Chapter 18

When something becomes too intense to deal with, it can be better to leave things unsaid. I slept a lot. I spent my days in darkness, yielding to the numbness that firmly held me since I’d been discharged from the hospital. I didn’t eat, didn’t drink, didn’t talk—I just wanted to sleep. Occasionally, the doorbell rang. But I neither had the strength to get up nor was there anyone I wanted to see. I just wanted to be left alone. I left it to Holden to get rid of people offering their condolences. I honestly didn’t care if he opened the door or not. Just so long as I didn’t have to talk to anyone. Day and night blurred into one. The hours passed like minutes, but at other times minutes would feel like days. The clock on my nightstand gave me a rough idea of the time, but eventually I ignored it altogether and just let the time pass. It would anyway. Whether I was awake or asleep, sad or happy. Time passed, and the world turned as if nothing had happened.

When something brushed my hand, I opened my eyes squinting. Holden sat beside me on the bed, looking at me. Worry was written across his face. Dark shadows ringed his eyes.

“Please get up,” he whispered. “Please.”

“I’m tired,” I answered, then rolled over and shut my eyes before I would fully wake up and have the pain overwhelm me. Again, I slept a small eternity.

“Annie,” he gently shook my shoulder. “You have to eat something.”

“I’m tired,” I said. I closed my eyes again and waited for him to leave the room.

“Annie,” he said, his voice distorted by sorrow and desperation. “Grace is here.”

“Let me sleep.” I pulled the blanket over my head, so I wouldn’t hear them talk. During that time, depression, post-traumatic stress disorder, and psychiatry were mentioned frequently. I paid no attention, shut down my senses, and slipped into another deep sleep.

When I opened my eyes again, I was in Holden’s arms. I heard him sob quietly as his chest trembled under my cheek.

“Come back to me,” he cried. “Please come back to me.”

I cautiously raised my head to look at my husband.

“Annie,” he said, his lips quaking. “P-please. P-please come back to me.”

It was only then, when I saw his face distorted by sorrow and pain, that I became aware of what I had done to him. He, too, had just lost a child. He, too, mourned our baby boy. Only to watch helplessly as I lost my mind. I propped myself up a little to place my arm around him.

“I am so sorry,” I whispered. Then we cried together.

“How long did I sleep?” I asked later, when we were together in the bathtub. My head rested on his chest.

Holden swallowed, “Three days.”

“Oh.” I couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“Are you in pain?” he asked a while later.

“No,” I answered. That was the biggest lie ever. Nothing else had ever hurt more, tormented me more, caused me greater suffering. “I feel no physical pain,” I specified.

Holden nodded knowingly, then cleared his throat. “The doctor says,” he started while washing my back, “the odds are good that you can become pregnant naturally again.”

I froze. “What?” I hadn’t thought about that. “The odds are good?” I repeated in disbelief. “What is that supposed to mean?” Holden surely meant to comfort me, but all I heard was I might never have children.

“Don’t worry about it,” he calmly said. “The most important thing is that you recover.”

“How can I not worry? I may never have children!”

“No,” he contradicted me. “The doctor said your odds are really good considering the seriousness of the . . . condition you suffered. Exceptionally good.”

“That’s supposed to calm me down?”

“I’m just telling you what the doctor said,” Holden defended himself and shook his head before whispering, “I shouldn’t have said anything, I’m sorry.”

“But you did.”

Holden took a deep breath. “I didn’t want you to get upset. I’m sorry,” he apologized again. “Darling, come. You must eat something now.”

Grace had brought a huge amount of food. She had dropped by every day. It was nicely packed in Tupperware and filled the fridge, but it was all untouched.

“I think this is chicken soup,” Holden said as he pulled out a container and gave me a questioning look.

When I nodded, he took a pot from the cabinet, dumped the contents of the container in it, and turned on the stove. Soon the warm aroma of chicken, vegetables, and noodles spread through the kitchen. We ate silently. Later, he put on The Little Mermaid and we snuggled together, wrapped in a wool blanket on the couch.

A warm bath, Disney, and chicken soup—the universal cure for worries of any sort. But, in this case, it took a little more.

