Chương 9
"Yeah."
"To you?"
"Sometimes."
"What do you do?"
Oliver thought for several seconds.
"Get mad."
Kevin smiled.
"Excellent system."
"Then Miss Haley makes me sit on the blue chair."
Miss Haley was one of his preschool teachers.
Kevin had met her twice.
She wore bright earrings and had somehow convinced Noah that cleaning up blocks was a competitive sport.
"What happens on the blue chair?"
"You have to calm your body."
Kevin leaned back on his hands.
"Do adults get a blue chair?"
Oliver looked around the bedroom.
"That one."
He pointed to the upholstered chair beside the window.
Kevin laughed.
"Fair enough."
Oliver climbed onto the mattress beside him.
"Are you going to say sorry?"
Kevin looked at the floor.
"I probably should."
"Mom said you were bad at sorry."
The room changed.
Kevin's smile faded.
"She said that?"
Oliver nodded.
"When?"
"In the car."
"What else did she say?"
"That you use too many words."
Kevin stared at him.
A laugh escaped before he could stop it.
He could hear Claire saying exactly that.
She had accused him of turning apologies into legal documents.
He would qualify.
Explain.
Contextualize.
By the time he reached sorry, the injured person had forgotten what they wanted from him.
Oliver watched his face.
Kevin cleared his throat.
"Your mother was occasionally rude."
Oliver smiled.
"So say it fast."
Kevin nodded.
Oliver slid off the bed.
At the doorway he stopped.
"Dad?"
"Yeah?"
"Don't make her leave."
Kevin's chest tightened.
"I won't make the decision for her."
Oliver accepted that more readily than Kevin expected.
Then he disappeared into the hall.
Kevin sat still for a moment.
His phone buzzed.
The board meeting.
He stood, grabbed his jacket, and went downstairs.
Annie was helping Noah find his backpack near the front hall.
Mrs. Bell stood beside them holding a lunchbox.
Oliver was already wearing his coat despite the warmth outside.
Kevin slowed.
Annie did not look at him.
He could leave.
He could apologize later.
He could send a message.
He could use more words.
Instead he walked over.
"Annie."
She looked up.
Mrs. Bell immediately became interested in Noah's zipper.
Kevin glanced at the twins.
"Can I talk to you for thirty seconds?"
Annie hesitated.
Then she stepped toward the side corridor.
Kevin followed.
The corridor was narrow, lined with framed botanical prints Claire had bought at an estate sale.
Annie folded her hands in front of her.
Kevin remembered Oliver's instruction.
Fast.
"I was defensive."
Annie blinked.
Kevin continued.
"You were talking about the job, and I made it personal."
Her expression remained guarded.
"I'm sorry."
The silence lasted long enough for Kevin to begin mentally adding qualifications.
He stopped himself.
Annie looked almost suspicious.
"That's it?"
"Apparently I use too many words."
A faint change crossed her face.
"Who told you that?"
"Reliable source."
She glanced toward the hall.
Kevin lowered his voice.
"I don't want you to take the other job just because I reacted badly."
"I wouldn't."
"I know."
"Do you?"
"No."
Annie almost smiled.
Kevin put one hand in his pocket.
"The conditions are fair."
"All of them?"
"Some are inconvenient."
"That's not the same thing."
He nodded.
"No."
She studied him.
"I need the job to be real."
"I understand."
"And I need the boys to know I'm not replacing anyone."
"I understand that too."
"And if I stay, we tell them clearly what I am doing and what I'm not doing."
Kevin nodded again.
"Agreed."
Annie's eyes narrowed slightly.
"You're agreeing very quickly."
"I have a board meeting in twenty-three minutes."
"There he is."
Kevin smiled despite himself.
"Will you think about it?"
"I already am."
"Good."
He started toward the front hall.
Annie spoke behind him.
"Kevin."
He turned.
"If I stay, it can't just be because they're scared I'll leave."
He waited.
Her face had softened, but there was sadness in it now.
"It has to be because staying is healthy for them."
Kevin nodded.
"And for you."
Annie looked away.
The movement was small but unmistakable.
Before Kevin could ask, Noah shouted from the hall.
"Dad, we're late."
Kevin looked toward the sound.
Annie used the interruption.
"Your board meeting."
He let her.
Five minutes later he was in the back seat of the car with his laptop open and three messages from Martin waiting.
The driver eased through the gates.
Kevin tried to read the revised forecast.
He made it through the same paragraph twice.
The third time, he closed the document.
The gallery envelope was in his briefcase.
He had brought it without deciding to.
He took it out.
The restoration appointment reference number was printed near the bottom.
On impulse, he searched the gallery name on his phone and called.
A woman answered after two rings.
Kevin identified himself.
He expected confusion.
Instead, after he mentioned Claire's name, the woman went silent.
"Mrs. Hart," she said carefully.
"Yes."
"I'm her husband."
Another pause.
"I'm sorry."
Kevin closed his eyes.
"Thank you."
He had become expert at receiving those words.
"I'm calling about a restoration appointment."
"Do you have the reference number?"
He read it.
Keys clicked in the background.
The car turned onto the main road.
Traffic thickened around them.
"Yes," the woman said.
"I have the record."
Kevin waited.
"The item was never collected."
He looked down at the letter.
"You still have it?"
"We do."
"After seven months?"
"Our storage agreements allow for longer periods, especially when work is prepaid."
"Claire prepaid?"
"Yes."
Kevin glanced at the date.
"Can you tell me what it is?"
The woman hesitated.
"You're listed as an authorized pickup."
That surprised him.
"Then yes?"
"I can describe the record."
Kevin listened to more keys.
"It's a miniature portrait in a gilt oval frame."
"Of who?"
"The intake notes don't identify the subject."
"Can you send me a photograph?"
"I'm afraid not without verifying your authorization in person."
Kevin frowned.
"Why?"
May you like
"Mrs. Hart requested privacy restrictions on the file."
His fingers tightened around the phone.
