Page 24 of Wish I Were Here
“You really don’t have to, you know. I mean, you’ve been driving me around all day. And I’m sure you have other things to do. The elevator…” I trail off.
“You saw for yourself that Dante’s taking care of the elevator. And we’ve got your birth certificate to track down.”
There’s thatweagain. “Okay. Thanks, Luca.”
Inside the University Club, I locate the banquet room where the department is hosting the faculty luncheon. The smell of bland baked ziti and soggy vegetables greets me as I enter—standard fare at these sorts of events—and my stomach growls again. But instead of making my way over to the buffet, I locate Dr. Gupta. He’s off to one side, pacing in front of the coatroom, and talking into his phone with uncharacteristic emotion.
“The semester starts next week. How are we just finding out about this now?” he barks at the person on the otherend. “We’ll have four classes to cover. Not to mention her committee assignments.”
He’s talking about me. Who else could it be?
Dr. Gupta looks up and spots me standing there. “I have to go. I’ll call you back.” And without waiting for the other person to reply, he hangs up the phone.
I approach him cautiously. “Hello, sir.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I—” I straighten my shoulders. “I’m a member of this faculty.”
Dr. Gupta throws his hands in the air. “Apparently, you’re not. Apparently, nobody knows who you are.”
“I’m Dr. Catherine Lipton. I swear I am.” I take another step forward. “This has all been some sort of terrible mix-up. I’m sorting it out right now.” Thankfully, my voice sounds much more confident than I’m feeling, but I pull my shoulders back for good measure.
Dr. Gupta just shakes his head. “I’m afraid that’s not going to be good enough.”
My breath hitches. No. He can’t be suggesting that—
“I’m extremely inconvenienced to have to find someone to replace you,” he cuts in.
Replace me?Again, I must have heard him wrong.
“You were scheduled to teach four classes. Plus, what about those papers we talked about? Who is going to write them now that you won’t be here to do it?”
My mouth drops open. “What do you mean I won’t be here to do it? Of course I’ll be here. I told you I’m sorting it out now.”
“Forgive me if I don’t feel a great deal of confidence.”
I know I just met Dr. Gupta a few months ago, but I admit I’m shocked by this conversation. A few weeks ago, he was offering to be my mentor, and today he’s ready to give up on me. Am I really so expendable? What about my potential? My promising work andbrilliant mathematical mind?
“Classes are starting soon,” he points out.
I release the tension in my shoulders. Dr. Gupta is understandably upset that this identity issue has thrown a wrench in the semester. He’s the dean of the department, and he needs to think of the big picture. I’m sure he doesn’t mean to come off as cold and unconcerned. But surely, he has some pull at the university. Maybe there’s something he could do to help. Or at the very least, he could give me some time to sort it out. “I’m well aware that classes are starting soon. And I’m confident that this will all be behind us by then.”
Dr. Gupta makes a vague noise in the back of his throat.
Panic radiates through me. “Please, sir. Give me a few days to sort this out.”
He raises an eyebrow. “You have a plan for how to do that?”
I remember Luca out there on the lawn, waiting for me.The first thing you need to do is find the original copy of your birth certificate.It’s a start. It’s a plan. “Yes, of course I do.”
“All right.” Dr. Gupta’s voice drips with skepticism. “I can give you a few days.”
My body sags with relief. “Thank you, sir. I promise you won’t regret it.”
But he’s already turned away from me to head across the room where his colleagues sit.
No. Our colleagues.
