11.7 the Burren and is it attraction?
Jessica and her first rommate didn’t speak again after that first week of school, but Jeanne, Celeste, and Jessica, on the other hand, were inseparable.
The three girls shared a dorm-room through freshman and sophomore years’, and moved into an apartment in Allston, one of the western suburbs, during their junior year. It was during that year that Jessica met and started dating Scott.
Jessica met Scott at the first Beta Alpha Psi reception. Jeanne talked her into coming to the meeting, it wasn’t normally Jessica’s kind of thing. An informational interview or networking meeting with a prospective employer was one thing, but networking with the same classmates you saw every day seemed like a waste of time. Jeanne convinced her to come by telling her that some recruiters from the Big Five accounting firms would be present.
So, Jessica decked herself out in her best business suit, accompanied by her briefcase and folio of resumes and business cards. When she walked into the lobby, where the Beta Alpha Psi reception was being held, her first move was to mark out the recruiters.
Scott was wearing khakis and a Deloitte and Touche polo. Jessica immediately gravitated to him, as the only representative of a big five firm that was present. She cornered him just next to the refreshment table, and forcefully offered her hand. He juggled the plate of food and cup of punch that he was carrying, and gave her a perfunctory handshake before turning back to his plate and cup.
“Ahem,” Jessica said, “I’m Jessica. I’m a junior here in the accounting program.”
Scott finished chewing, took a large swig of punch, and said, “I figured you were in accounting, this is the Beta Alpha Psi meeting, isn’t it?”
Jessica blushed, but wasn’t discouraged. “I’m considering working for one of the big five after I get my CPA next summer,” she said. “Could you tell me what it is that you do at D&T?”
He laughed. “D&T, aren’t you cool? Actually, you’re wasting your time. I’m a senior in the physics program. My mom works for Deloitte, that’s how I got the t-shirt. I came for the food. Now if you don’t mind?”
“Actually, I do mind,” Jessica said, getting angry. “It’s one thing to come and pose as an accounting major just for the free food, but do you really need to be so rude? I came over to ask you a perfectly legitimate question if you were who you’re pretending to be. Instead of explaining the situation, you do your best to insult me. Well you know what? I’m the one who belongs here, not you. Personally, I’d recommend that you go to the grocery store rather than shopping for your dinner here.”
Her outburst drew the attention of one of the function organizers, who came over the see what the problem was.
“Nothing, nothing at all, Professor Cadaveer. This is a friend of mine from high school, he’s a member of Beta Alpha Psi at the University of Chicago. We were just having a discussion about the best of the big 5 to work for after graduation. His mother works for Deloitte, so he’s partial to them, but I’m still leaning toward Ernst & Young.”
As Professor Cadaveer walked away, Scott leaned toward Jessica and said, “Thanks, I owe you one.”
Jessica huffily turned away, and walked toward a group including Jeanne and some others of her accounting friends, leaving Scott standing alone by the refreshment table.
By the time Jessica left the meeting, it was dark outside. She jumped and screeched a little, when Scott popped out of the shadows and said, “It’s dark out, let me walk you home.”
“I’m fine,” she responded, snippily.
“All right, I’m going that way anyway, though. Can I walk with you?”
“Free country,” she muttered.
They walked along Commonwealth Avenue together, not saying anything.
When they got to the door into Warren Towers, she turned to walk in the door. She lingered inside the doorway for a minute, before popping her head back outside. Scott was walking back toward the business school.
“Hey, wait a minute,” she yelled to him. “I thought you said you had to walk this way, anyway.”
“I did – I had to walk you home. You were right in there, I treated you like a jerk. I’m trying to make up for it. Do you forgive me?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “Give me a call tomorrow, and we can talk about it.” She smiled at him, and handed him a business card.
“Jessica McPhee,” he said, pocketing the card.
“And what’s your name?” she asked. “Or should I just keep thinking of you as the Deloitte and Touche jerk?”
He grinned. “Actually, my name’s Scott. Scott O’Neal. But you can call me that D&T jerk, if you want.”
Eight months later, Jessica and Scott got an apartment together in Brighton. Jessica, Jeanne, and Celeste were still very close, meeting up with one another at least every other day. Scott sometimes joined in, sometimes didn’t.
