Arnold didn’t laugh.
That was when I knew something was wrong.
My smile disappeared.
“Arnold?”
He glanced toward the nurses’ station.
Two nurses immediately became very interested in their computer screens.
“What’s going on?”
“Nothing.”
“That’s not true.”
He rubbed his jaw.
“Chelsea…”
“What?”
He looked at me for a long moment.
Then he said quietly,
“Has Ben told you anything?”
My stomach tightened.
“Told me what?”
Arnold looked away.
“He’s leaving.”
The first thought that crossed my mind was that someone had died.
My voice came out smaller than I expected.
“Who?”
“The hospital.”
I almost laughed from relief.
“He’s leaving the hospital?”
Arnold nodded.
“He’s accepted another position.”
I stared at him.
“Where?”
He hesitated.
“Oregon.”
The word didn’t make sense.
“Oregon?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Six weeks.”
The paper bag suddenly felt too heavy.
I tightened my grip around it.
“Six weeks?”
Arnold nodded.
I looked at him, waiting for him to smile.
He didn’t.
“You’re telling me my husband is moving to another state in six weeks?”
“He was going to tell you.”
“When?”
“Tonight.”
I let out a quiet, humorless laugh.
“Of course he was.”
I looked down at the lunch bag.
The sandwich.
The apple pie.
