Page 23 of Second Chance

“Not really.”

Tony blinks in shock. He expected a sarcastic brush-off, not honesty. He’s still working out how to reply, if at all, when Colette continues.

“One of my advisees asked to meet today. A film student. He was…in shock, I suppose.”

“This is one of the summer school kids?”

“Yes.” Colette sighs, pausing on the cucumber. Her grip on the knife is tight. “Maybe I should have directed him to his actual faculty advisor now summer school is over.”

“He came to you. He must have needed your support.”

“That’s just it. I have no idea how to give nonacademic support.”

Tony studies the back of her head, the elegant line of her neck, newly revealed by the haircut. She doesn’t come across as a warm or extroverted person, but he’s never thought of her as in any way socially inept or distanced. On the contrary, he envies her poise and dignity. “I don’t think that’s true.”

The knife thuds against the cutting board as she resumes chopping. “Sean—the student—he’s only ever come to me for class-related issues. Today, he told me his girlfriend found Professor Lawrence, and he was worried about her mental health.”

“Oh, shit, Lily’s boyfriend?”

“Lily?”

“Lily, you know, from, uh, last year?”

“Ah.” Colette dumps her cucumber in the salad bowl and starts on the tomatoes with perhaps more vigor than necessary. “Yes. Well, I suppose concern about her mental health is warranted. And his.”

“How did he seem?”

“Confused. Frustrated. Scared. Very young.”

“It’s good you were there for him.”

“But I wasn’t! I don’t know how to be. It’s notlikethis where I’m from.”

Colette’s English is fluent enough that Tony barely notices her accent most of the time. Occasionally around a particularly sharp word, her voice seems to automatically soften, but otherwise, she could pass as American. She rarely talks about France, only about all the issues in America, and Daniel only ever mentions it to tease her for how French she is.

“It’s better there, huh?”

Her laugh, when it comes, is humorless. “Some things yes, some things no.”

“What things?”

“Well, health care. Worker’s rights. Public transportation.”

“Right.” Tony remembers, once again, that he’s very lucky he’s employed by his father, who has a vested interest in providing health care and decent hours to his own son.

“But it’s not… It’s different. People talk more here. About everything, even the difficult things.”

“Like what?”

“Race. It’s a more open debate here. My sister called last week. She’s been asked to conform to a more professional hairstyle at the firm she works in. Not in a way anyone could sue for, but the implication is clear. Here, that would be cause for debate. In France…”

Again, Tony studies Colette’s profile. “The change in hairstyle wasn’t just an adventure?”

“Not exactly.”

He lets that percolate a while, but he can’t help pushing. “So, all the advising stuff…”

“Is not a professor’s job in Europe.” Colette speaks evenly and slices the tomatoes precisely, regardless of the fact that it’s essentially her only skill in the kitchen. “There’s no such thing as a faculty advisor in a French university. At least, there wasn’t in mine. If you’re overwhelmed, or anxious, or struggling, you don’t talk to your professors.”

---