The subway finally arrived at the Davis Square stop. Celeste and Jeanne flooded out with the rest of the crowd, up the stairs, and down the street to the Burren. The Burren was an Irish pub in the tradition of true Irish pubs. It was dim inside, with low ceilings and the faint smell of sweat and beer.
The place was crowded for Monday night – it was always pretty busy in the evenings, but Mondays were usually comparitively slow.
Jeanne and Celeste slowly walked through the bar, saying hello to the few people they knew, until they spotted Scott and Jessica at a booth in the back, near the stage.
Jessica looked exhaused. Celeste knew that she had been up late last night working on a presentation, because Jessica had called her at about 4 am to help her remember the word “collaborative.”
Scott, on the other hand, was looking indecently peppy for a Monday night after a day of work. He was doing his graduate studies at BU’s [### what was the building along storrow drive – I think it had something to do with physicss ###] But while Jessica’s work at Ernst and Young sometimes tired her out, it seemed like the more Scott worked, the more invigorated he became. It was funny sometimes to listen to them when Scott was particularly energetic, and Jessica particularly tired. Jessica tended to say things like “I really don’t have the energy for this,” while Scott was bouncing off the walls.
Celeste and Jeanne sat down that the booth, and had just enough time to greet Jessica and Scott before the music started. Monday was Singer/Songwriter night, so a lot of lockal individuals and groups came out to try their stuff. It usually mande for either a really good or really bad night, but never anything in between.
A waitress came to take their orders, and both Celeste and Jeanne ordered Harp, and Shepard’s pie, the house specialty. There were plenty of other Irish pubs in Boston, but Celeste was willing to swear that none had Shepard’s pie as good as at the Burren.
After the first set ended, Jessica said, “So I hear you got a new job, Celeste. That’s so great! What are you doing?”
Jessica hadn’t been nearly as bad as Jeanne for pressuring Celeste to apply at staffing agencies. She more or less figured that when Celeste was desparate for a job, she’d do what she needed to do to get one. Until then, there was no reason to stress out.
That was generally Jessica’s stand on everything, which made her a really relaxing person to be around.
“I’m indexing some history and research books for a preofessor and grad student working on a poli-sci book. The first one I need to index is one called “Studies in Government.” I started reading it on the train, and it’s pretty interesting. Sort of slow reading, but not much worse than Aristotle or Plato.”
“Not my idea of fun,” said Jeanne, “But I know you wouldn’t enjoy my job either, and you know how much I like it.”
“But you get benefits, and everything, right?” asked Scott.
“Yeah,” Celeste confirmed, “Full health benefits starting today, plus vacation and discounted classes at NU. I’m thrilled. The pay might not be great, but the benefits certainly are.”
“And how’s the professor and the grad studen that you’re working for?” Jessica asked.
“I actually didn’t meet the professor, he had some function or other to go to tonight, but the grad student’s great. His name’s Matt, he seems to know a whole lot about political science, and he seems really into this project. He also seems like the kind of person who doesn’t mind answering questions, which is great since I kneow next to nothing about political science, myself.”
Jessica’s eyebrows twitched. “And what’s this great grad student look like?”
Celeste rolled her eyes, and smiled at her friend. Now that Jessica was happy in a relationship, she wanted Celeste and Jeanne to be as well. “He’s ok looking. He looks like a grad student.” She shrugged.
Jessica raised her eyebrows again, and gave Scott the up and down once-over.
“Ok,” Celeste said, before Jessica had the chance to say anything more. “Scott’s the exception – Matt looks nothing like Scott. Which isn’t to say he looks bad, but what I actually meant was that he’s got the scruffy intellectual looking grad-student-ness.”
Scott wisely stayed quiet, but Jessica wasn’t quite ready to give it up, yet. “Glasses, no glasses; dark hair, light hair, balding; tall, short; built?”
Celeste rolled her eyes again, but played along. “Glasses, dark curly hair, a little too long, like he forgot to get it cut for a while. A little taller than me, maybe five nine. Definitely not running to fat, but I couldn’t tell if he was built, or if he’s just thin. Nice strong arms and hands, though.”
Scott sighed. It was going to be one of those nights. The girl-talk kind of night. Before things went any further, he excused himself and went to join some other guys in the front room of the bar watching baseball.
“So how did he dress?” Jeanne asked.
“Not you too!” Celeste exclaimed.