Three weeks later I went back to work. As usual, I first went to my office—where Piper Tellon sat at my desk on my phone as if she had been born to it.

“No. Listen . . . I . . . no, I’m expecting the evaluation on my desk today, is that understood? I don’t care about your excuses . . . Are you even listening? How you do it is your problem . . . No. Today.” She hung up. Then she saw me standing in the door.

“Annie.” She jumped up from her chair. My chair. “You’re back? How are you? I . . . Paul told me what happened. I . . . I’m so sorry, Annie.”

“Paul?” I said, raising my eyebrows. Three weeks ago, she addressed my boss as Mr. Parker.

“If I’d known you were coming today, I’d have—”

“Who were you just talking to?” I interrupted her stammering.

“That . . . um . . . was Levinston. From the testing lab.”

I frowned. “That’s how you’re talking to Dr. Howard Levinston?” I asked in disbelief. “He’s been working here for over twenty years.” I was practically speechless. Who did this brat think she was to talk like that to one of the most experienced and reliable employees in the company?

A jolt shot through Piper’s whole body. She looked at me, crossed her arms, and pushed out her chin. “I still need the results from the Oxitoflu human trial today.”

Well, well, look at that. She’d overcome the fright from my sudden appearance rather quickly. And, unless I was mistaken, she was challenging me.

I smiled leniently. “Howard checks every test result as often and as thoroughly as he needs to be sure that there is no measurement error or other irregularity,” I explained calmly. “No person has ever been harmed by one of our drugs in any of his human trials. Which cannot be said of everyone in the testing department.”

“He also needs a third more time than the others for that,” Piper burst out.

I had to smile again. But condescendingly this time. “I’m back again. I’ll look after it. You can return to your desk, Piper.”

“Maybe you should talk to Paul first,” she replied snootily and spread her arms. “Because this is my desk now.”

I was enraged as I stormed into Parker’s office. Betty didn’t stand a chance of stopping me.

“Annie.” He got up, came toward me, and exuberantly shook my hand. “How are you? I’m so sorry about what happened! Good to have you back.”

“Thank you,” I answered. “I’m happy to be back as well. Did you know Piper Tellon has moved into my office? She said she discussed it with you.”

“Yesss,” he answered in a drawn-out way, scratching his head. “That’s true.”

“Didn’t we agree that I’d remain head of the division?”

“As long as you’d be on maternity leave, yes. But we had to improvise when the circumstances . . . changed.”

“The circumstances?” I asked, raising my eyebrows. Did he know what I’d been through?!

“Annie.” Suddenly he sounded businesslike, even authoritarian. “You were gone for three weeks. It was a week before your husband called and told us what had . . . happened. But at that point, we had no idea when or even if you were coming back.”

“I lost my child,” I said, feeling my eyes burn. “I don’t think three weeks of absence are out of line, all things considered.”

“Yes, of course, you needed time. But the Oxitoflu deadline was approaching. You know the timeline. That’s why Piper took over for you.” He looked at me earnestly. “She’s handled it well. Without being instructed by you. You need to know that.”

I clenched my teeth. Should I tell him how much time I had spent preparing the interim presentation, scheduled for the day before yesterday, and that the devious little bitch probably just submitted my work? Considering how enthusiastic he seemed about her, he probably wouldn’t believe me.

“So, how shall we move forward in your opinion?” I asked, trying to keep my tone calm and objective.

“Do you feel capable of fully returning to the job?”

“I wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

“Do you feel confident you can take over the division again?”

“Yes,” I answered, trying not to lose my patience. “I mourned my child. Now I’m back. So, how shall we continue?”

Parker shrugged slightly. “Maybe you and Piper can share the office?”

“Share?” I had to be careful not to become abrasive. Or sock him.

“The company drew up a contract with Ms. Tellon,” he said, suddenly becoming formal.

Ms. Tellon? What had become of Piper and Paul?

“That awards her half of the division’s management. That was her condition.”

“You’re letting me go?”

I’d always been very professional at my job. Never got into gossip, quarrels, or shenanigans. Never discussed private matters. Strict separation of work and home—that was one of my fundamentals. But at this moment, I was personally so pissed off that I was about to lose my professionalism and bitch-slap my boss.

