Page 17 of Of Literature and Lattes
“I never said it did.”
“But you want it to. You want it glossy and neat. If Becca needs special classes, attention, then that’s what she needs. We read together last night and—”
“I told you. I’m handling it.”
Jeremy shifted his gaze above Krista’s head toward the house. “She’s nervous and she feels that she’s not measuring up. She brought Amelia Bedelia with her.” At Krista’s perplexed expression, he continued. “No one does things more differently or is less understood at the beginning than Amelia Bedelia.”
“It’s a kids’ book.”
“You know what Madeleine L’Engle said... If the book’s too difficult for adults, write it for children. Kids’ books are important.”
Krista scoffed.
“I’m serious, Krista. This isn’t about you, or me. You may be her mom, but I’m her dad.”
Krista’s face hardened.
He stepped back to his car in hopes a physical retreat would signal an emotional one. “I’ll come back in a couple hours. I’d still like to spend the weekend with her.”
“No. I don’t—”
Jeremy raised a hand. “Please. I don’t get a ton of time with her. And I didn’t mean to push.”
He noted the instant Krista relented. Her eyes softened. In those moments, although few and far between, he remembered why he had loved her and why he had married her. When she forgot to push and strive, there was vulnerability, softness, and a light that enthralled him. When they’d met, she’d just finished her sophomore year of college, had had a rough time with some boyfriend, had struggled in school, had fought with her parents... It wasn’t an ideal time to start something new, but she had also needed someplace safe to land, and that someplace and someone had been him. The ability to hold her, love her, and even help her heal had formed the greatest six months of his life.
She stepped forward. “I need to tell you something else.” She too glanced back to the house. “We’re moving, Jeremy.”
“Closer to me?”
“North Carolina. The company’s expanding, and I’ve been asked to run point in Charlotte. No more supervising parties. I’ll set up the whole operation.” She held up a hand to stop him from speaking. “I’ve already done the research. The office is in a great area with an excellent school system—smaller classes, individual attention, special programs. It’s everything you want for her.”
“You can’t... Is this what you planned all along? To get me to push, then spring your already pat answer on me?”
“That’s not fair.”
“You can’t do this, Krista. I just moved here. I have everything invested here. I can’t get out. I can’t—”
“As you said, this isn’t about you.”
“That’s not what I was talking about and you know it. You never asked me to move here, I get that, but I came. You can’t just leave. Don’t act like you’re doing this for Becca—they have all those classes here. And what about your parents? They love having her here.”
“I’m not twenty anymore. I need out... And this is good for her. Great for me. You can’t be against this.” Krista slid her phone from her back pocket. “I’ve got to go. We can talk later, but this is happening, Jeremy. It’s exactly what I’ve been working for.”
“It isn’t. You’ve always wanted to do layout and design, not manage infrastructure.”
One of Krista’s more recent social media campaigns flashed in Jeremy’s memory. She’d created a series of pictures of different foods the catering company sold. Beautiful croissants, bright green salads, savory tarts. But when he’d replied to ask the cost for Andante and if it was all as good as it looked, she’d replied,I have no idea. After the pictures, I throw it all away.
“That’s what they’re offering me, Jeremy.”
“We have to talk about this.”
“Later.” She spun toward the door. “I have a doctor’s appointment to get to.”
As he drove away, a prayer floated into his consciousness. He quirked a small smile because, unbidden, it always arrived when needed and brought a sliver of peace each time.
God, grant us the serenity to accept the things we cannot change, the courage to change the things we can, and the wisdom to know the difference.
He had heard it for the first time at one of Ryan’s AA meetings back in Seattle and liked it so much he’d grabbed a small printed card of it on his way out the door. He knew he should pay attention to the first clause. It pricked his conscience like a small, calm voice every time he raced over it to get to the middle part. Yet he never did the accepting. He rushed on, like a parched man to water, certain that with hard work and perseverance he could create the outcome he wanted and be sated.