“Well, I don’t have a boyfriend, either,” she defended herself. “If you don’t want him, I might.”
Celeste rolled her eyes again, but obliged. “He was wearing some nice dark jeans, I didn’t notice the brand. And a purple striped polo shirt, untucked. And sneakers. Nothing terribly special about any of it, but it all fit him well.”
“So are you interested,” Jeanne asked.
“I don’t know,” Celeste answered. “I wasn’t before, but I hadn’t really thought about it, either. I’ll see him again in a couple of weeks, and I guess I’ll figure it out then.”
The girls paid for their drinks and food, collected Scott, and walked out into the chilly Boston fall evening. It had the smell of snow in the air, and it wasn’t even Halloween yet.
They all walked together to the T station, where Celeste and Jeanne boarded one train, and Scott and Jessica boarded another. Cveleste sat in her seat, musing over the idea of beng romantically interested in Matt.
Maybe if he had been a little less flustered and earnest in Starbucks, she might have been attracted to him rather than feeling a little older sisterly. One way or another, though, he was good looking. And, she thought, it was possible to construe the coffee and croissant in Starbucks as flirting, even if she didn’t quite mean it that way.
Was it possible that he was interested in her? He didn’t really seem it, other than as an employee/co-worker. He seemed confidant that she’d do a good job with the indexing, but then again, if she didn’t, they were only a month beind and they could find someone who would do a good job.
She shook her head in frustration – why did Jeanne have to go and put this into her head. Now she was going to blush when she ran into Matt the next time. Great.
“Her license says that she’s Celeste McKendrick, and gives her home address as an apartment in Winter Hill,” the dectective answered. “Does that ring any bells?”
“No, I have no idea,” I answered. “God, I’m never going to be able to get this out of my head. The poor girl. And Lizzie nosing her like nothing was wrong.”
The detective nodded, but didn’t say anything.
“Do I need to do anything else?” I asked. “I’d really like to go home now, if that’s ok.”
“Of course. We have your home address and phone number, so if we need anything we’ll be in touch.”
I tugged Lizzie to come away from the woods, and back onto the path, and we walked slowly down the remainder of the path, up out onto the street. I paused, momentarily considering taking the T home, but I really did feel like I needed a walk, so I guided Lizzie across the street, in the general direction of home. It was a long walk, but I needed to find some peace before I could start putting finding her behind me.
“Celeste,” I thought.
“Did she do it herself, or did someone do it to her?” I thought.
I knew that a slit wrist was generally an indication of suicide, but I didn’t see any blades or knives around. Plus, it seemed like an odd place to kill oneself. A nice hot bathtub seemed much more – appropriate, maybe?
Ugh, how could I be thinking this gory stuff? With a young girl just dead, a young girl that I found, and, my god, she probably had friends and parents and a boyfriend. She didn’t look like just another stoner from down there.
When I got home, I called the police station. “Could I speak to Detective Madison, please?” Detective Madison was the policewoman who had told me Celeste’s name.
“She’s not here right now,” I was told.
“Could you please have her call me?” I left my name and phone number with the officer.
It wasn’t a full half hour later when Detective Madison called. She sounded tired, but I had to know. “If you hear anything about a funeral planned, could you please let me know the details? I’d really like to go and take some flowers.”
“Of course,” she answered. “There’s nothing yet, but we just finished talking to her family and having the body claimed by her roommate, so I’m sure it won’t be too far off. It might be in Albany, though. That’s apparently where she’s from, she was just down here for school.”
“Sure,” I answered. “I just don’t think I’m going to be able to forget her, but I’d like ot try and help her family.”
“You did everything right,” Detective Madison responded in a monotone. “There was nothing else you could have done. Please give us a call if you think of anything relating to the case, though.”
I snapped my fingers. “Actually, there is something,” I said to her. “I was thinking on my walk home about whether she killed herself or if someone killed her, and I didn’t remember seeing any knives or razor blades around. Plus it seems like pretty weird place to commit suicide – a nice hot bathtub seems a whole lot more ideal.
Detective Madison made some non-commmittal sounds, so I took the hint that my idea was pretty close to worthless.
We said goodbye, and I hung up the phone. At least now, I’d know when the funeral was, even if I wasn’t actually able to go to it.
Celeste started “Studies in Government” in earnest the next day. She spent the morning in Jeanne’s reading chair, a big cushy one from Pottery Barn, with the book on one side and a notebook for questions on the other.
