Joanna turned to Charles and put her hand on his waist. They didn’t say anything for a long time.
“They want me to interview someone for work next week,” Charles croaked. “Like, follow them around all day. They want me to write a story for one of the magazines. A magazine that’s advertising this community that lives like the Amish, but at least it’s a shot at writing something.”
Joanna put a finger to her mouth, not following why he was bringing this up right now.
“It’s weird,” he went on. “I’m not going to have anything in common with them. They had normal lives before this, like you and me. They live off the land, to build their houses, to get rid of TVs and cars. It’s not like we’re going to get along.”
She searched his face. “But you don’t have to be friends with them, do you? You just have to interview them.”
“No, you’re right. Of course you’re right. The thing is, it’s on Tuesday. The day of your mom’s … thing.”
“Oh.” Joanna raked her hand through her hair. “It’s all right if you don’t come. It’s not a big deal. It’s a good thing, like you said. You’ll get a writing credit.”
Charles picked at the plastic lid to his coffee. “I should just quit instead.”
“Quit?”
“I don’t have to do it. I don’t have to break my commitment to you.”
She breathed out. “I go to my mom’s all the time. It’s not a big deal.”
Charles’s jaw wobbled.
Joanna cocked her head. “You’re serious? You want to quit.”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Why?”
“It’s insincere, writing for things I don’t believe in. I feel like I lie for a living.”
She leaned against the window. “Everyone lies for a living. And anyway, it’s a group of people who want to live in log cabins. It’s a little weird, but it doesn’t seem amoral.”
“Maybe it’s not just that. I don’t feel right about any of it anymore.”
“And so then what? Would you look for another job?”
“I don’t know.”
The air around them felt fraught. She wondered if there was something more he was trying to tell her in all this. She glanced at the television again. The news had moved on to a weather report. Rain for the next few days. Today’s sun was a short-lived tease.
She turned back to Charles. “Don’t quit your job, okay? Try to have a clear head about this. Do the interview next week, and then we’ll figure out your job situation together.”
He paused a few moments, and then nodded his head. She rested her head on his shoulder, relieved. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“I’m sorry,” Charles said, staring off toward the freezers.
And then they walked out to the car, unlocked it, and Joanna drove home. It ended the argument for the night, deflating the balloon of tension. Because really, after that, there wasn’t much more either of them could say.
Chapter Eleven
They sat on the couch and watched TV, quietly at first. Awkwardly. Then the next day, he said hi. She said hi back. They said nothing after that, but at least they continued watching together. Sometimes he laughed at the jokes on sitcoms. Sometimes she walked into the room and found him watching PBS nature programs—about the mating habits of weasels, about lions on the Serengeti—and was surprised, never knowing he liked these shows. Now when Scott went into his room, he didn’t always shut the door. He even joined Sylvie for dinner last night, whereas before he’d just eaten on his own, often standing over the sink, shoving bites into his mouth as fast as he could.