Read Online The Sonnet Lover by Carol Goodman - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Carol Goodman
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My voice falters and Mark takes a step toward me, putting a protective arm around my shoulders. I sink into him, relieved that he’s not angry with me for not telling him about the earlier plagiarism incident with Robin.
“I think we all feel that we somehow failed this troubled boy,” Mark says. And then, looking at the police officer, he adds, “Dr. Asher takes her responsibility to her students very seriously. I’ve often had to chide her for being too emotionally involved. This is particularly hard on her. If you don’t have any further questions, we really should let her get home.”
The officer closes his notebook and says he’s done for now anyway. Mark gives my shoulder a squeeze and then takes his arm away to shake the officer’s hand. As they walk toward the elevators together, I turn to Leo Balthasar. “What exactly was Orlando saying to Robin?” I ask, but before he can answer, Balthasar reaches into his trouser pocket to retrieve a vibrating cell phone and, glancing at the caller ID screen, says to me, “I’ve got to take this,” and turns his back on me.
I wait until Mark’s seen the police officer onto the elevator to approach him to explain the plagiarism incident, but before I can reach Mark, the young blond lawyer appears with Gene Silverman, who’s helping a heavily sedated Mara to the elevator. She leaves Gene and Mara at the elevator door and then comes to stand very close to Mark, cups her hand over his ear, and whispers something. Mark nods and then she joins the Silvermans. By the time I’ve reached him, they’ve already disappeared into the elevator.
“You look exhausted,” I say. “You should go home.”
He shakes his head. “I’m going to work in my office tonight. I’ve got press releases and e-mails to write. I’m calling an emergency faculty meeting for ten a.m., so you’d better get home and get some sleep yourself.”
“But tomorrow’s Saturday,” I say, remembering that I’d offered to meet Robin in my office. I’d thought I was acting generously—I hardly ever offer Saturday office hours—but now I realize that “until tomorrow” had been too long for him to wait. I should have offered to talk to him right then and there.
Mark shakes his head. “By Monday the story will be all over the campus. I don’t want our teachers going into their classes unprepared. I’ll e-mail the faculty myself. I’m sure they’ll see the importance of taking a little time out of their weekends for this.”
“Mark, I want to explain about the incident with Robin, the reason I didn’t tell you—”
“It’s not important, Rose, although I wish you’d shared the information with me before—” He stops, seeing how devastated I look. “It really wasn’t your fault. I should have gotten that Brunelli boy out of here sooner.”
“You couldn’t have known how badly Robin would take his accusations—” I stop, alarmed by a flickering of doubt in Mark’s eyes. “Mark, are you sure Orlando didn’t push Robin? You would have told the police if he had, wouldn’t you?”
Mark shakes his head. “No, Rose, I’m sorry. I know it’s hard to face the fact that Robin killed himself, but that’s what happened. But I do think that Orlando shares part of the responsibility for Robin Weiss’s death.” The way he emphasizes the word “part” makes it clear to me who he thinks shares the other part of the blame for Robin’s suicide. If I’d reported the first plagiarism case…if I’d referred Robin to the counseling center…?
I open my mouth to say something—what I’m not sure—to apologize? to explain why I didn’t tell anyone about the plagiarized paper?—but the elevator door opens and the slim blond lawyer steps out.
“Are you going down, Dr. Asher?” she asks. “Shall I hold the door for you?”
I look at Mark. He nods and gives my shoulder a squeeze as he guides me through the doors. Then, before I can turn around, the doors are closed again and
“I think we all feel that we somehow failed this troubled boy,” Mark says. And then, looking at the police officer, he adds, “Dr. Asher takes her responsibility to her students very seriously. I’ve often had to chide her for being too emotionally involved. This is particularly hard on her. If you don’t have any further questions, we really should let her get home.”
The officer closes his notebook and says he’s done for now anyway. Mark gives my shoulder a squeeze and then takes his arm away to shake the officer’s hand. As they walk toward the elevators together, I turn to Leo Balthasar. “What exactly was Orlando saying to Robin?” I ask, but before he can answer, Balthasar reaches into his trouser pocket to retrieve a vibrating cell phone and, glancing at the caller ID screen, says to me, “I’ve got to take this,” and turns his back on me.
I wait until Mark’s seen the police officer onto the elevator to approach him to explain the plagiarism incident, but before I can reach Mark, the young blond lawyer appears with Gene Silverman, who’s helping a heavily sedated Mara to the elevator. She leaves Gene and Mara at the elevator door and then comes to stand very close to Mark, cups her hand over his ear, and whispers something. Mark nods and then she joins the Silvermans. By the time I’ve reached him, they’ve already disappeared into the elevator.
“You look exhausted,” I say. “You should go home.”
He shakes his head. “I’m going to work in my office tonight. I’ve got press releases and e-mails to write. I’m calling an emergency faculty meeting for ten a.m., so you’d better get home and get some sleep yourself.”
“But tomorrow’s Saturday,” I say, remembering that I’d offered to meet Robin in my office. I’d thought I was acting generously—I hardly ever offer Saturday office hours—but now I realize that “until tomorrow” had been too long for him to wait. I should have offered to talk to him right then and there.
Mark shakes his head. “By Monday the story will be all over the campus. I don’t want our teachers going into their classes unprepared. I’ll e-mail the faculty myself. I’m sure they’ll see the importance of taking a little time out of their weekends for this.”
“Mark, I want to explain about the incident with Robin, the reason I didn’t tell you—”
“It’s not important, Rose, although I wish you’d shared the information with me before—” He stops, seeing how devastated I look. “It really wasn’t your fault. I should have gotten that Brunelli boy out of here sooner.”
“You couldn’t have known how badly Robin would take his accusations—” I stop, alarmed by a flickering of doubt in Mark’s eyes. “Mark, are you sure Orlando didn’t push Robin? You would have told the police if he had, wouldn’t you?”
Mark shakes his head. “No, Rose, I’m sorry. I know it’s hard to face the fact that Robin killed himself, but that’s what happened. But I do think that Orlando shares part of the responsibility for Robin Weiss’s death.” The way he emphasizes the word “part” makes it clear to me who he thinks shares the other part of the blame for Robin’s suicide. If I’d reported the first plagiarism case…if I’d referred Robin to the counseling center…?
I open my mouth to say something—what I’m not sure—to apologize? to explain why I didn’t tell anyone about the plagiarized paper?—but the elevator door opens and the slim blond lawyer steps out.
“Are you going down, Dr. Asher?” she asks. “Shall I hold the door for you?”
I look at Mark. He nods and gives my shoulder a squeeze as he guides me through the doors. Then, before I can turn around, the doors are closed again and
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