The three girls shared a dorm-room through freshman and sophomore years’, and moved into an apartment in Allston, one of the western suburbs, during their junior year. It was during that year that Jessica met and started dating Scott.
Jessica met Scott at the first Beta Alpha Psi reception. Jeanne talked her into coming to the meeting, it wasn’t normally Jessica’s kind of thing. An informational interview or networking meeting with a prospective employer was one thing, but networking with the same classmates you saw every day seemed like a waste of time. Jeanne convinced her to come by telling her that some recruiters from the Big Five accounting firms would be present.
So, Jessica decked herself out in her best business suit, accompanied by her briefcase and folio of resumes and business cards. When she walked into the lobby, where the Beta Alpha Psi reception was being held, her first move was to mark out the recruiters.
Scott was wearing khakis and a Deloitte and Touche polo. Jessica immediately gravitated to him, as the only representative of a big five firm that was present. She cornered him just next to the refreshment table, and forcefully offered her hand. He juggled the plate of food and cup of punch that he was carrying, and gave her a perfunctory handshake before turning back to his plate and cup.
“Ahem,” Jessica said, “I’m Jessica. I’m a junior here in the accounting program.”
Scott finished chewing, took a large swig of punch, and said, “I figured you were in accounting, this is the Beta Alpha Psi meeting, isn’t it?”
Jessica blushed, but wasn’t discouraged. “I’m considering working for one of the big five after I get my CPA next summer,” she said. “Could you tell me what it is that you do at D&T?”
He laughed. “D&T, aren’t you cool? Actually, you’re wasting your time. I’m a senior in the physics program. My mom works for Deloitte, that’s how I got the t-shirt. I came for the food. Now if you don’t mind?”
“Actually, I do mind,” Jessica said, getting angry. “It’s one thing to come and pose as an accounting major just for the free food, but do you really need to be so rude? I came over to ask you a perfectly legitimate question if you were who you’re pretending to be. Instead of explaining the situation, you do your best to insult me. Well you know what? I’m the one who belongs here, not you. Personally, I’d recommend that you go to the grocery store rather than shopping for your dinner here.”
Her outburst drew the attention of one of the function organizers, who came over the see what the problem was.
“Nothing, nothing at all, Professor Cadaveer. This is a friend of mine from high school, he’s a member of Beta Alpha Psi at the University of Chicago. We were just having a discussion about the best of the big 5 to work for after graduation. His mother works for Deloitte, so he’s partial to them, but I’m still leaning toward Ernst & Young.”
As Professor Cadaveer walked away, Scott leaned toward Jessica and said, “Thanks, I owe you one.”
Jessica huffily turned away, and walked toward a group including Jeanne and some others of her accounting friends, leaving Scott standing alone by the refreshment table.
By the time Jessica left the meeting, it was dark outside. She jumped and screeched a little, when Scott popped out of the shadows and said, “It’s dark out, let me walk you home.”
“I’m fine,” she responded, snippily.
“All right, I’m going that way anyway, though. Can I walk with you?”
“Free country,” she muttered.
They walked along Commonwealth Avenue together, not saying anything.
When they got to the door into Warren Towers, she turned to walk in the door. She lingered inside the doorway for a minute, before popping her head back outside. Scott was walking back toward the business school.
“Hey, wait a minute,” she yelled to him. “I thought you said you had to walk this way, anyway.”
“I did – I had to walk you home. You were right in there, I treated you like a jerk. I’m trying to make up for it. Do you forgive me?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “Give me a call tomorrow, and we can talk about it.” She smiled at him, and handed him a business card.
“Jessica McPhee,” he said, pocketing the card.
“And what’s your name?” she asked. “Or should I just keep thinking of you as the Deloitte and Touche jerk?”
He grinned. “Actually, my name’s Scott. Scott O’Neal. But you can call me that D&T jerk, if you want.”
Eight months later, Jessica and Scott got an apartment together in Brighton. Jessica, Jeanne, and Celeste were still very close, meeting up with one another at least every other day. Scott sometimes joined in, sometimes didn’t.
The subway finally arrived at the Davis Square stop. Celeste and Jeanne flooded out with the rest of the crowd, up the stairs, and down the street to the Burren. The Burren was an Irish pub in the tradition of true Irish pubs. It was dim inside, with low ceilings and the faint smell of sweat and beer.
