Love Story

10

Mr. William F. Thompson, Associate Dean of the Harvard Law School, could not believe his ears.

'Did I hear you right, Mr. Barrett?'

'Yes, sir, Dean Thompson.'

It had not been easy to say the first time. It was no easier repeating it.

'I'll need a scholarship for next year, sir.'

'Really?'

'That's why I'm here, sir. You are in charge of Financial Aid, aren't you, Dean Thompson?'

'Yes, but it's rather curious. Your father — '

'He's no longer involved, sir.'

'I beg your pardon?' Dean Thompson took off his glasses and began to polish them with his tie.

'He and I have had a sort of disagreement.'

The Dean put his glasses back on, and looked at me with that kind of expressionless expression you have to be a dean to master.

'This is very unfortunate, Mr. Barrett,' he said. For whom? I wanted to say. This guy was beginning to piss me off.

'Yes, sir,' I said. 'Very unfortunate. But that's why I've come to you, sir. I'm getting married next month. We'll both be working over the summer. Then Jenny — that's my wife — will be teaching in a private school. That's a living, but it's still not tuition. Your tuition is pretty steep, Dean Thompson.'

'Uh — yes,' he replied. But that's all. Didn't this guy get the drift of my conversation? Why in hell did he think I was there, anyway?

'Dean Thompson, I would like a scholarship.' I said it straight out. A third time. 'I have absolutely zilch in the bank, and I'm already accepted.'

'Ah, yes,' said Mr. Thompson, hitting upon the technicality. 'The final date for financial — aid applications is long overdue.'

What would satisfy this bastard? The gory details, maybe? Was it scandal he wanted? What?

'Dean Thompson, when I applied I didn't know this would come up.'

'That's quite right, Mr. Barrett, and I must tell you that I really don't think this office should enter into a family quarrel. A rather distressing one, at that.'

'Okay, Dean,' I said, standing up. 'I can see what you're driving at. But I'm still not gonna kiss my father's ass so you can get a Barrett Hall for the Law School.'

As I turned to leave, I heard Dean Thompson mutter, 'That's unfair.'

I couldn't have agreed more.