said, “That’s a strange choice of words.”

Hennessy could only manage a shrug. “I’m not sure why we haven’t done it. Maybe we’ll consider it after Kate’s fellowship is over.”

Townsend expertly slid the knife along the loaf, then lined the slices up on a small plate, and finally turned to give Hennessy what could only be described as a doubtful look. But she didn’t add a word. Instead, she poked a fork into the pot, fished out a strand of spaghetti and bit into it. “Al dente. Let’s rock.”

Hennessy stood at the sink, cleaning the kitchen while Townsend sat on the counter, swinging her feet back and forth. “Even though I’m manic about cleaning, having someone do it for me is kinda nice.”

“I’ve heard tell,” Hennessy admitted good-naturedly. “Not that I can say for myself.”

“Kate doesn’t clean?”

“Oh, she would, but I don’t give her the chance. She works at least eighty hours a week. Now that I’m finished with my degree, all I have to do is keep the house nice.”

Townsend let out a short laugh. “Knowing you, you’ll work more hours than she does once you start a job. How many offers have you had?”

“A couple.” She shrugged, embarrassed about her good fortune. “A few. But none in Boston. I’m tempted to take the offer from USC, but that presents its own set of problems.”

“LA might be great!”

Scowling, Hennessy said, “The
real
USC. The University of South Carolina.”

“Why’s that bad?”

“One—Kate doesn’t want to live in South Carolina. And two—it’s just an adjunct position. I’d teach two or three classes each term and make a few thousand dollars for each one. No benefits. And probably no opportunity to get onto the tenure track.”

“Couldn’t you get an adjunct job in Boston?”

Hennessy shrugged. “I suppose.” Her mood began to deflate as it did each time she forced herself to sit down and think about her professional prospects. “But I’d probably try for a fellowship rather than do that. I also don’t think I’d have much trouble getting a visiting professor slot at a local university, but…”

“Visiting from where?”

Hennessy let out a bitter laugh. “Perfect question. Visiting from nowhere. That’s academia’s way of giving you a little status. It looks better than calling you an adjunct, and it pays better. But it’s not a permanent job. Usually just a one year contract.”

“That’s better than nothing right?” Townsend’s probing look felt like it went right through her. She really wanted to know the truth, so Hennessy dropped the dishtowel and pulled out a stool.

“I could barely stand being a teaching assistant. I want to make use of my degree, but I’m not a born English professor.”

“What in the hell does that mean?”

Hennessy worked the question over in her head for a moment. She’d spent so much time thinking about it, but she wasn’t great at expressing her reservations. “I think great professors love to have the stage. The ones I remember were natural performers. I’m not like that. I do much better with a small group or a seminar.”

“Universities have lots of seminars, don’t they?”

She wasn’t making her point. Frustrated, Hennessy got up and found some gentle cleaner for the sink, then started to give it a good working over. “Seminars are for upperclassmen and grad students for the most part. I’ll be stuck teaching huge survey courses for years. Years,” she stressed, scrubbing harder when she thought of being in front of two hundred students, most of them bored to death.