After dinner, I sent the children into the living room.
Toby chose a movie.
Finn wanted to sit on the floor, while Ruby took the end of the couch and tucked her feet beneath her.
I turned the volume up just enough to give them something else to focus on.
Then I returned to the kitchen.
Grant was standing near the sink.
Kelsey sat at the table with both hands wrapped around a glass of water.
The folded napkin was still beside her plate.
I pulled out a chair but didn't sit immediately.
"How long have you known?"
Grant looked at me.
"About what?"
I stared at him.
"Don't do that."
He lowered his eyes.
"The job."
"She interviewed last month," he said.
I waited for him to continue.
He didn't.
"Last month?"
"She told me she was applying."
"Applying is one thing. Accepting a job in Colorado is another."
"I know."
I sat down.
The kitchen suddenly seemed smaller than it had an hour earlier.
The refrigerator hummed behind me.
A little sauce had dried on the edge of the stove, and I found myself staring at it instead of looking at my husband.
"When did she get the offer?"
"Last week."
"And when did you learn she was leaving on Thursday?"
Grant rubbed the back of his neck.
"Friday."
Friday.
Saturday.
Sunday.
Monday.
Four days, depending on how he counted them.
He had spent those days eating breakfast with me, asking about my work, and talking about ordinary household things.
He had watched me pack lunches for his niece and nephew.
He had watched me help Ruby with her homework.
He had watched me move my work files around so that the children could have more room.
And he had said nothing.
"What was your plan?" I asked.
He shifted his weight.
"We were going to tell you."
"That's not a plan. That's a sentence."
Kelsey looked up.
"Megan, he was trying to find the right time."
I turned toward her.
"Did you ask him to wait?"
She pressed her lips together.
"I didn't want everyone worrying before I knew the offer was definite."
"When did you know it was definite?"
"Last week."
"And you booked the flight Friday?"
She nodded.
I looked at Grant.
"So by Friday, you both knew."
He didn't argue.
The silence was worse than a denial.
I took a breath and tried again.
"Why wasn't I part of that conversation?"
Grant pulled out the chair beside me but remained standing.
"Because I knew you'd have questions."
I looked up at him.
"Of course I would have questions."
"I didn't mean it like that."
"Then how did you mean it?"
He sat down.
He looked tired, although I had been the one working all day while keeping track of three children who needed dinner, clean clothes, and help with their schoolwork.
"I knew you'd be worried about how it would work."
"That is exactly why you should have talked to me."
He rubbed his palms together.
"Kelsey needed this opportunity."
"I understand that."
"She can't keep going the way she's been going."
"I understand that too."
"Then why are we fighting?"
I looked at him for a moment.
Because he had managed to turn my questions into an obstacle.
Because he was acting as though I had interrupted a decision that belonged to him.
Because the person who would be doing the daily work had somehow become the least important person to consult.
"We're fighting because you agreed to something that affects my life without asking me."
Grant exhaled through his nose.
"I told her we'd help."
"When?"
"A while ago."
I waited.
He glanced toward the living room.
I followed his eyes.
The children laughed at something in the movie.
I was grateful they couldn't hear us.
"How long ago is a while?"
"Before the flight."
"Grant."
He looked back at me.
"I told her we'd see what we could do."
I leaned forward.
"Did you tell her the children could stay here?"
He hesitated.
That hesitation answered the question before he did.
"I told her not to worry. That we'd figure it out."
I sat back.
There it was.
He hadn't merely kept the news from me.
He had given his sister reassurance about a decision that was never his to make alone.
"Did you tell her I agreed?"
"No."
"Did you tell her you hadn't asked me?"
He looked down.
"I didn't think we needed to get into all that before we knew the job was real."
I stared at him.
The words seemed to make less sense the longer I considered them.
He had apparently decided that my agreement could wait until after his sister had made arrangements that depended on it.
And now that the arrangements were nearly complete, I was supposed to discuss the details.
I looked at Kelsey.
"What did you understand him to mean?"
She shifted in her chair.
"I thought we could work something out."
"Did you think I'd agreed to keep the children?"
"I thought Grant would talk to you."