The place was crowded for Monday night – it was always pretty busy in the evenings, but Mondays were usually comparitively slow.
Jeanne and Celeste slowly walked through the bar, saying hello to the few people they knew, until they spotted Scott and Jessica at a booth in the back, near the stage.
Jessica looked exhaused. Celeste knew that she had been up late last night working on a presentation, because Jessica had called her at about 4 am to help her remember the word “collaborative.”
Scott, on the other hand, was looking indecently peppy for a Monday night after a day of work. He was doing his graduate studies at BU’s [### what was the building along storrow drive – I think it had something to do with physicss ###] But while Jessica’s work at Ernst and Young sometimes tired her out, it seemed like the more Scott worked, the more invigorated he became. It was funny sometimes to listen to them when Scott was particularly energetic, and Jessica particularly tired. Jessica tended to say things like “I really don’t have the energy for this,” while Scott was bouncing off the walls.
Celeste and Jeanne sat down that the booth, and had just enough time to greet Jessica and Scott before the music started. Monday was Singer/Songwriter night, so a lot of lockal individuals and groups came out to try their stuff. It usually mande for either a really good or really bad night, but never anything in between.
A waitress came to take their orders, and both Celeste and Jeanne ordered Harp, and Shepard’s pie, the house specialty. There were plenty of other Irish pubs in Boston, but Celeste was willing to swear that none had Shepard’s pie as good as at the Burren.
After the first set ended, Jessica said, “So I hear you got a new job, Celeste. That’s so great! What are you doing?”
Jessica hadn’t been nearly as bad as Jeanne for pressuring Celeste to apply at staffing agencies. She more or less figured that when Celeste was desparate for a job, she’d do what she needed to do to get one. Until then, there was no reason to stress out.
That was generally Jessica’s stand on everything, which made her a really relaxing person to be around.
“I’m indexing some history and research books for a preofessor and grad student working on a poli-sci book. The first one I need to index is one called “Studies in Government.” I started reading it on the train, and it’s pretty interesting. Sort of slow reading, but not much worse than Aristotle or Plato.”
“Not my idea of fun,” said Jeanne, “But I know you wouldn’t enjoy my job either, and you know how much I like it.”
“But you get benefits, and everything, right?” asked Scott.
“Yeah,” Celeste confirmed, “Full health benefits starting today, plus vacation and discounted classes at NU. I’m thrilled. The pay might not be great, but the benefits certainly are.”
“And how’s the professor and the grad studen that you’re working for?” Jessica asked.
“I actually didn’t meet the professor, he had some function or other to go to tonight, but the grad student’s great. His name’s Matt, he seems to know a whole lot about political science, and he seems really into this project. He also seems like the kind of person who doesn’t mind answering questions, which is great since I kneow next to nothing about political science, myself.”
Jessica’s eyebrows twitched. “And what’s this great grad student look like?”
Celeste rolled her eyes, and smiled at her friend. Now that Jessica was happy in a relationship, she wanted Celeste and Jeanne to be as well. “He’s ok looking. He looks like a grad student.” She shrugged.
Jessica raised her eyebrows again, and gave Scott the up and down once-over.
“Ok,” Celeste said, before Jessica had the chance to say anything more. “Scott’s the exception – Matt looks nothing like Scott. Which isn’t to say he looks bad, but what I actually meant was that he’s got the scruffy intellectual looking grad-student-ness.”
Scott wisely stayed quiet, but Jessica wasn’t quite ready to give it up, yet. “Glasses, no glasses; dark hair, light hair, balding; tall, short; built?”
Celeste rolled her eyes again, but played along. “Glasses, dark curly hair, a little too long, like he forgot to get it cut for a while. A little taller than me, maybe five nine. Definitely not running to fat, but I couldn’t tell if he was built, or if he’s just thin. Nice strong arms and hands, though.”
Scott sighed. It was going to be one of those nights. The girl-talk kind of night. Before things went any further, he excused himself and went to join some other guys in the front room of the bar watching baseball.
“So how did he dress?” Jeanne asked.
“Not you too!” Celeste exclaimed.
“Well, I don’t have a boyfriend, either,” she defended herself. “If you don’t want him, I might.”
