Friday, July 22, 1994

Kim’s eyes blinked open. At first, she was disoriented. She didn’t know where she was. There were unfamiliar shutters over the windows dispersing the early morning light. Turning her head to the side, she saw Edward’s sleeping form, and it all came back to her in a flash.

Kim drew the sheet up around her neck. She felt distinctly uneasy and out of place. “You hypocrite,” she silently voiced to herself. She could remember just a few days previously telling Edward she didn’t want to rush things, and here she was waking up in his bed. Kim had never been in a relationship which had proceeded to such intimacy so quickly.

As quietly as possible, Kim tried to slip out of the bed with the intention of dressing before Edward woke up. But it was not to be. Edward’s small, white, and rather nasty Jack Russell terrier growled and bared his teeth. His name was Buffer. He was at the foot of the bed.

Edward sat up and shooed the dog away. With a groan he fell back against the pillow.

“What time is it?” he asked. He’d closed his eyes.

“It’s a little after six,” Kim said.

“Why are you awake so early?” Edward asked.

“I’m used to it,” Kim said. “This is my normal wakeup time.”

“But it was almost one when we came to bed.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Kim said. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have stayed.”

Edward opened his eyes and looked at Kim. “Do you feel uncomfortable?” he asked.

Kim nodded.

“I’m sorry,” Edward said. “I shouldn’t have talked you into it.”

“It’s not your fault,” Kim said.

“But it was your inclination to go,” Edward said. “It was my fault.”

They looked at each other for a beat, then both smiled.

“This is sounding a bit repetitious,” Kim said with a chuckle. “We’re back to competing with each other with apologies.”

“It would be funny if it weren’t so pitiful,” Edward said. “You’d think we would have made some progress by now.”

Kim moved over and they put their arms around each other. They didn’t talk for a moment as they enjoyed the embrace. It was Edward who broke the silence. “Do you still feel uncomfortable?”

“No,” Kim said. “Sometimes merely talking about something really helps.”

Later while Edward was in the shower, Kim called her roommate, Marsha, whom she knew would be about to leave for work. Marsha was glad to hear from her and voiced a modicum of concern that Kim had failed to come home or call the previous evening.

“I should have called,” Kim admitted.

“I take it the evening was a success,” Marsha said coyly.

“It was fine,” Kim said. “It just got so late, and I didn’t want to take the risk of waking you up.”

“Oh, sure!” Marsha said with exaggerated sarcasm.

“Would you give Sheba some food?” Kim added, changing the subject. Marsha knew her too well.

“Your cat has already dined,” Marsha said. “The only other news is that you got a call last night from your father. He wants you to call him when you have a chance.”

“My father?” Kim questioned. “He never calls.”

“You don’t have to tell me,” Marsha said. “I’ve been your roommate for years, and it was the first time I spoke with him on the phone.”

After Edward got out of the shower and dressed, he surprised Kim by suggesting they go to Harvard Square for breakfast. Kim had imagined he’d want to go directly to his lab.

“I’m up two hours before I expected to be,” Edward said. “The lab can wait. Also, it’s been the most pleasant evening of the year and I don’t want it to be over.”

With a smile on her face, Kim put her arms around Edward’s neck and gave him a forceful hug. She had to stand on her tiptoes in the process. He returned the affection with equal exuberance.

They used Kim’s car since it had to be moved; it was illegally parked outside Edward’s apartment. In the square Edward took her to a student greasy spoon where they indulged themselves with scrambled eggs, bacon, and coffee.

“What are your plans today?” Edward asked. He had to speak loudly over the general din. Summer session at the university was in full swing.

“I’m heading up to Salem,” Kim said. “They’ve started the construction on the cottage. I want to check on the progress.” Kim had decided to call the old house “the cottage” in contrast to the castle.

“When do you plan to get back?”

“Early evening,” Kim said.

“How about meeting at the Harvest Bar around eight?” Edward said.

“It’s a date,” Kim said.

After breakfast Edward asked Kim to drop him off at the Harvard biological labs.

“You don’t want me to take you home to get your car?” she asked.

“No, thanks,” Edward said. “There’d be no place to park it here on the main campus. To get to work I’ll take the shuttle over to the medical area. I do it frequently. It’s part of the benefit of living within walking distance of the square.”

Edward had Kim drop him off at the corner of Kirkland Street and Divinity Avenue. He stood on the sidewalk and waved until she was out of sight. He knew he was in love, and he loved the feeling. Turning around, he started up Divinity Avenue. He felt like singing. What made him feel so good was that he was beginning to think that Kim felt affection for him. All he could do was hope that it would last. He thought about the flowers he was having sent every day and wondered if he were overdoing it. The problem was, he didn’t have a lot of experience with such things.

Arriving at the biological labs, Edward checked the time; it was before eight. As he climbed the stairs he worried he’d have to wait for Kevin Scranton. But his concerns were unfounded. Kevin was there.

“I’m glad you stopped in,” Kevin said. “I was going to call you today.”

“Did you find Claviceps purpurea?” Edward asked hopefully.

“Nope,” Kevin said. “No Claviceps.”

“Damn!” Edward said. He slumped into a chair. There was a disappointed, sinking sensation in his stomach. He’d been banking on a positive result and was counting on it mainly for Kim’s sake. He’d wanted to present it to her as a gift of science to help alleviate Elizabeth’s disgrace.

“Don’t look so glum,” Kevin said. “There wasn’t any Claviceps, but there was plenty of other mold. One of them that grew out morphologically resembles Claviceps purpurea, but it is a heretofore unknown species.”

“No kidding,” Edward commented. He brightened at the thought that at least they’d made a discovery.

“Of course that’s not terribly surprising,” Kevin said, causing Edward’s face to fall again. “Currently there are approximately fifty thousand known species of fungi. At the same time some people believe that one hundred thousand to a quarter of a million species actually exist.”

“So you’re trying to tell me that this isn’t a monumental discovery,” Edward commented wryly.

“I’m not making any value judgment,” Kevin said. “But it’s a mold that you might find interesting. It’s an ascomycete, like Claviceps, and it happens to form sclerotia just like Claviceps.”

Kevin reached across his desk and dropped several small dark objects into Edward’s palm. Edward nudged them with his index finger. They appeared like dark grains of rice.

“I think you better tell me what these sclerotia are,” Edward said.

“They’re a type of vegetative, resting spore of certain fungi,” Kevin said. “They’re different than a simple, unicellular spore because sclerotia are multicellular and contain fungal filaments or hyphae as well as stored food.”

“What makes you think I’d be interested in these things?” Edward asked. He thought they also looked like the seeds in rye bread. He brought one to his nose; it was odorless.

“Because it’s the Claviceps’ sclerotia that contain the bioactive alkaloids that cause ergotism,” Kevin said.

“Wow!” Edward said. He sat up straight and studied the sclerotium between his fingers with additional interest. “What are the chances that this little bugger contains the same alkaloids as Claviceps?”