A Skeleton in the Family Read Online Free Page A

downside?”
    â€œOh, she’s a fine scholar, I’m sure, but she can be a tad . . . inquisitive.”
    â€œI can deal.” I’d had nosy office-mates before.
    â€œThen let me introduce you.” Charles walked me over and said, “Dr. Weiss, may I introduce Dr. Thackery?”
    â€œHi,” she said, looking me over. “What department?”
    â€œEnglish. And you?”
    â€œBiology.”
    Not only did Sara have a plum desk location, she even had a hook on which to hang her coat. Her desk wasn’t bad, either.
    â€œYou’ve been here awhile,” I guessed.
    â€œSix years. How many classes did they give you?”
    â€œFive.”
    â€œThe usual.”
    Charles said, “Let me trade chairs for you.” He rolled away the lopsided one that had been behind my desk.
    â€œYou hooked up with Charley pretty quick,” Sara said, making it sound distasteful.
    â€œCharles and I go way back. I think this is the third time we’ve been at the same school. No, the fourth.”
    â€œIs it true that he’s rich and only teaches for fun?”
    â€œThat’s the rumor.” It wasn’t true, but I’d never bothered to enlighten anybody with the real story.
    â€œHe must be rich,” she said. “Look at how he dresses, how he acts. And his car! He’s taking the bread out of the mouths of people who need it.”
    â€œHe’s an excellent teacher, and he does the work,” I said. “Why shouldn’t he get paid for it? It’s not like any of us get paid all that much anyway.”
    â€œShe speaks the truth!” said a scrawny specimen with hipster glasses who was passing by. “New hire?”
    â€œGeorgia Thackery, English.”
    â€œBob Hewitt, Español.”
    â€œBuenos días.”
    â€œNot even a little bueno. I’ve got to give an oral test to twenty of the worst linguists I’ve ever encountered. Welcome aboard, and here’s hoping you escape soon.”
    â€œBob is having a bad week,” Charles said diplomatically after the other man scurried away. He’d returned with a chair that looked a lot more comfortable than the previous one, and a label on which he’d already written my name in beautiful cursive. I was willing to bet he’d used a fountain pen, too. “I’ll affix this to a mailbox while you settle in. I would very much enjoy catching up with you further, but I have to attend to some test papers. How about lunch on Thursday?”
    â€œThat sounds great.”
    He went out long enough to put the sticker on for me, then proceeded to his desk, nodding amiably at everybody he passed.
    I looked over my new desk. On top were a stack of composition books, a bunch of papers, and three empty Starbucks cups.
    â€œExcuse me, but do these things belong to anybody?” I said to the room at large.
    Nobody answered, and Sara was looking at her computer screen with exaggerated concentration.
    â€œDoes anybody know who this stuff belongs to?” I said more loudly.
    Still no response.
    â€œOkay.” I grabbed the comp books and papers and carried them outside to leave next to the mailboxes. The coffee cups I tossed in the nearest trash can.
    Then I looked through the desk drawers. All of the useful supplies were long gone, of course, but I did find that my file drawer was half-filled with stuffed hanging folders. “Does anybody know—?” I started to say.
    Sara said, “Those are mine. I’m short on file room. You don’t mind if I leave them there, do you?”
    â€œSorry, but I need the space,” I said, trying to sound sympathetic even though I wasn’t. If Sara had been an adjunct for six years, then she knew darned well it wasn’t acceptable to poach on other people’s desk space. Shared offices get territorial, and I’d long since learned that it was best to lift my leg and lay claim to my territory right