I shouldn’t be talking about this. Rumors are rumors are rumors. No matter who utters them, no matter who starts them. When the truth is absent there is nothing left but fiction. Fiction without fact is false, Even so, even still, I can’t stop thinking about Atlanta, Georgia. What’s it like there? Will I like the weather? Could I be a southern belle or could I be setting myself up to live in southern hell? Where’s the damned ocean?
Kisa has been pulled aside and with the simple words of “I’m Not Supposed To Tell But…” has been pulled apart. Muttered under breath, spoken from the side of a meaningful mouth, hushed and low, whispered you have to go. Stay and be fired. Go and fly. In a year’s time, you decide. Double pay, say Atlanta and you stay.
Throughout Indy’s illness Kisa kept quiet. Why worry me with work, or lack there of? Why ruin my week with the weight of a rumor? But, leaking out it came. In fits and starts, in dribbles and drabs Kisa came clean. January. We’ll know by January.
I think of the house we barely bought. Life within its walls is still in infancy. We have a newborn existence, barely begun. I just got here, I think. I just started calling it home. Can I quit?
Here’s the thing. No matter what happens we have each other. WE will get through this. My husband assures me that no challenge is really a chore when we are in it together. Like our wedding rings our marriage is Mokume Gane.I have no choice but believe him.