Page 42 of Troy Story
“I’m just used to archaeologists with big egos.” She poked him in the shoulder. “Don’t turn out like that, okay? I like you just the way you are.” She’d almost said the word “love” but caught herself in time. “It’s usually easier to solve someone else’s problems than your own.”
“Speaking of which, I haven’t had a chance to ask. How’d it go with Kerim the other night when you worked on your dissertation topic?”
When a stray cat brushed against her ankles, she bent down to pet it, hoping Stuart would change the subject. Now that they were alone, the last thing she wanted to talk about was her thesis.
He didn’t let it go. “What are you hiding? Was your meeting that bad?”
She stood to face him. “It was fine. Just very academic. We spent hours poring over excavation reports from past seasons at Troy. Then we scoured a bunch of academic databases so I could find out what’s been covered before. I decided to write about the advance in archaeological methodologies used at Troy over the past century, from the 1930s up to the present day. I’ll be examining how they’ve affected our interpretation of the site.”
“Sounds like you’re off to a good start.”
His response wasn’t as enthusiastic as she’d expected, but she hadn’t exactly been leaping for joy about it, either. She tried to inject some excitement into her voice. “If I can squeeze in enough research while I’m at Troy, I’ll make good headway. I could even whip up an outline and a few chapters.”
The thought ofwritingher thesis still daunted her, but Kerim had been an encouraging mentor.
Stuart leaned over and kissed the top of her head. “As long as that’s what you want.”
Again, he didn’t sound entirely convinced. But he’d seen her go through this phase of planning before, only to have it fizzle out.
This time, it was different. She’d show her mother and everyone else who doubted her that she could pull it off.
CHAPTERSEVENTEEN
Two days after their field trip, Dusty’s enthusiasm for her new dissertation topic had faded a little.
No, it had faded alot.
After settling on her idea, she’d emailed her graduate adviser with the message, “This is the one!”
To which her adviser had replied, “I’ll believe it when you’ve written over two chapters.”
Fair, given that Dusty’s last three attempts had stalled out within the first twenty pages. But this time, she wasn’t daunted. Even if Stuart had responded with less enthusiasm than she’d hoped, she still felt certain she was on the right track.
But on Tuesday, after the day’s work was done, she sat in the library, surrounded by piles of books and articles, and literally wished she were anywhere else. Though she enjoyed delving into research, she didn’t want to do it now. Not when the crew were gathered in the common room, playing cards together.
And to think—this was only the research phase. A walk in the park compared to the gut-wrenching prospect of writing hundreds of pages of dry academic material.
Why not set it aside until Boston? You can start working on it when you get back.
Who was she kidding? If she wanted to write about Troy, she should do it now, when the site was close at hand, and she had access to scads of excavation reports. Besides, once she got home, she’d get distracted by her artwork, her friends, and her life in Boston.
In a fit of frustration, she threw her notebook across the room. As it made its arc, the door opened, and Stuart poked his head in. He ducked as the notebook hit the wall above him, then reached down and grabbed it off the floor. “That bad, huh?”
She scowled at him. “Go away. I don’t need you mocking me. I’m working.”
He strode over to her and placed the notebook on the table. “Are you? Or are you stewing in misery, ready to snap at anyone who comes to help you?”
Guilt swamped over her. She placed her head in her hands. “Sorry. I’m a beast right now.”
He gestured for her to stand up. “Come on. Let’s go outside.”
“That’s your solution? To kiss me until I forget about my thesis?”
“Who said anything about kissing?” He laughed. “I’m not here to corrupt you. I’m offering you a change of scenery. You’ve been here for two hours and haven’t made any progress. Right?” When she nodded, he came around to her chair and took her hand. “Let’s go.”
Even if he’d promised to kick her butt when she needed it, she hadn’t asked him to do it tonight. But she appreciated that he’d come to help her.
Grumbling, she stood and followed him out of the research library, then out the back door of the field house. The night sky here was much darker than in Boston or Cairo. She could easily make out the Big Dipper and the North Star. Taking a deep, cleansing breath, she allowed the cool night air to wash over her. She hadn’t realized how tight her shoulders were or how much tension had been coiled inside her body.
