It’s Always the Husband. Michele Campbell

flights of stairs. She stood outside the door to 402 for a minute, catching her breath and gathering her courage. As she rummaged in the envelope for her key, the door flew open, and a middle-aged woman rushed out, chattering in Spanish as she looked back over her shoulder.

      “Ma, watch where you’re going!” said a dark-haired girl, grabbing the woman’s sleeve to stop her from plowing into Aubrey. “And speak English.”

      It was the roommate with the glasses, except she didn’t have glasses anymore. Her pretty dark eyes and confident smile came as a surprise. She was intensely well groomed – perfect hair and makeup, cute capri pants and a starched white shirt – which immediately made Aubrey self-conscious about her crumpled traveling clothes and stringy hair.

      “Jennifer?” Aubrey asked.

      “It’s Jenny, Jenny Vega. My mother was just leaving,” she said.

      The mother swept Aubrey into a bosomy embrace.

      “M’ija, cómo estás? So happy to meet you. You come for supper Sunday, okay? I’m gonna make pasteles.”

      “She doesn’t want to come for supper, Ma.”

      Aubrey actually did want to – the hug had brought tears to her eyes, which she blinked back as she untangled herself – but she suspected it would be better for her future relationship with the cool and uber-well-groomed Jenny not to say so.

      “Why you so mean?” Mrs. Vega said to her daughter.

      “I’m not mean. It’s time for you to go, that’s all. See you Sunday. Love you.” Jenny kissed her mother dismissively and gave her a little shove.

      Mrs. Vega marched away, grumbling, and Jenny held the door open for Aubrey.

      “I’m Aubrey, by the way.”

      “I figured. No parents? Lucky you,” Jenny said, looking up and down at the hall.

      “I came all the way from Nevada, so—”

      “Oh, right. You said that in the letter.”

      “You got my letter? Why didn’t you—?”

      “I just got it a week ago. I was away all summer at this outdoor leadership camp thing in the Adirondacks.”

      “Wow. Cool.”

      “It was pretty lame actually. Looks good on the résumé though. C’mon in, I’ll give you the tour. You’re the last to show up, so you get the dregs, I’m afraid, but still, it’s nice. For a dorm room, anyway.”

      Aubrey picked up her duffel and stepped into an adorable living room. The suite was on the top floor, under the eaves, with hardwood floors and quaint dormered windows. She spun around, wide-eyed, taking it in.

      “Cute, right? The sofa smells though,” Jenny said, wrinkling her nose. Jenny herself smelled of some fresh, springlike perfume. “I can probably get us something better from my parents’ store. I’m a townie, if you haven’t figured that out by now.”

      “A – townie?”

      “You know, town and gown? I grew up right here in good old Belle River, New Hampshire, which would be the armpit of the universe if not for Carlisle. Born in the shadow of the college, as they say. But my parents aren’t connected to the college, far from it. They own the hardware store in town.”

      “That’s awesome. I’m jealous.”

      “Jealous of growing up here? Hah, don’t be. The college looks down on the townies, you know. Carlisle is a head trip. You’ll see. The people – I’m telling you,” Jenny said, rolling her eyes.

      “What do you mean?”

      “Kate, for example. She showed up first and grabbed the single, even though the housing letter says to wait and decide together who gets which room. So you and I are stuck sharing the double whether we like it or not. There’s a lot of that around here. You know, people all full of themselves, stepping on each other.”

      “Maybe she thought we wouldn’t mind sharing the double.”

      “Why wouldn’t we mind? Of course we mind.”

      “Well, maybe she didn’t think about it.”

      “Yeah, that’s the point.”

      “I’m sure if we talked to Kate . . .”

      “Oh, I tried. She just acted all vague and sweet, like she didn’t understand what my problem was. Bullshit. She knew exactly what she was doing. She thinks the rules don’t apply to her, and the fact is, they don’t. She’s Kate Eastman, you know, like Eastman Commons? Like President Eastman?”

      “President – who?”

      “Her grandfather or something, or maybe great-grandfather, was president of the college. Her father’s a trustee. Their name is on buildings, you catch my drift?”

      “She isn’t here now, is she?” Aubrey glanced around in alarm, worried about being overheard, and getting off on the wrong foot with this exalted personage.

      “Don’t worry,” Jenny said. “She ran off when I got in her face about the room assignment. But I’ll shut up about that now. You must want to unpack.”

      “I don’t mind, really. I’m just excited to finally meet you.”

      “Aw, sweet,” Jenny said, and Aubrey heard a note of condescension in her voice. But she was probably being paranoid.

      The double turned out to be a bright, spacious room with dormered windows and a skylight. Aubrey loved it but didn’t say so, lest she appear uncool. Jenny was being so welcoming, and a misstep from Aubrey might turn her off. The double had two of everything – matching twin beds, two wooden desks with chairs, two bookshelves, two modular wardrobes. Jenny had taken the side of the room with the nook for the bed and slightly more space. (Aubrey almost said something about that; by her own logic, shouldn’t Jenny have waited? But she held her tongue. Don’t rock the boat.) Jenny’s bed was made up with a lavender and white polka-dot comforter and piles of pillows in varying shades of lavender and purple. A bulletin board hung over the bed, crammed with colorful photos of Jenny with her friends and family. Over the desk, there was a second bulletin board, this one meticulously laid out with the orientation schedule and class list, all neatly highlighted in pink. The desk lamp had a shade that exactly matched the comforter cover, and under the bed and on top of the armoire, there were a bunch of cute plastic storage units – also lavender – that looked like they’d been hand-selected by an expensive decorator.

      “Your stuff is so pretty,” Aubrey said, taken aback.

      It had never occurred to her how rich people would be here. Even the townie girl was rich. Every dollar of Aubrey’s work-study money was earmarked for tuition. She’d better get a second job ASAP, if she wanted to keep up with these people.

      Jenny’s glance flickered over Aubrey’s ratty jeans and old Chuck Taylors, and the army surplus duffel on the floor.

      “Hey, you know, if there’s anything you forgot to bring, you should let me know, because we have a lot of extra stuff at the store,” Jenny said.

      She wasn’t trying to be unkind, but the pity in her voice was palpable. Despite herself, Aubrey entertained Jenny’s offer for a second. The frayed sheets crumpled up in the bottom of her duffel were pretty awful. She’d love some new ones, and a few cute plastic storage units, too. But she wasn’t a charity case.

      “No thanks, I’m good,” Aubrey said.

      “Oh, hey, I meant as a loan. Seriously, you’d be doing my parents a favor. The room décor items sit around gathering dust and taking up space. Customers don’t come in for them because it’s mainly a hardware store.”

      “Thank you, that’s nice of you, but I’m fine. I’m not into material things.”

      That