He immediately raised his hands. “No. Of course not. We kept the other half of the position open for you. We were hoping you’d be back soon.”

“Oh. How nice of you.” My voice was dripping with sarcasm.

Parker’s eyes narrowed. OK, I’d gone too far. The boss part was about to emerge.

“You will have to share the job with Ms. Tellon,” he said in a commanding tone. “Fifty percent management, fifty percent lab work. That applies to both of you.”

For a moment I considered dropping everything, telling Parker to kiss my ass, calling Piper an ungrateful bitch, driving home, and crawling under my covers. But I loved my job too much for that. Also, everything at home reminded me of what I’d lost. The unfinished nursery, the crib that had been Holden’s as baby and which he freshly painted for our baby, the pregnancy and parenting books . . . Work was a good distraction. And I wouldn’t give up that easily.

Watch your step, college girl!

“We need to talk about dividing duties,” I said when I was back in my, oh, pardon me, I mean, our office.

“Obviously, as I was able to determine this morning, you lack any talent for interfacing with other divisions. I will exclusively handle those discussions.”

“You are no longer my superior,” Piper snapped back.

I took a step toward her, straightened myself, and told her with a serious expression. “I hired you. Do not forget that.”

Some convincing, and some outright intimidation, was required before we had divided duties between us. We split the technical area. I claimed employee supervision and interfacing for myself—I just couldn’t have her turning off everybody and destroying my carefully curated contacts. But Piper hogged presentations to the executive and any other potentially prestigious task. I could live with that even though it was a blow to my self-esteem. The most difficult item was where I’d sit in future. In three weeks, Piper had made herself so at home in my office it was as if it had always been hers. In the end, I gave in and occupied the small intern’s desk in the corner. In return, she spared Howard her abuse.

My first official act was to circulate a memo in which I asked all my colleagues not to talk to me about what had happened. Most respected that. But the pitying looks I met everywhere were almost unbearable.

Because I hadn’t been in the lab for some time and, more importantly, because I didn’t want to let Piper totally outrank me, I usually worked late into the night. Holden was in the same boat. Several things had gone wrong at his office during his absence, so he had to straighten them out. We hardly ever saw each other. I even had my supper delivered to the office, grabbed a bite at some fast-food drive-through, or skipped eating altogether.

By June, weeks had passed during which we said little more than “Good morning” or “Good night” to each other. Sometimes there wasn’t even time for a proper kiss. To top it all off, on our first free Saturday in an eternity my mother-in-law, of all people, stood outside our door. At eight thirty in the morning!

“Good morning, Angela,” I greeted her drowsily. “Come in, we just got up.” We, or at least I, hadn’t heard from her since losing the baby. She had probably lain in wait until everything looked normal again from the outside, so she’d be able to fully reclaim her son. I wondered what she would be on about this time. A defective headlight? A letter from the IRS she didn’t understand? Or did she just need to complain again to someone about aging?

“Good morning, Anna-Marie.” No one other than Angela regularly called me by my full name. Even my mother—who had picked it, after all—only very rarely used it. She eyed my sleepwear: an old pair of Holden’s boxers and an oversized T-shirt with the caption Beer made this gorgeous body. That got me the first sideways look when she walked past me into the kitchen.

“Hi, Mom.” As always, Holden kissed his mother on the cheek, which she received by extending her chin. Then, she turned to the dishwasher, which he was starting to empty.

“My, you’re being busy,” she snarled disapprovingly. Things then took their inevitable course. “This would have been unthinkable in the past,” she said.

I had heard this damned line so often from her scarlet trap I could have lip-synced it.

“What would have been?” I asked after taking a deep breath—I knew exactly what she was alluding to. From there, things unwound as they had to.

“That a man would do housework,” she intoned gravely. “That used to be women’s work.”

I felt like laughing out loud. This from a woman who had abandoned her husband and child.

He was only six years old, you self-absorbed piece of shit!

Holden caught my eyes, pleading with me not to get sucked in. But I couldn’t help it. I felt it would suffocate me if I didn’t let it out.

