Tom knocked on the door. From inside: “Come in.” He did. Peggy looked at him with a frown.

“My inbox is empty, Tom.”

“I talked to Ron already. Apology accepted, water under the bridge. His words.”

“I said in writing.”

Tom shook his head. “No. I don’t see the need. This is a foible being blown way out of proportion. Ron deserved an apology for the confusion, and he’s gotten one.”

“I thought I was clear.”

“Look, Peggy, you can take it up with my lawyer if you really want to, but I don’t see why you would bother. I heard you very well, and I swear on my mother’s grave I will keep my email completely clean and work-related from now on. Just like every other member of this faculty, right?”

“You’re bringing a lawyer into this?” Peggy watched him cautiously, her hands folded and still on her desk before her. Tom met her gaze, spoke slowly and reasonably.

“Not at the moment. I don’t see any reason to. This is a small thing. I don’t care much what you or Ron Mailer know about me. That’s my personal life, anyway, it shouldn’t be your concern. I misdirected an email, and I apologize for that, but, c’mon. I embarrassed myself a little. Fine. I’m an adult, I’ll get over it, so will Ron. That seems pretty straight-forward.” Tom folded his hands together in his lap and sat back in his chair.

Peggy’s face did the tight-lipped samba that said she wasn’t getting her way, but at first she said nothing. They looked quietly at one another for a moment, and then she shook her head as if to clear it, and her expression settled to a muted concern. She spread her hands out flat on her desk and spoke to him over the tip of her nose.

“Okay, Tom. We’ll drop it. But this does not just evaporate. I don’t want to run into anything like this ever again. I believe in this school, and I will not have it hurt by the recklessness and carelessness of any teacher or counselor. Am I clear?”

He nodded, contrite. “As crystal.”