Free Patricia Gaffney by Mad Dash

easily do, and I’ve got an idea along those lines, too.”
    Richard Weldon was offering him his job. Andrew couldn’t have been more astonished if he’d offered him his wife.
    “ I don’t want it.” He rolled backward on the wheels of his chair. He held up his hands, like a trampoline spotter. “Don’t give it to me. ”
    “Damn it, I knew you’d say that! Okay, okay, listen.” Richard grimaced, struggling to make his face patient again. “You don’t have to decide right away, this is just a feeler. But think about it. We want you, Andrew, you’re the man.”
    “Who’s ‘we’?”
    “Everybody I can get to agree on it.”
    “Ah. Two people?” He relaxed; all was well. “I haven’t got time to write papers right now, Richard,” he said with feigned regret. “Gilded Age is going well, but it’s a lot tougher than I anticipated. It’s the first new class I’ve taught in a couple of years, and I didn’t take into account the learning curve.”
    “Well, you wanted to teach it. I thought it was too much, but you insisted. So, in a way, you owe me.”
    He ignored that. “Give it to Dominic. He wants the job.”
    Richard’s face went red. “Brodsky would be a disaster, don’t even think about it.”
    “He’s hard to get along with, yes, but—”
    “Forget it. No, you’re the man.”
    “Look, Richard. Apart from everything else, if I took on the chairmanship I’d have to give up two of my classes. Teaching is the part I like. ”
    “Yes, but think what you could do for the department.” Richard jolted up on the balls of his feet, making himself taller. “You’ve been saying for years we need to rejuvenate the history club, get the students more involved, get ’em active again. Here’s your chance! You stand for the students, that’s your strength, more than scholarship. Even more than scholarship,” he corrected hastily. “The pendulum swings back and forth, but only when somebody’s got his hand on it. I’ll admit, we’ve probably gone too far in the direction of research and publishing under my watch—so here’s a chance for you to move us back toward the center. And the young faculty—everybody knows how you feel about mentoring the assistants. You and Peter Flynn couldn’t be farther apart there.”
    “No,” Andrew agreed. “Or on most other things.” But why had Richard brought up Flynn?
    “Speaking of Peter,” the chairman said casually. “I’ve talked to him, and he’ll get on board for you, too.”
    “I don’t think that’s likely.”
    “No, you’re wrong. In fact, he says he’ll let you write a chapter for the book he’s editing. To help you get that leg up.”
    “Peter Flynn will let me write a chapter for his book.” Andrew stood, began shoving notes and books into his briefcase. “How extraordinarily generous. Look, Richard, I’ve got to go.” Brilliant , just what he needed, Peter Flynn to the rescue.
    “It is generous,” Richard insisted. “More important, it’s exactly what you need. It’ll get you over the hump, don’t you see? Put your prejudices aside, write this chapter, and you’ll get the full you need, I can almost guarantee it. You’re so close. ”
    “I don’t need a full professorship to chair the history department— if I wanted to chair it, which I don’t. Hobbes!” he shouted, to wake up the dog.
    “I don’t get you. Here I am handing you two gifts on two separate platters, and you’re saying no. It’s not laziness—what is it? I’ve known a lot of TAPs, but you’re much brighter than that, always have been.”
    “TAPs…?” Teaching assistants? Andrew looked at him quizzically.
    “TAP—terminal associate professor.” Richard laughed. Then he turned red. “Don’t tell me you’ve never heard that term.”
    The bell rang.
    “This is just a beginning,” Richard said, giving him a chummy slap on the shoulder, letting him go through the door first. “It’s not a formal offer, just a feeler. We’ll talk