My phone was set to vibrate, which is why I could tell that I was getting lots of communications before the date even ended. As soon as I came into my apartment, I saw a total of 32 texts and emails, and two voicemails from Zayna and Keshondra. My friends. So awesome. So supportive. So damn nosy.
I sent out a basic email about the conversation and what we'd done for the date. The girls were thrilled to their marrow, judging from the responses I got back, plus tons of questions about what I was going to do. Not for the first time, I wished that we were all in the same place again. Strictly for the convenience of a debriefing like this, of course.
And what I did was that I dated him, of course. But our dates were heavy on conversation and going places, very light on physical intimacy. This year for Thanksgiving, I invited Will over for the celebration and there was some hanky-panky, but we didn't actually start sleeping together again until finals were over. He was going back to his family for the holiday, a pleasure since he'd always been playing games and had missed the celebrations with his entire family during his football career. I went home to Grandpa. I got a lot heavier questioning from my family this time around, mostly because I hadn't been open to sharing much with my parents about him the first time around. They were all very curious about him too. And for our respective graduations, Grandpa was going to take Stan and me on a trip together. We would pick the general destination and Grandpa would choose the details to surprise us, just the way I liked it. After a little discussion, we chose Africa. Neither of us had ever been, and there was a lot to do on the continent.
When I got back, though, Will was kind of shoved to the background as I prepared to defend my dissertation. I was a total stress ball even though I felt like I had a good grasp of the material; the defense had been pushed back twice. He was a champ, though, and didn't fuss at all. His cooking skills were not very advanced (not having the benefit of Grandpa's cooking lessons) but he brought me groceries, sent me pizzas, and brought carry out a lot. He was content to study for his classes sprawled on my bed while I paced around my living area, muttering to myself and consulting my copy of my work, creating my presentation, practicing. Periodically I pounced on him. Sex is a great stress reliever and he was most cooperative, never once complaining.
On the day I mounted my defense, he stayed the night before with me, making sure I got some sleep, ironing my blouse, shining my shoes, taking me to campus and leaving me at the door of the room, having run a lint roller over me and giving me a good luck kiss and a bottle of cold water. I was wearing the earrings he'd given me for my 21st for luck.
I went in, and the chair made a few introductory remarks, and I thanked my committee for the time and effort that they'd expended on my behalf. I set up a recording so that I'd have a record of the event, wanting to make sure that I complied with all requests and not sure of my ability to remember everything or write it down meaningfully. Following that was a presentation of my work, then the defense began. I'd had to redirect a few questions from a couple of people's own pet peeves or theories, but my advisor had reined in one professor whose questions were pretty much unrelated, and the time had actually flown by. I'd gotten to say a lot of what I wanted, but there was so much more that I hadn't been able to get to. My advisor said that was ok, though, that was what the next forty years of my career were for. I identified a couple of weaknesses and post-dissertation research plans. In some ways, it was less nerve-wracking than the exam I'd had to take about my topic in order to be admitted to my doctoral studies; this seemed to more about how I wrote it all up as what I said in the dissertation. There were some criticisms that seemed perfunctory, but what surprised me was the attention that the committee paid to my writing, suggesting changes to the wording. My prose wasn't deathless and perfect, I had no problem agreeing to the changes. There were no requests for substantive changes. I focused on being confident in my work but humble and not defensive, and found that it was more fun than I'd anticipated. Two hours after it had begun, I was asked to leave the room while the committee deliberated.
I chucked my empty water bottle into the recycling and waited. My antiperspirant wasn't proving to be up to the task, but at least you couldn't tell through my suit jacket. Then the door opened and my advisor beckoned me in. I'd passed, pending the revisions they wanted me to make. "Congratulations, Dr Knight," they said, and I almost passed out. I thanked them again, there were handshakes and smiles and congratulations, and I wobbled on out in to the sunshine. Will hustled up to the building as I stood squinting in the sun, trying to remember what I was supposed to do next. He kissed me in congratulations, and took me out to lunch so I could get my feet back under me. I was practically boneless with relief.
After that, I had a class to teach and office hours, then went home to collapse and check my phone. I had congratulatory texts and emails from my friends and family, and Carol, who was gearing up to defend her own dissertation, had questions about it. John was in a similar state, and I was glad that it was over for me. Will came over with dinner and a bottle of Champagne to celebrate, and I had the best night's sleep I'd had in months.
After that, I tore through the revisions as quickly as possible. I'd paid very close attention to the formatting requirements for the PDF so I didn't have to fix anything there. It was a really proud day for me when, just prior to the end of the quarter, I initiated the faculty review process.
I went off to spring break with a clear conscience and a massive feeling of relief. Spring break this year was in Connecticut. Will took me out to meet his family. His parents remembered me from his graduation, and I met his grandmothers (his grandpas were dead), a couple of aunts and uncles, and a few cousins. Nice people and it was fun to see a new place. We took a day and went down to New York City; Carol, freshly off the defense of her dissertation, met us and Zayna there and we had a great time.
When we got back, I had the welcome news that the faculty had fast tracked their review of my work and my dissertation was accepted. All I had to do was complete my work for Spring quarter, and the diploma and the title of Doctor were mine. I submitted the final copy of my dissertation for electronic publication and cried, I was so relieved and happy. UCLA doesn't require a physical copy anymore, but I sent it to the UC system bindery and got two physical copies made anyway, one for me and one for my advisor. After all the work I'd put in, I wanted something tangible to show for it, even if it was a 216 page doorstop that would need to be dusted. And I updated my job applications to reflect this.
