On Common Ground. Tracy Kelleher

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       There was a slight pause. “Is that alumnus or alumna?” Roberta asked, differentiating between the male and female varieties.

       Justin laughed. “Alumna. And my classics professor father would be proud of you.”

       “It’s you he should be proud of.”

       “Let’s not go there,” Justin said.

       “Tell me, the reason you’re hosting this prizewinning person is because…?”

       “Because I was the one who nominated her for the prize.”

       “And you did that because…?”

       “Because she does fantastic work in Africa and is totally self-sacrificing.”

       “I get the picture. She’s a saint. So why do I get the impression that there’s something more than what you’re telling me?”

       “Well, this is purely coincidental…”

       “Excuse me, Dr. Freud. Nothing is coincidental.”

       Justin didn’t bother to refute her statement. “She also happens to have been the ex-fiancée of my senior year roommate.”

       “Ex? Now this I got to hear more of. Have you seen her yet? Is she everything you’d hoped for?”

       Cupping the phone under his chin, Justin strapped on his watch and looked at the time. He hurriedly slipped his wallet into the back packet of his trousers and grabbed his blue blazer off his unmade bed. “Listen, I don’t have much time because, as a matter of fact, I’m just on my way to do some errands, then pick her up to take her to lunch with the university president.”