“I’m not the maid, Angela,” I started out calmly. “I work. Full time. I’ve got a Harvard degree and am running a lab with thirteen employees. I’ve just finished a sixty-hour week. Surely, it’s not asking too much to share the housework, is it?”

She glanced sharply back and forth between Holden and me. He kissed her on the cheek again and changed the topic. I was fuming with rage.

“Why don’t you say something to her?” I asked as soon as she was gone.

He shrugged. “What am I supposed to say?”

“No idea,” I said. I was riled up. “Just something. Anything. She’s your mother, not mine.”

“What do you expect? She’s sixty-five, just a few years away from seventy.”

“Well thank you for this demonstration of your math prowess.”

He sighed. He seemed to consider the issue a nuisance. “I was just trying to say that she’s too old to change. I really don’t get why you always let her wind you up. Just ignore her.”

“Ignore her? Are you serious? She comes in here and the first thing she does—after not seeing us for weeks, mind you—is tell me what a rotten wife I am. Nothing about the baby, no I’m sorry about what happened, no Is there anything I can do to help. Just nothing.”

“She was here,” he objected, “when you . . . slept.” With which he meant my three-day waking coma after coming home from the hospital. “She asked about you, wanted to know how you were.”

“I guess that’s better than nothing,” I mumbled. “But she hasn’t been back since. Didn’t ask how either of us were doing. Not a word about the baby.”

“She’s not very good at handling that kind of thing,” he excused her behavior.

“She’s your mother, damn it! And that was . . . her grandchild.” My voice cracked with the last two words and I teared up.

“Oh Annie,” he came toward me and put his arms around me.

“How can she understand? She doesn’t know what maternal love is,” I bitterly pronounced. “No mother who loves her child will leave it behind.”

Holden looked at me as if to say: Does this have to be now? I didn’t intend to hurt him, but I was in turmoil inside. I couldn’t stop myself. Even at the risk of hurting him.

“Why aren’t you mad at her?" I burst out, incapable of understanding.

“Because she’s my mother,” he replied. Calmly but firmly.

“But—she left you when you were six! She abandoned you. And now she only drops by when she wants you to do something for her. That’s all you’re good for. Repair her car, put up her curtains, check her insurance policy. That woman only takes—and gives nothing back.”

Holden clenched his teeth. His mood darkened.

“Do you really think you have to tell me that?” He let go of me. “Do you honestly believe I can’t figure it out myself?” A mature yet sober sadness resonated in his words.

“Then why aren’t you mad at her?” I repeated my question, still incapable of understanding.

“She’s my mother,” he said loudly, giving me to understand that the subject was finished as far as he was concerned. But it wasn’t for me by a long shot.

“She’s a horrible mother!” I shouted.

“She’s the only mother I have!” he shouted back.

My stomach contracted at his words. I didn’t want to hurt him, but this had to be settled.

“You’re right—Angela is the only mother you have. You have no choice but to deal with what you were dealt. But that doesn’t mean she can just waltz in here whenever it suits her and cut me down at every opportunity. I’m your wife, damn it! Do something about her!”

“She means no harm. Just don’t listen to her.”

“But I can’t just not listen to her. Will you finally get that? It’s not OK for her to talk to me like that in my own home. And on top of that, you do nothing whatsoever about it.”

“What can I do about it?”

By then we were shouting so loudly I was starting to worry the neighbors were going to call the cops.

“Fucking think of something!”

“For shit’s sake, don’t be so touchy!” he yelled. Then he grabbed his running shoes and walked out, leaving me standing there.

It could have been admirable that he was able to love his mother even after everything she’d done to him. It really could have been if he were so lenient and compassionate toward all fellow human beings. But he wasn’t. Holden had two sets of standards.

We didn’t say a word to each other for three days. I went to the lab extra early, so our paths wouldn’t cross in the morning. I stayed even later at night because I just didn’t want to go home.

It was already eight on Wednesday night when the last colleague finally went home. I grabbed myself a coffee and sat down at my desk to finish writing a protocol. When I was finally done, I opened the browser and logged on to Facebook—which I rarely did at work. I scanned over the news absentmindedly, laughed at a cat video, and left a short birthday message on a former fellow student’s page. Then I saw the small 1 over the “Friend Requests” icon, and my heart skipped a beat.

