Lost Contact (The Bridge Sequence Book One) Nathan Hystad (the reading list book .txt) 📖

in my pocket, and I tugged it free, checking to see who it was. My sister was asking what time I’d be arriving. I sighed, sitting in my leather chair, and I spun around, stopping to gawk out the window. Most of the oak trees in the courtyard were bare-branched; a few desperate auburn leaves clung with hope.

I found myself regretting my decision to leave town for the holidays. It had been a year since Mom had passed away, and the wound was fresh in my mind. Seeing Beverly and the kids would only remind me of what I was missing.

The phone was heavy in my hand as I replied, I’ll be there by six. I hit send and slipped it into the breast pocket of my tweed blazer. I’d accepted the role of classic professor with open arms: the loafers, elbow patches, complete with beige pants. I stifled a laugh, wondering what my dad would have thought of all this. From the pictures I’d seen of him at his college, he’d have told me to change into jeans and a t-shirt. Thinking of him made me check his old watch. The leather straps were cracked and had been repaired on numerous occasions, but the watch still ticked. I spun the mechanism around a dozen times, winding it, and slid my sleeve into place.

I flipped my laptop open, checking emails, and saw an incoming call from my old professor. With a smile, I accepted, tilting the screen until I was in the center of the video chat window. “Doctor Klein, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Are we using titles now, Doctor Walker?” the man asked. He was nearing sixty, but to me, he still seemed like the forty-year-old man that had mentored me from a young age. His hair had more gray in it, and his neatly-trimmed beard was whiter than ever, but he’d always taken exceptional care of himself.

I’ve never cared to be called a doctor. I’m proud of my achievements, but at the end of the day, I study old relics and teach anthropology classes. “Let’s skip the formalities, Richard.”

“Good. I heard you were in Mexico.” Richard leaned away, picking up a cup with Harvard written on it.

I lifted an eyebrow. I hadn’t told anyone where my true destination had been, instead opting to pretend I’d left for some rest and relaxation. “A few months ago. I can’t believe we haven’t spoken since then.”

“That’s how life gets. I’ve been busy, and you, with the new job…”

So that was what this was really about. “Richard, the job is going well. I think I’m getting through to these students.”

The older man sipped his drink and set the cup down, steepling his fingers. “You were my best student. Your father would want you here, teaching in my department at Harvard, not for some two-bit college…”

I cleared my throat, speaking low. “I know what I’m doing. I get that you’re trying to protect me and my career, but I won’t work there. I’ve told you a hundred times.”

“I understand, but please consider it at least. I’ve had some issues with the new Method and Theory professor, and I’ve already suggested the perfect replacement.” Doctor Richard Klein knew how to push the right buttons.

I tapped my desk, seeing someone approach my office door. She looked through the glass, and I lifted a finger. “Richard, I have to go. I hope you have a great Thanksgiving. Say hi to Janelle and the kids for me.”

My mentor rubbed his chin and nodded. “You heading home?”

“I am.”

“Tell me you’ll contemplate taking the position.”

I sighed and smiled at him, not wanting to argue. I’d only make myself late for dinner. “I’ll call you soon.”

“Splendid. Take care of yourself, Rex.”

The call ended, and I shut the laptop, waving Jessica inside.

“Do you mind if we speak for a moment?” the president of the college asked. She looked as professional as ever, her curly black hair dropping to her shoulders, barely skimming her jacket. She was part of the reason for my wardrobe change since I’d started here. A strict dress code was mandatory for the professors at this college, and I was happy to oblige.

“Sure, Jessica. Come in.” I stood, coming to sit on the desk, and she took the first-row seat Luca had occupied.

“Rex, I know this wasn’t your first choice of schools…” she began.

“I love this job.” I couldn’t help but cut her off, and I zipped it, sealing my lips. I wondered if she’d overheard any of my conversation with Richard.

“Regardless, with your father’s tenure at Harvard and your subsequent graduation there, I assume you had your sights set on teaching in his footsteps. I just wanted to say how delighted we are with your performance so far, and that we’re thrilled to see you thriving in our administration.” Jessica smiled, and I returned it.

“I’m glad to hear that. I know what you said makes sense, but I’m ready to carve my own path. Hopefully, that involves teaching here for as long as you’ll have me,” I assured her. She got to her feet, reaching her hand out. We shook, and her grip lingered a few seconds longer than I expected.

“Are you doing anything for the holidays?” she asked.

“Leaving town to visit my sister and her husband,” I told her, and she nodded. “How about you? You and Mr. Hansen doing anything special?”

Jessica cleared her throat. “There is no Mr. Hansen.” She walked to the doorway and turned before exiting. “See you in a few days, Rex.”

What was that? I snapped out of it. If I was going to make it to my hometown by six, I’d have to put a move on.

An hour later, I was driving west in my five-year-old SUV, the heated seat on low as the temperature had dropped substantially. Growing up in the bedroom community north of Springfield had been boring as a kid, but once I was out of Boston’s traffic, I appreciated the open air and the quiet