"Did you know he hadn't?"
She didn't answer immediately.
Then she nodded.
"Yes."
The kitchen went quiet.
I wanted to be angry with her.
Part of me was.
But I could also see the desperation in her face, and I knew she had spent weeks trying to change her circumstances.
That didn't make what she had done fair.
It only made the situation harder.
"I would have listened if you'd asked me," I said.
Kelsey looked at me.
"I know."
"Would you?"
She lowered her eyes.
"I should have asked."
It was the first thing she had said that made me feel she understood the problem.
I let out a slow breath.
"I want you to have a chance at this job. I'm not trying to stop you from going."
Her eyes grew wet.
"I can't afford to turn it down."
"I didn't ask you to."
"But I can't take the kids with me right away. I need somewhere to stay first."
I nodded slowly.
That part I could understand.
Finding an apartment in a new city wasn't simple, especially with children and a new job.
But understanding her situation didn't mean I could promise to absorb all of it.
"Then we need to talk about what is realistic," I said. "Not just what would make Thursday easier."
Grant leaned forward.
"We can manage two more weeks."
I turned toward him.
"You keep saying we."
"Because we're married."
"Being married doesn't mean you can promise my time to somebody else."
He looked offended.
I saw it in his face before he spoke.
"I'm not asking you to do everything alone."
I thought about the mornings when he had left for work while I was packing three lunchboxes.
I thought about the evenings when I was checking homework while answering messages from my own job.
I thought about the office I had given up and the files stacked beside our bed.
I hadn't complained.
That was the problem.
I had made the arrangement look easier than it was.
"You haven't asked what this will mean for my work," I said.
"I know you're busy."
"Do you know how many meetings I have scheduled this week?"
He didn't answer.
"Do you know which days Ruby needs to stay after school? Do you know when Finn's class lets out? Do you know what happens if I have a deadline and both children need me at once?"
Grant rubbed his forehead.
"We can work out a schedule."
"With whom?"
"All of us."
I looked at him.
"Then let's start with a question. Who is responsible for the children while Kelsey is in Denver?"
He glanced at his sister.
Kelsey stared at the table.
Neither of them answered.
I waited.
The refrigerator hummed.
The movie continued in the other room.
Finally, Grant said, "We'd be helping her."
That wasn't an answer.
It was a description of what he wanted to believe we were doing.
I stood up and took my glass to the sink.
"I need some time to think."
Grant rose too.
"Megan, don't make this bigger than it needs to be."
I turned around.
"I didn't make it bigger. You made the decision bigger when you agreed to take care of two children without talking to me."
He looked away.
Kelsey wiped her cheeks.
"I really am sorry."
I believed she was sorry that we were arguing.
I still wasn't sure she was sorry that she had assumed I'd say yes.
I didn't say that aloud.
Instead, I went into the living room and sat beside Toby.
He leaned against my arm.
Ruby watched me for a second before returning her attention to the television.
Finn was nearly asleep on the floor.
I brushed his hair away from his forehead.
They were children.
They had no control over the job offer, the flight, or the promises their mother and uncle had made.
Whatever happened next, I didn't want them to feel that they were the problem.
But I also knew I couldn't make a decision simply because saying no would hurt someone.
That night, after the children went to bed, I stood in our bedroom and looked at my work equipment.
My laptop was balanced on a narrow desk.
A folder lay open beside it.
I had a full schedule the next morning, followed by another full day, and another after that.
The children would still need breakfast.
They would still need school.
And Grant would still expect me to find a way to make everything fit.
I sat on the edge of the bed.
I wanted to believe my husband had made a careless mistake.
I wanted to believe he would wake up the next morning, understand what he had done, and admit that he should have spoken to me first.
Instead, I kept thinking about one sentence.
He had told Kelsey not to worry.
He had not told me there was anything to worry about.
Click here to continue reading: PART 3: The Children Were Watching Us More Closely Than We Realized, and One Quiet Conversation Changed What I Thought I Knew
One Ordinary Dinner Revealed That My Husband and His Sister Had Already Decided What My Next Several Weeks Would Look Like
Part 2 of 12