Spring quarter was a lot happier than Winter quarter had been. I was in cruise mode, not having any classes to teach, and it was the least amount of work I'd put in at any time in grad school. I spent a lot more time with Will, and we had another special celebration when I was offered the job at AltaSea. The salary was more than I dared hope, the benefits excellent. So I was set. I was kind of weepy for awhile at all my good fortune. Will said that it was simply the payoff for my hard work and determination and predicted great things for me. He was having a busy and productive quarter and was doing the accounting for his fledgling partnership, enjoying life after football.
"I forgot how nice it is to live life without people wanting to tackle you all the time," he said once as I was making dinner. His brain seemed to be in good shape--there was no way to test for the post-concussive syndrome, but his doctors were aware of his concerns--but he did have a bit of a bad back. And his right knee had been surgically repaired, his left knee had had ACL surgery and been scoped, and his left ankle had also had work done from a sprain not unlike the one John had suffered in high school. I was glad he'd gotten out before the damage had gotten worse.
And before I knew it, it was time for graduation. This might have presented a bit of a problem, since Stan was graduating the same weekend. But the doctoral degrees were granted at a special ceremony on Thursday night, so while the timeline was tight, the family could be at both ceremonies.
My graduation regalia was spiffy as all get out. The black robe had bell sleeves, three broad blue velvet stripes with pointed ends on each sleeve that were bordered in gold piping, and a wide band of blue velvet, also edged with gold piping, down each side of the front opening and around the back of the neck. The cap was a cute octagonal shape and came with a gold-colored silk tassel. Feeling like I'd earned it, I splurged and got a tassel made from gold bullion. It looked more special and by god, this was a special occasion. The hood was the same basic black as the robe, much longer than the one from my masters degree, banded all around with gold, but with the royal blue velvet trim (which denotes the Ph.D) and lined with fine UC blue and gold satin. The satin lining had small amounts of UCLA blue at the corners and gold for the rest of it, unlike the masters hood, which had had chevrons.
I'd planned on wearing the same suit I'd worn to defend my dissertation (cleaned afterward) but Will had a surprise for me. The Saturday before graduation, we went to lunch and he took me shopping for my graduation present, a new suit. We found a real beauty, dark blue fine wool with a single button at the waist of the jacket, a beautifully shaped skirt that skimmed my figure but flared out gently at the hem, and a white waistcoat instead of a blouse. It would look perfect with the necklace he'd given me for college graduation. And there were fine leather pumps to go with it, a nice three inch heel, comfortable and elegant.
The Thursday night before the regular graduation was the doctoral hooding ceremony. Grandpa came down early for that with my parents; they also wanted to meet Will, who was also invited. The grandparents Knight didn't arrive until Thursday morning. Some of my fellow doctors weren't using their full allotment of tickets, so I was able to scoop up enough for everybody, barring my brother, who was stuck finishing up in Denver. The grandparents Knight took us all to dinner beforehand, asking me more questions about my new job (I started in August, so plenty of time to decompress and go to Africa) and grilling Will. The hooding ceremony is when we were full recipients of or doctorates and those enormous hoods were carefully placed around our necks, a time for individual recognition of our achievements. There was a high degree of pomp, with a processional, speakers, a keynote speaker, and we were called up individually for the hooding. It sounded ridiculous but was very moving. My faculty advisor placed the hood and arranged it perfectly, and as I exited the stage, I felt a profound gratitude that school was finally over at last and also kind of a wonder that I'd been able to achieve so much. I'd been in school my whole life aside from the first five years of my life, and it was time to see what real people did. There was a reception afterward where my family could meet my faculty and friends, and I was able to congratulate John and say hello to his family. Paul had taken extra time on his bachelors in order to stuff as many classes in as possible, he was interested in everything, and he'd be graduating over the weekend, so I was able to congratulate him too.
The next day everybody but Will went to the airport and we flew to Denver. It was a pretty short flight and Stan was at DIA to greet us; to mark the occasion, Grandpa had booked the two of us into the Brown Palace, the city's premier historic hotel. Mom and Dad and the other grandparents were at the Hyatt Regency, also downtown. We got a tour of the DU campus, (very nice, but I liked UCLA better), met some of his friends, and went to dinner. The grandparents waited until we'd ordered before handing us both cards that contained checks: Stan got $5000 for his Masters and I got $10 000 for my doctorate. It was a huge surprise but welcome. I wanted to move to a larger apartment when the lease on my studio expired and that would mean more furniture, maybe some upgrades, although I liked the stuff I had. The next day was Stan's graduation, and I clapped and whistled as he received his (smaller) hood. Our parent took us out for dinner afterward and also gave us checks, more modest than the ones from the grandparents, but those had been really pretty excessive. $5000 for my doctorate, $2500 for my brother. I smirked at him and he rolled his eyes. The next day we were back at the airport. The grandparents Knight were headed back to Florida; my grandfather was looking pretty frail. Mom, Dad, Grandpa, and I flew back to California, although I went back to LA and the others went to San Francisco and then to Duke's Crossing. Stan was packing up and driving back; we'd give him time to rest up before going on our big graduation trip.