Seth Yellen has accepted your friendship request.

The sentence flashed at me like a neon light. Why now? It must have been years since I sent the request. Yes, shortly after his sister’s death. For a while, I checked regularly to see if he’d accepted or answered my message. I had deleted the request and resent it. But even then, nothing happened. Then I forgot—forgot him. So why did he confirm now? I took another sip from my cup, noticing my hands were trembling. Suddenly, I had the sneaking feeling of doing something forbidden. I furtively looked around. Turned my head to the left and the right. Nobody was to be seen. I gulped and clicked on Seth’s profile.

Wow! He’d gotten around. Except for his profile photo, he hadn’t posted any pictures. But he was tagged in more than a hundred. I moved closer to the screen as I clicked through one after another. In many he appeared with friends; in some he held a girl in his arms—different girls. Though, the most recent pictures showed him with the same one—a dark-haired beauty with luscious lips and big eyes. I felt a sting in my chest. Jealousy? I quickly clicked through the pictures. Seth’s travels had taken him across Europe. London, Rome, Paris, Berlin, Brussels, Prague, Munich for Octoberfest—it seemed as if there wasn’t a place in Europe he hadn’t been. The sting in my chest faded and turned into something else. Something oppressive. Envy? Yes, probably. What had I seen of the world? I could only dream of Europe. I’d never left this continent. Other than Lakewood and Boston, I only knew the mountain cabin in Canada, where we’d gone for holidays when I was little. Holden wasn’t into traveling. It took weeks of convincing before we went anywhere. Even so, we only got as far as Nova Scotia and Long Island in our seven years together.

The small green dot next to Seth’s name pulled me out of my travel envy.

He’s online. Now. At this very moment.

I felt hot. Caught in the act. As if he knew I was in the process of obsessively riffling through his profile. I stared at the dot asking myself where he was just then. What computer? In which city, which country? Was it early in the morning or late at night? Was he alone? The mouse moved over the Messenger icon as if my fingers had a mind of their own, my pointer clicked on it and before I came to my senses, I’d typed in Hi and pressed “Enter.” I couldn’t stop staring at the screen. I’d moved so close that my nose almost touched the monitor. My eyes widened as I was trying to conjure up the words Seth Yellen is writing. As if I could get him to answer me by telepathy. Then, suddenly, the green dot disappeared. My shoulders sank. Seth was gone.

It was already dark when I got home. Holden was asleep on the couch, snoring evenly. The TV was on. When I entered the living room, he sat up with a start. His eyes were red with fatigue.

“Hi,” he said in a drowsy voice. “When did you come home?”

“Just now.” I sat down next to him.

“Are you hungry? I made dinner.”

I nodded. “Have you eaten?”

“No,” he quickly said. I realized that he must have been waiting for me but had fallen asleep. Guilt hit me at once. I hadn’t given him an opportunity to talk to me in the last few days.

“You’ve had to put in long hours recently,” he said tenderly.

I nodded even though it was a lie.

Holden got up, and I followed him into the kitchen. The table was already set, the salad was in a bowl waiting for its dressing, and a pan was on the stove ready to be reheated.

I was touched, and I had a guilty conscience. “What are we having?” I asked in a deliberately casual tone.

“Coconut rice with veggies,” he said, but when he put the plate with aromatic curry in front of me, I saw what an effort he’d put into it. He’d probably found the recipe online and gone shopping for the ingredients. We certainly didn’t have shiitake mushrooms, snow peas, and fresh ginger around.

“This is really good,” I raved with a full mouth, finally seeing Holden smile again. I looked at him for a long time, and he looked back into my eyes. I’d almost forgotten how blue his were. Even reddened, they beamed at me with such intensity that I remembered in an instant why I’d fallen in love with him. Suddenly tears glistened at me.

Oh my God, he’s crying! He never did that. Never!

I immediately got up, went over to him, and hugged him tightly. He pulled me on his lap and buried his face in my chest. I’d been so self-absorbed I hadn’t noticed my husband’s feelings.