Celeste rolled her eyes again, but obliged. “He was wearing some nice dark jeans, I didn’t notice the brand. And a purple striped polo shirt, untucked. And sneakers. Nothing terribly special about any of it, but it all fit him well.”
“So are you interested,” Jeanne asked.
“I don’t know,” Celeste answered. “I wasn’t before, but I hadn’t really thought about it, either. I’ll see him again in a couple of weeks, and I guess I’ll figure it out then.”
The girls paid for their drinks and food, collected Scott, and walked out into the chilly Boston fall evening. It had the smell of snow in the air, and it wasn’t even Halloween yet.
They all walked together to the T station, where Celeste and Jeanne boarded one train, and Scott and Jessica boarded another. Cveleste sat in her seat, musing over the idea of beng romantically interested in Matt.
Maybe if he had been a little less flustered and earnest in Starbucks, she might have been attracted to him rather than feeling a little older sisterly. One way or another, though, he was good looking. And, she thought, it was possible to construe the coffee and croissant in Starbucks as flirting, even if she didn’t quite mean it that way.
Was it possible that he was interested in her? He didn’t really seem it, other than as an employee/co-worker. He seemed confidant that she’d do a good job with the indexing, but then again, if she didn’t, they were only a month beind and they could find someone who would do a good job.
She shook her head in frustration – why did Jeanne have to go and put this into her head. Now she was going to blush when she ran into Matt the next time. Great.
“Her license says that she’s Celeste McKendrick, and gives her home address as an apartment in Winter Hill,” the dectective answered. “Does that ring any bells?”
“No, I have no idea,” I answered. “God, I’m never going to be able to get this out of my head. The poor girl. And Lizzie nosing her like nothing was wrong.”
The detective nodded, but didn’t say anything.
“Do I need to do anything else?” I asked. “I’d really like to go home now, if that’s ok.”
“Of course. We have your home address and phone number, so if we need anything we’ll be in touch.”
I tugged Lizzie to come away from the woods, and back onto the path, and we walked slowly down the remainder of the path, up out onto the street. I paused, momentarily considering taking the T home, but I really did feel like I needed a walk, so I guided Lizzie across the street, in the general direction of home. It was a long walk, but I needed to find some peace before I could start putting finding her behind me.
“Celeste,” I thought.
“Did she do it herself, or did someone do it to her?” I thought.
I knew that a slit wrist was generally an indication of suicide, but I didn’t see any blades or knives around. Plus, it seemed like an odd place to kill oneself. A nice hot bathtub seemed much more – appropriate, maybe?
Ugh, how could I be thinking this gory stuff? With a young girl just dead, a young girl that I found, and, my god, she probably had friends and parents and a boyfriend. She didn’t look like just another stoner from down there.
When I got home, I called the police station. “Could I speak to Detective Madison, please?” Detective Madison was the policewoman who had told me Celeste’s name.
“She’s not here right now,” I was told.
“Could you please have her call me?” I left my name and phone number with the officer.
It wasn’t a full half hour later when Detective Madison called. She sounded tired, but I had to know. “If you hear anything about a funeral planned, could you please let me know the details? I’d really like to go and take some flowers.”
“Of course,” she answered. “There’s nothing yet, but we just finished talking to her family and having the body claimed by her roommate, so I’m sure it won’t be too far off. It might be in Albany, though. That’s apparently where she’s from, she was just down here for school.”
“Sure,” I answered. “I just don’t think I’m going to be able to forget her, but I’d like ot try and help her family.”
“You did everything right,” Detective Madison responded in a monotone. “There was nothing else you could have done. Please give us a call if you think of anything relating to the case, though.”
I snapped my fingers. “Actually, there is something,” I said to her. “I was thinking on my walk home about whether she killed herself or if someone killed her, and I didn’t remember seeing any knives or razor blades around. Plus it seems like pretty weird place to commit suicide – a nice hot bathtub seems a whole lot more ideal.
Detective Madison made some non-commmittal sounds, so I took the hint that my idea was pretty close to worthless.
We said goodbye, and I hung up the phone. At least now, I’d know when the funeral was, even if I wasn’t actually able to go to it.
Celeste started “Studies in Government” in earnest the next day. She spent the morning in Jeanne’s reading chair, a big cushy one from Pottery Barn, with the book on one side and a notebook for questions on the other.
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