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They were at the coffee-and-dessert part of the evening, which was very chichi Wisconsin. Wil was snuggled next to Katie and listening to her eat the crème brûlée Sam had expertly concocted, making small noises that sounded like she was… kissing Katie, so Wil was nice and buzzed on that sound, and excited because Robin was finally getting to the good part.
“I started at East High when you guys would’ve been…”
“Our sophomore year,” Wil said.
“Okay, yeah.” Robin’s hair was tamed tonight in two big buns on either side of her head, and she wore a green velvety top with huge swooping sleeves like moth wings underneath a pair of denim overalls. She sat beside Sam on their black leather sofa, her thigh tight against his. “The class load I had at first was mostly everything the rest of the social sciences instructors didn’t want to teach. It was multiple preps, whatever, a nightmare.” Robin waved her hands around frantically. “Doesn’t matter. That’s the kind of thing you’re supposed to do when you’re twenty-four years old and a woman because no one thinks you’re real. The only advantage to that position, of course, is if you’re not real, then no one is paying any attention to you, and that means that reconnaissance is an available hobby.” She put an imaginary fedora on her head, squishing it down over her big hair with a sly smile that made Katie laugh.
“How could no one notice you?” Katie leaned forward. “I can’t look at anything else in this room except you and Wil, and that’s only because I’m in love with Wil.”
Wil laughed. Katie’s flirting made Robin blush, which just made her prettier. “That’s a good question,” Robin said. “You should ask Sam that question.”
Katie swung her gaze to Sam, narrowing her eyes. “What did you do to her?”
“Jesus.” Sam choked. “Go easy. YouknowI didn’t tell her how I felt about her in high school and then didn’t see her for twenty years.”
Katie sighed. “And you know I have no argument against that excuse.” She reached out her fist to Sam to bump. “Solidarity as ding-dongs.”
Sam bumped it and smiled.
“But watch yourself.” Katie pointed at Sam and hooked her legover Wil’s. “You’re going to have to earn Robin Dahl every day for the rest of your life.”
“That is actually my personal philosophy.” Sam leaned over and kissed Robin’s neck. “Carry on.”
“So Andrew Cook was obviously in my department,” Robin said. “I knew right away that he was the worst.”
“Thank you,” Wil said. “And a bully.”
“Agreed,” Robin said. “He doesn’t mess with me anymore, and he’s been put on notice more than once, but you’d be surprised how many times a mediocre white man can fail up.”
“I wouldn’t,” Katie said. “I’d be more surprised if he didn’t have a bunch of teaching awards and made the top of the pay scale.”
“Point and point.” Robin smiled. “So it won’t surprise you to know that, yes, Andrew Cook managed to get the attention of two women.”
Wil shook her head. “Standards can be so low.”
“When I started teaching, he was married to Cynthia Cook. She’s an executive assistant high up at Georgia-Pacific. At that time, their marriage was very seriously not doing well. Like, fighting over the phone in the breakroom, the principal having to take Andrew aside—that kind of not doing well.”
“Cynthia Cook. The blonde?” Katie looked at Wil, her eyebrows raised. Her cheeks were flushed, and Wil put her hand over Katie’s knee.
“Official Wife,” Wil confirmed. Her heart was beating a little fast.
“That’s right. But they had two kids. He actuallycomplainedabout keeping things together for the kids, but I think that’s what Cynthia was doing. Her job was very demanding, and she’d worked hard to get into an assistant position to the bigwigs over there. I got the sense she was concerned that if she had to try toco-parent with Andrew, she’d end up having to give up her job because he was so hopelessly incompetent.”
“Good lord,” Sam said, with genuine annoyance.
Robin hooked her arm through Sam’s at the elbow. “So they were limping along, and then Andrew was suddenly happy. I was sus.”
“No shit.” Wil had to keep herself from leaning her whole body forward in anticipation. Beneath all the levels on which the Mr. Cook mystery had been a pretext for spending time with Katie, it turned out there was a level on which Wil quite desperately wanted to get to the bottom of it. “How did you figure it out?”
“There would be a moment, Wil,” Robin said, leaning toward her with incredible magnetism, “that any fucking nitwit could figure it out. Andrew Cook is not wily, let’s say. Kindly. But to answer your question, I followed him.” She said this with satisfaction, as though any pure-blooded Midwestern high school teacher would have done the same.
“I love you,” Katie said, with all sincerity. Wil laughed.
“I love you, too,” Robin replied. “So I grabbed all my grading, and I told my husband at the time I’d be late, and I followed Andrew Cook across town and saw him having cozy drinks at one of those fish fry bars with Jess Heidelman.”
“Brunette!” Wil said.
“That’s right.”