The Pieces We Keep(42)

“Allez, allez.” He waved her off. “You pay me next time.”

She would not have agreed, but her stodgy supervisor deemed tardiness a cardinal sin. Vivian’s last infraction had induced the firmest of warnings. She thanked Mr. Bisset with a peck to the cheek, inducing a chuckle.

“I won’t forget!” she called out, and scurried toward the street.

Block after block every taxi was taken. Up ahead the streetcar dinged. She sprinted in a flourish, propelled by benefits she refused to lose. Beyond wartime scoops, her job allowed her financial independence, a counterargument to her mother’s matrimonial crusade-not to say the woman didn’t supply plenty of other reasons her daughter required a husband.

Vivian still had her special savings, of course, stored in the back of her closet. But she had sworn not to squander those funds on anything mundane. They were for her and Isaak, their excursions from coast to coast, the honeymoon she had envisioned too many times to count.

In the event that would ever happen....

Tears pricked her eyes. She blinked them back and picked up her pace, as if ample speed could outrun her doubts.





19


Audra needed this job like the air in her lungs. She needed this change for her son.

After yesterday’s session with Dr. Shaw, Jack’s nightmare gained new ferocity, spanning almost an hour. The proof lay in Audra’s eyes, still bloodshot despite half a bottle of eyedrops. She just hoped her interviewer’s computer was set low on the brightness scale.

Why did their call have to be on video? At least she still had an hour until noon, giving her ample time to practice.

“Please tell me my last answer didn’t sound overly rehearsed.”

On Audra’s laptop, set on the kitchen table, Tess responded from her office. “It didn’t.”

“But how about the one regarding splenectomies? And dental radiographs?”

“Nope and nope.”

“Did you think—”

“It was perfect. All of it. Personally, I’d hire you,” Tess muttered, “back.”

Audra pressed down a smile. “Thanks.”

They both knew it was unfair to keep staff at the clinic short-handed, given her full intention to move. By resigning, she now had no choice but to focus on the goal.

“I’ll call you tonight and let you know how it went,” Audra said, but Tess wasn’t yet done.

“You do know Boston gets about a hundred inches of snow, right?”

“I’m pretty sure you’ve mentioned it.”

“And the cost of living there is almost as high as San Francisco? Then there’s also the crime rate—”

“Tess,” she said. “You were the one who hooked me up with this contact in the first place.”

“Yeah, well. Moment of weakness.”

“Wish me luck.”

A pause. “Can you imagine what a city known as ‘Beantown’ must smell like in the summer?”

“I’m hanging up now.”

“Whatever.”

Audra ended the video call and softly laughed.

She double-checked her computer settings and confirmed they were in order. Then she reviewed her outfit, a royal-blue sweater and charcoal slacks, a step up from her usual. She’d even flatironed her hair, wearing it long over her shoulders, and applied lipstick and mascara. Though no curling of the lashes. She had to draw the line somewhere.

Now, with Jack at school, there was nothing to do but wait.

And think.

About Jack.

After leaving the therapist’s office, she had asked him what he meant by saying he’d been there during the war. He hadn’t answered, and it seemed best not to push him. Maybe his nightmares were blurring the line between what was real and not. But how to stop it?

This was the question that gnawed at her.

Audra needed a diversion. She despised deep cleaning, but tidying—with its distinct before and after states—always gave her satisfaction.

In Jack’s room, she tossed his pajamas into the hamper. She threw away tiny paper scraps and cracker crumbs from his desk, put his kid scissors and glue stick back in a drawer. As she made up his bed, she thought of the book hidden beneath.

His journal.

What would a kid his age write inside? About his feelings, more pictures? What if he did recall his dreams but, when told to draw “happier things,” had lost the courage to share? The key to his night terrors could lie in something he was suppressing, and that discovery would be worth a minor infringement.

Before she could change her mind, Audra grabbed the book. She sat on the bed and flipped open the cover.

On the first page was a drawing. Again smoke plumed, but only from a chimney. The house was two stories high, like the home they used to own. A grassy yard, billowy clouds, and a ball of sun comprised the scene. No planes or signs of death.