Page 7 of Wish I Were Here
And…I start to sweat.Is he coming over here?
I give Dr. Gupta an extra-wide smile. “Thank you again for breakfast,” I say, my voice picking up speed with each syllable. “Itwasnicetoseeyou,” I blurt in a single breath. Nobody at my new job knows about my nickname, Cat. So, if I hurry this along, maybe I can get out of here before my new boss realizes that the guy in the middle of the lawn is yelling for—
“Catherine.”
Dr. Gupta’s head lifts at the sound of my full first name, his gaze sliding in the direction of the voice. By the way his eyes widen, I know the moment he spots the middle-aged white man waving at me from across the lawn.
“Excuse me, Catherine.” He clears his throat. “Is it possible that…jugglerover there is calling foryou?”
My shoulders droop. This patch of lawn is one of “that juggler’s”favorite places to show off his skills. Usually, a pack of students gather to watch, calling out encouragement and asking to give the juggling clubs a try for themselves. I should have known better than to walk over here. If I’d noticed him on the lawn earlier, I would have turned around and fled in the other direction. But I was so pleased with Dr. Gupta’s praise of my work that I let my guard down.
Big mistake.
Because now the juggler is making his way in our direction, colorful clubs flying to the sky and falling back to earth like giant pieces of confetti. His tanned arms move so fast they look out of focus as he deftly plucks each club from the air and then flicks it higher again.
“Is he calling for me?” I stall, knowing full well that he is. “Gosh.” I shift my weight, wondering if there’s still time to make a run for it.
The juggler is only steps away now, and one by one, he lets the clubs drop into his hands until he’s standing in front of me, holding them out like two colorful bouquets of flowers. “Want to give them a go, Kitty Cat?”
I back away as if those juggling clubs are on fire. “What?No.” I’m sure in the span of an instant, my face has turned about every color of those clubs—green with nausea, red with mortification, blue with the sad realization that this is actually happening.
The juggler laughs and tucks all six clubs under his arm, reaching out to hug me. “What a wonderful surprise to seeyou here, Kitty Cat. I’m absolutely delighted.” He pulls me against him, and my heart does a tiny flip in my chest. Because I know he’s delighted to see me; he’salwaysdelighted to see me. I just wish that, at this moment, I could feel the same way.
“Hi, Dad,” I mumble into his denim overalls as I hug him back. Because what else can I do? Give him a shove and run away? That would only cause even more of a scene in front of my new boss, as if such a thing were possible. My only hope now is that I can somehow make this quick.
When I pull back, the first sight I see is Dr. Gupta blinking over and over, mouth slightly ajar. Maybe it’s the nickname my dad has given me that finally broke reserved Dr. Gupta’s careful composure. Or it’s possibly learning that the circus performer standing in front of us in scuffed green Chuck Taylors peeking out from the rolled cuffs of his overalls, hair tied back in a shaggy man-bun, and, inexplicably, a plastic-flowered lei draped around his neck, provided me with half my genetic material.
“It’s, uh, a surprise to see you here, too,” I murmur. Despite this being one of his favorite haunts, itisa surprise to see Dad here, because I thought he worked the late-morning shift at the grocery store in Shadyside. Why isn’t he there now? “But I don’t want to keep you if you have to get to work. I can call you later.”
Dad shoots me a grin, and the fine lines deepen around his dark eyes and sink into his tanned forehead. “No rush. I don’t have to be anywhere but here.” He gives Dr. Gupta a wink, miming the motion of tossing his clubs in the air. “This is the best job in the world.”
Oh no. That can only mean one thing. My gaze flies to the center of the lawn where Dad was juggling moments ago, and I spot his signature fedora in the grass, lying upside down next to his tote bag. A handwritten sign leans against the hat.
THESE TIPS DON’T LIE
He’s out here juggling to make money.
What about his job in the grocery store?My chest burns, and I can hear my pulse pounding in my ears. But I sense my new boss watching me, so I paste on a pleasant smile as if this is all just a bit of fun and not my total nightmare.
Dr. Gupta clears his throat, and I realize he expects an introduction. So much for getting this over with quickly.
“Um, Dr. Gupta, this is—my father, Andrew Lipton. Dad, this is Dr. Gupta. He’s the dean of the mathematics department where I’vejust been hired as a professor.” I tilt my head in a meaningful gesture that I hope gives him the hint that I’m in the middle of an important meeting, and please let’s move things along. But Dad doesn’t get hints. He would never imagine that this was anything but a bit of luck that we ran into each other.
“Dr. G., so nice to meet you,” Dad says buoyantly. Genuinely delighted, as always. “Call me Andy.” He reaches out and pumps Dr. Gupta’s hand up and down. “I’m sure you know how lucky you are to have snagged Kitty Cat for your math department.”
I press my hands to my temples.
“Of course,” Dr. Gupta says, subtly trying to pull his hand from Dad’s. When that doesn’t work, he screws uphis face and gives it a good yank, finally dislodging himself from Dad’s overwhelming enthusiasm and stumbling backward. I reach out to keep him from falling in the grass, but luckily, he rights himself before I have to manhandle my new employer.
“Your daughter has a brilliant mathematical mind,” Dr. Gupta says when he’s finally composed himself. “Her development of methods for solving hyperbolic equations is going to make a huge impact on the field of computational analysis someday. But I’m sure you knew that.”
A brilliant mathematical mind! A huge impact!I flush with pride. If we were anywhere else right now, this would be one of the highlights of my career. Instead, I’m just hoping to get out of here before Dr. Gupta changes his mind and takes it all back.
“You don’t have to tellmethat Cat is smart.” Dad gives me a wide grin. “I knew that from the moment she figured out how to change her own diaper when she was two. She put the stinky one in the diaper pail and everything.”
I close my eyes. Please tell me he didn’t. Please tell me none of this is happening. But when I peek through my lashes, Dr. Gupta is still standing next to me, his spine straight, eyebrows raised, and Dad is still talking.
“Cat’s always been into math and numbers and calculating the probability of something-something.” Dad shakes his head, and a few locks of his silver-streaked brown hair slide out of his man-bun, sticking out by his temples and making him look slightly unhinged. “She didn’t get it from me.”
