Becca's Baby

Besides, the earlier his meetings, the sooner he could get out of the house and away from Becca. He’d had to leave before she awoke that morning or risk saying something he’d not only regret, but knew would make this day even more difficult for both of them.

He needed to get out of his house and not think about what today meant. He’d been a father for a brief agonizing week. What a cruel twist of fate.

He couldn’t believe Becca was doing this to them. He’d tried to put himself in her position, to understand the feelings she was experiencing. So far he’d failed.

Shaking hands with him, Todd slid his bulk into the bench across the booth from Will. Todd had played football in high school and still worked out a couple of times a week.

“How’s Martha?” Will asked, perusing the menu even though he always ordered exactly the same thing when he came to the Valley Diner for breakfast.

“Good. Busy with the kids. Ellen’s going to her first dance next weekend, and Martha’s sewing her a nice dress.”

Will nodded. He was used to all the references his friends made to their kids, the peek at a life he’d wanted but wasn’t destined, apparently, to have. This morning he felt more of a pang than usual. Might his child have been a little girl? A girl who’d be attending her first dance fifteen years from now?

“I hear Becca’s having some problems with Mayor Smith.” Todd resumed the conversation after they’d each given their orders for huevos rancheros and toast to the college student who’d come to wait on them.

“You know Becca,” Will replied, taking a strange comfort in being able to say that—at least about some parts of her life. “She’s already found a couple of other possible sources for funding.”

“Damn good thing,” Todd said. “A bunch of us plan to take up a collection ourselves, if something else doesn’t come through.” Todd sipped his coffee, pursing his lips in the funny way he’d been doing since the two of them had been college roommates right there at Montford. Back in those days they’d both been forced to turn to coffee for the caffeine boost it gave them. “The Save the Youth program can’t get up and running soon enough to suit me, I’ll tell ya. Having a teenager—or being a teenager—isn’t the piece of cake it was when we were young.”

Will smiled, remembering the pranks they’d all pulled as teenagers. He had a feeling it hadn’t been a piece of cake thirty years ago, either. But it was true that the temptations kids faced today were much more dangerous than the back seat of a car or a lake made for skinny-dipping. Hell, Shelter Valley had been dry back then. They hadn’t even had the occasional beer to experiment with.

Breakfast came and went, and Will still hadn’t broached the subject of his meeting with Todd. He’d handled many delicate situations during his tenure as president of Montford University, but couldn’t remember encountering one quite this awkward.

Nor one he felt so unprepared to handle. If it turned out that Todd was guilty of a serious ethical breach—involving a student—Will didn’t want to know. Not today.

“So, you got any promising students this term?” He decided to take the outside-in approach. A noted professor of psychology, Todd Moore was well-known for a couple of startling articles he’d written on the genius within. Todd believed that there were many more highly intelligent people in the world than anyone knew. He claimed that socially learned behaviors taught kids at a very early age to camouflage their abilities in order to fit in. The studies he’d done over the years, the statistics he’d compiled, were pretty conclusive.

But right now, Todd had just declined a refill on his coffee. Will didn’t have much time left.

“Sure,” Todd said in answer to Will’s question.

“With our market-driven enrollment, how could I not have promising students?”

Will conceded that with a nod. He was proud of Montford’s enrollment, was partly responsible for the high level of academic achievement to which they could hold their applicants. Because of the strict standards his administrators and faculty maintained, a Montford education was highly sought after.

It was also one of the main reasons that Will was so certain the rumors about Todd, which he’d come to put to rest, were just that. Rumors. Todd’s career, his reputation, were just too important to him. Not only that, he valued his family and community too much to risk it all on some…some liaison with a student.

“So what’s up with Stacy Truitt?” he asked—nonchalantly, he hoped.

“You’ve met her?” Todd looked up, surprised.

Will shook his head. “Just heard of her.”

“As well you might. She’s one of the most promising students I’ve ever had the pleasure to teach.” It wasn’t so much Todd’s words that made Will uncomfortable, but something about his tone—the way his old friend seemed to come to life when he spoke of this girl.

But then, to an educator, finding a student who was going to change the world was a life-giving experience.

Todd continued to tell Will about Stacy’s accomplishments, her goals. “No matter what I give her, she comes back for more,” he said, referring to an independent study course he was administering for Stacy.

Was that all it was, then? Todd and Stacy had been seen off-campus together a couple of times. Perhaps it had something to do with the independent study. Perhaps it really was that simple, Will thought with relief.

“What’s her project?” he asked.

“Medical-personnel rating of peers who care for AIDS patients in comparison with those who care for patients with other infectious diseases.”

Heavy-duty stuff. Running a quick mental overview of what such a project would entail—surveys, lots of math, some interviews—Will was having a hard time figuring out what would require Todd and Stacy to meet off-campus.

“It’s amazing,” Todd went on, his eyes alight with interest, but whether that interest was in the project or the student, Will wasn’t sure. “The preliminary findings sustain the idea that nurses think nurses who tend to AIDS patients receive less respect from their peers.”