I looked at him.
“Then why?”
“He turned down another position.”
“What position?”
“More money. Worse hours.”
I said nothing.
Arnold continued.
“Ben has been trying to get away from overnight surgery for years.”
I frowned.
“What?”
“He never told you?”
“No.”
Arnold sighed.
“He hates missing things.”
“What things?”
“Your daughter’s school events. Birthdays. Weekends. Your appointments. He complains about it constantly.”
I stared ahead.
Arnold continued.
“He thinks the Oregon position will give him fewer overnight calls.”
I looked at him.
“Then he should’ve told me.”
“Yes.”
“That’s all he had to do.”
Arnold nodded.
“I know.”
I drove home.
Ben was already there.
Olive was sitting at the kitchen table working on a school project.
She looked up.
“Mom?”
“Hi, sweetheart.”
Then she looked at Ben.
Then me.
“Are you guys mad at each other?”
Ben opened his mouth.
I answered first.
“We’re upset.”
“Because of work?”
I smiled.
“Adult stuff.”
She nodded and returned to her project.
Ben barely touched dinner.
After Olive went upstairs, he followed me into the bedroom.
“Can we talk?”
I turned.
“Yes.”
He stood several feet away.
“I should’ve told you.”
“Yes.”
“I was wrong.”
“Yes.”
“I was afraid.”
I looked at him.