“I love you,” he said, looking at me.

I wrapped my arms even tighter around him. “I love you, too,” I whispered in his ear.

Holden looked up at me, took my face in both hands and kissed me. We made love that night. Twice.

“How late will you be working today?” Holden asked me the next morning. It had been weeks since we had woken up together.

“I could be back about six. Why?”

“It’d be nice to spend an evening together.”

I smiled gently but also sadly. Our relationship was a delicate sprout at this moment. So delicate even a small breeze would uproot it. We had to tend to it carefully. Protect it from wind and cold so it could thrive.

“Yes, that’d be lovely.”

When he looked at me, what I saw in his eyes was an awareness of how fragile our love was and his hope that we’d make it.

“How are things going with Piper?” he asked.

I groaned. “It’s awful. Because I was only verbally assigned the division management, but she insisted on having her fifty percent put into the contract, she now holds the better cards. I tell you, this is not going to end well. Something has to give. One way or another. Parker will have to choose one of us. I can’t participate in this charade forever.” I shook my head. “I’d like to just let her have a go at it, you know. I’d take any bet she’ll have every colleague and employee up in arms in no time. Not a month would pass before people would run to Parker complaining.”

“So why don’t you?”

“Because I painstakingly built it all. I can’t just let her rampage. What if someone quits because of her? Right now, I’d be blamed because we are sharing the position; plus, I am responsible for everything that is decided, done, or said in our office.”

“What does Parker think about it?”

I snorted. “The two of them went for lunch yesterday.”

Holden wrinkled his nose. “That doesn’t sound good.”

I sighed. “It’s not. It has to be resolved somehow.” I was more than right about that, but I had no idea what solution my boss had in mind.

“It’s for you.” Piper handed me the receiver of my, her . . . my former telephone.

“Hello, Annie,” Betty, Parker’s secretary, greeted me. “I’m sorry. I don’t know which extension to use to reach you.”

“Don’t worry.”

“Mr. Parker would like to discuss something with you. He asked me to arrange a meeting. Today. He has time at two thirty and four fifteen.”

I checked my calendar. “Four fifteen is good,” I said, starting to brood over what it might be.

“Annie, please come on in. Sit down.” Oh no. Whenever Parker greeted me exuberantly, he wanted something from me. The business with Piper wasn’t going to be resolved in my favor, that much I was sure of. I still wasn’t nervous. I was one of his best employees. My numbers spoke for my work. Even though he regularly lunched with Piper—even if she gave him blow jobs under the desk during lunch breaks—he couldn’t just get rid of me like that. I had a contract. If he did try, it would be expensive. I leaned back to listen to what he had to say.

“We’re going to start a new lab in Seattle. I’ve recommended you as the project head.”

He got straight to the point.

“Seattle?”

“Yes, you’re from around there, aren’t you? Tacoma, or thereabouts?”

“Well, yes, Lakewood but . . .”

“Excellent, then you can spend a bit more time with your family.”

“With my family?” I spared him a detailed explanation of how happy I was to be three thousand miles away from my mother. But my tone already revealed that this was not a winning argument. His look told me he had understood. “With all due respect, Paul, my family is here. My husband is here, and my baby is buried here.”

He swallowed and looked at me again. “It’d only be for a few months. Until everything is up and running over there.”

I looked at him uncomprehending.

“It’s a huge opportunity for you,” he said as introduction to his next argument. “Of course, you’ll get a raise. And when you return—this has already been approved by the chief—we want to offer you the management of the entire business division.”

My eyes widened. “This entire division?” I said perplexed. “But that’s your job.”

Parker nodded satisfied. “Something is coming up in executive management for me,” he proudly explained, straightening his tie. “But that’s not official yet.”

"Oh, wow. Then, well . . . congratulations.”

He grinned. “And I couldn’t imagine anyone better suited for this than you.” He sounded as if he meant it.

It was all so sudden, it overwhelmed me. “That’s really very nice of you . . . but—”

“Annie,” he interrupted me in a calm voice. “It’ll take ten to twelve months before I can move over to my new position. And we both know that your current situation is exceedingly difficult.”

Yes, owing to whom?

