Rhonda strolled back into sight, trying not to interrupt Liesl’s discussion with the caterer but making in clear that she was next in line. Liesl waved her over, confident that the catering dilemma had been resolved the way they always were—by offering more wine. Looking down, Liesl saw the empty glass of wine in her hand and felt a twinge of embarrassment.
“I was hoping to speak with you before I left.”
“Rhonda, I’m so glad you caught me.”
Rhonda was still holding her sparkling water. Liesl gave the caterer a nod, and he left them.
“About Percy Pickens,” Liesl said. “I’m sorry if you felt attacked by him.”
“I can handle men like him.”
“You shouldn’t have to handle men like him.”
“And here I thought you were going to admonish me for talking back.”
The apology had been a lead up to that. Liesl had no talent for admonishing adults who had done no wrong.
“He’s an important donor to the university,” Liesl said.
“I know.”
“Well,” Liesl said. “There was no harm done.”
They turned back toward the room. Percy and Max were still huddled together, but their limbs looked looser now. On account of the wine. The volume of the reading room was turned all the way up, the conversations of the suits floating up high to mingle with the several stories of books above their heads.
“I would have ended the conversation if he hadn’t,” Rhonda said. “I had an agenda in agreeing to do this for you.”
The vegan in the wig interrupted them to say she was leaving. Both Liesl and Rhonda shook her hand and wished her a good night. Her wig had slipped slightly to the left. On account of the wine.
“The Peshawar should be carbon-dated,” Rhonda said. “I can find us the resources to do it.”
A waiter came by with more wine. Liesl covered her glass with her hand to refuse him.
“You’d ruin it,” said Liesl. “We’d lose the book.”
A weak argument. They were already losing the book.
“A lot of the money in this room is supportive of the idea. Don’t say no out of fear of the unknown.”
Liesl made Rhonda no promises. Walking home that night, she called and left a message. For Professor Mahmoud. Asking him about his interest in a leaf from a Quran; gold calligraphy on blue vellum.
Liesl stopped by the noodle shop on the corner on her way home and asked for an order of dumplings. It was only a minute or two between the noodle shop and her front door, but she ate the slippery dumplings with her fingers as she walked, plucking them from the tray and slurping them up in giant bites.
Nineteen Years Earlier
Max sweated under the fluorescent lobby lights, one of the first times he’d been out of the house at all since his secret stopped being a secret.
“You’re not wearing the collar.” Christopher walked a lap around Max when he greeted him in the library’s lobby and found him in a suit that looked very much like his own. “Are we worried that the change will raise questions?”
Christopher was striding back toward his office. Max followed. Every person they passed on the way through the workroom was staring at him; he was sure of it. Max put his fingers up to his neck where the collar had been. Mourning its departure.
“It was in the newspaper. The questions are no longer sleeping.” He pulled his tie tighter, wanting it to act as armor the way his collar always had.
“It’s fine, I guess. They’ll know you’ve left the church…” Christopher’s voice trailed off as he searched through stacks of papers on his desk, shoving piles from one side to the other.
“Wait, do they know I’m coming?” Max put his hands in his pockets, then crossed his arms in front of him, then clasped them behind his back. Without the armor of the collar, he wasn’t even certain how to stand.
“I thought it best not to leave a lot of time in advance for questions. It’ll be a nice surprise.” He held a sheet of paper, finally retrieved from the piles, up in the air like a victor’s flag.
Max thought it would have been better to be honest. To confess about the scandal. To be open about the stolen money. To tell them exactly why he had been asked to leave the church. He had been under the impression that Christopher agreed with him, but now it was clear that wasn’t true, and he let Christopher take the lead. He knew this place and these people better, and besides, he was Max’s boss now, and even outside of the church, it was in Max’s nature to be an obedient servant.