"Nice blouse," Rose said to Vangie, the division secretary, as she entered the department office just before five. Vangie, dressed as usual like a Yoruba princess, accepted the compliment with a self-confident toss of her long, beaded braids.
"Nice haircut," she replied in kind.
"Mm," said Rose, still sounding distracted. "I’m off for the summer. Here are my grades. No, wait. There’s one more paper that’s supposed to be here for me. Have you...?"
Vangie didn’t wait for the end of the sentence to whip a neatly-bound paper up from the corner of the desk and into Rose’s outstretched hand.
"Dave Casey left this for you an hour ago," she reported, her eyes turned up in knowing amusement. "It’s okay," she continued as Rose shot a nervous glance around the office, "he’s gone."
"Good. I mean thanks," said Rose. Whatever Vangie got paid, she thought, it was clearly not adequate reward for her perspicacity. Such was the casual wisdom of experience, which Rose hoped would make her second year as adjunct professor a little less emotionally straining than her first.
Vangie handed her what felt like at least twenty typed pages of term paper. Okay, he’d aced every assignment all term. As far as Rose was concerned, anything he did at this point would earn him top marks.
She ticked off an ‘A’ next to David Casey’s name and handed in her grade sheets. A strong aroma reached her nostrils as she leaned over Vangie’s desk and she noticed the fat bouquet of roses propped up in Vangie’s coffee can pencil holder. The tight little blooms were cream-colored, tipped with peach.
"Pretty flowers, Vangie," smiled Rose. "From a beau, or is Byron making up for missing Secretary’s Day?"
"Oh, no, Rose," replied Vangie, her almond eyes holding the barest hint of humor as she pushed the coffee can forward. "They’re for you. Dave Casey left them when he brought in the paper."
Rose thought for a moment. That kid. It wasn’t really a bribe. Still, she didn’t like it. But, she argued with herself, at least they’re not red. She stuffed the bouquet into her shoulder bag.
"Thanks. I’m outta here," she smiled weakly, and bolted for the door.
•
The wonderful smell smacked Rose in the nose as she opened the front door.
"Niall!" she called down the long hall. "What the heck are you cooking?" She raised her voice to be heard over the stereo in the front room, blasting some furious Irish reel or other back toward the kitchen.
Niall Sweeney appeared in the kitchen doorway, blue shirtsleeves rolled up and a small paper carton in each hand.
"Come on in," he said. "Hope you’re hungry."
Rose sidestepped a rake, a hoe, and a pair of gloves in a plastic bucket, arranged against the wall just inside the door. She wandered down the hall and plopped her bag and papers on the table, still brandishing the bouquet of roses. Niall gave her a furry peck on the lips and scrunched up his sandy mustache in a proud smile.
"Thai banquet à la Sweeney!" he announced, indicating a clutter of white cardboard containers and little plastic tubs of sauce. "I thought we’d celebrate the end of the spring term with some very hot food followed by some very cold beer at the pub followed by... who knows what?" His cornflower blue eyes sparkled as he waggled a single eyebrow.
"So what’s with the gardening tools?" asked Rose, cocking a thumb back toward the front door.
"Oh, right," replied Sweeney. "I brought them up from the basement to remind myself to weed the back garden. Sorry. You didn’t trip over them, did you?"
"No, but please put them back before somebody does cream himself."
"I’ll do it over the weekend," he replied jauntily, then noticed the flowers Rose dangled in one hand. "For me?" he asked. "Aw, you shouldn’t have. This is my party."
"Yep, they’re all yours," replied Rose, handing over the roses and feeling slightly relieved. Sweeney stood them up in a Pyrex measuring cup and went on with his dinner assembly.
"Something to sniff at wistfully while I’m out of town," Rose continued, sitting down. "A lingering scent to remember me by."
Sweeney frowned gently. "Now, none of that. Not tonight. We only have a couple of evenings together and I don’t want to think about not having you around while... well, while I have you around. I tried to take a day off tomorrow and you would not believe the song and dance I got from the boss. To hear him tell it, the world will end if we don’t finish the database cross-checks for all the vitamin supplements they’ll be offering on-line by next week. I mean, Hot Button Health hasn’t even finished the warehouse or powered up the testing lab, so how the hell do they expect to offer anything to anybody yet?"