“So, here’s what I propose: go to Seattle, set up that lab, gain some additional experience, and when you return, we’ll start the transition.”

I looked at him for a long moment. “Just so there are no misunderstandings. Is this job . . . ,” I spread my arms to encompass the entire office, “tied to Seattle? Is that a precondition?”

Parker paused for a moment. “Yes,” he conceded. “But I don’t want to pressure you with it.”

Yeah, sure . . .

“I need you there, Annie.” Aha, we’d gotten to begging and flattery. He was running out of arguments. “You are our best biologist. We need you to train the new employees and set up the lab.”

I thought about it. Parker was right. Objectively considered, I was the best choice. Also, what a tempting thought to be away from Piper and then come back to be her boss once again. But what about Holden?

“How long?” I asked. The sparkle in Parker’s eyes once I showed some interest did not escape me.

“Three, maybe four months,” he answered and quickly continued, “You’ll get another ten percent plus expenses.”

“And when I get back?”

“No expenses but you’ll keep the raise. Until you switch to division management—then your salary will be renegotiated.”

“Will you confirm that in writing? The matter of the division management? And that Seattle is for a limited time only?”

“Of course.”

“Four months is a long time.” I was thinking out loud.

“You don’t have to give me your answer right now,” he quickly countered. “Discuss it with your husband. Let me know in the next two weeks.”

I nodded slowly. “When will it start if I agree?”

“In January.”

“So, six months from now.”

He nodded, then we looked at each other in silence.

“I’ll let you know,” I said, then I shook his hand and left the office.

“Parker offered me a job,” I said to Holden over supper.

“A job?” He seemed surprised. “But you’ve already got one.” He smiled.

“A better one. At least better paid. Another ten percent.”

“Another ten percent, wow. When will you start?”

“I haven’t yet agreed. There’s a catch.” I hesitated for a second. “The job’s in Seattle.”

Holden almost spilled his beer. “Seattle? Did I hear that right?”

I nodded. “But it’s only for three or four months. And it doesn’t start until January. I’m supposed to set up a new lab there and train the employees. When I get back, I’m supposed to get Parker’s job. Division management.”

“When you’re back?” Holden repeated. “That almost sounds like you’ve already made up your mind.”

“No. I wanted to discuss it with you. We could use the money and . . .”

“Don’t pretend this is about money. We don’t need it that badly.”

“No, we don’t but it’s still a fair bit. And I can’t knock becoming division manager, to be honest. It’s a huge opportunity for me.”

He looked straight into my eyes. “Do you believe they’ll just let you go again after a few months? You know what it’s like, Annie. Three or four months will turn into six, then, before you know it, you’re running the Seattle lab, and you never come home again.”

“Parker assured me that it’ll only be three to four months. Until the lab is up and running. He’s even put it in writing.”

Holden crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. “Am I just imagining it or are you trying to talk me into believing Seattle is a good idea?”

I shrugged. “I’m not sure myself, but . . . maybe it’d be good for us. After the baby . . .”

“Don’t put it on the baby, Annie.”

He rarely used my name like that.

“What do you mean, Holden?” I answered pointedly and leaned toward him. “Do you think I should be over it by now?”

“I didn’t mean it that way.” He took a conciliatory tone. “I’m just asking myself if the real reason why you are seriously considering this is because of our problems.”

“Yes, I did think about that,” I admitted.

“Do you believe we’ll solve them by running away from each other?”

“Who says I’m running away? But . . . ,” I took a deep breath, “maybe a little distance would be good for us.”

“A little distance? That’s three months and three thousand miles. To me that sounds more like a separation than a little distance.”

“That’s nonsense.”

He angrily stood up, clenched his teeth together, and stared at me. Then he turned around. “I’m going running,” he hissed and slammed the door on his way out.

“Now who’s running away?” I called after him.

After clearing off the table, I took a long bath, and went to bed early. The rustling of the covers woke me up,’ and I felt Holden’s chest against my back. He put his arm around me, while breathing deeply in and out.

“I love you,” he said quietly.

I turned toward him and looked at him.

“I love you, too.”

“I’m sorry. But please don’t go to Seattle.”

“OK.”