Jazz with Ella

Excerpt

Jennifer swallowed her protest and asked instead, “Is it my teaching ability that’s a problem?”
“Honestly speaking, Mrs. White, though you lack the rigor necessary for academic research, your teaching ability is sound. Hoefert said as much to me just today.”
Chopyk fiddled with his glasses for a few seconds. He was a small man, not quite her lanky height and seemed dwarfed behind the antique oak desk. She willed herself to wait patiently.
“How shall I put it? I’m a bachelor, as I think you know, but that doesn’t mean I don’t believe in marriage vows.” Already she had an uneasy feeling where this monologue was heading. “Since the advent of the pill,” he shot her a quick look, “young women, even married women, have so much more freedom.”
“Well, we’re not kept chained in the kitchen,” she responded pertly.
He appeared not to have heard her but went on, eyes on the ceiling. “Just, please—if you’re going to share leadership of this trip—remember you are a mature woman and a professional academic.”
Mature woman? She was about to turn 30. She wasn’t ready for the old folks’ home yet. “I would always act with professionalism, if that’s what you mean…Has there been some suggestion that I haven’t?”
“It pains me to mention this”—though he didn’t look pained—“but word of your marriage break-up and consequent separation has circulated within the department with some vigour.”
“That’s my personal business,” she murmured.
“Not if we’re travelling together with a gaggle of adolescent students. Do you understand? You must be an example to them.”
At least the interview had cleared the air on that score. After that, while trip preparations got under way, there had been an uneasy truce between them, and she found she was looking forward to the opportunity to teach as much as she was looking forward to the Soviet Union.

As the plane bucked and rolled, Jennifer’s ears popped, and she recalled reading how dangerous it was for a plane to land during an electrical storm. Where were the emergency exits? One passenger, a sombre man who had embarked at Paris, appeared to be praying. Paul had closed his eyes though she was comforted to see that he was still smiling.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763246