The next morning, we accepted both jobs.
Six weeks.
That was how long we had to pack twelve years of life in Ohio.
We told Richard and Patricia the following Sunday.
Mark insisted on doing it in person, although I privately thought a phone call from a moving vehicle with unreliable reception had considerable charm.
Patricia had made pot roast.
We ate first because, as Mark said, “There are families who communicate through healthy conversation. The Bennetts communicate through food and strategic delay.”
After dinner, he asked his mother to sit down.
“Claire and I are moving to Colorado.”
Patricia smiled.
Not happily.
She thought he was joking.
“Colorado?”
“Denver area. I accepted the Mountain Region position.”
“How long will you be out there?”
“It’s permanent.”
Her water glass stopped halfway to her mouth.
Richard frowned. “What do you mean, permanent?”
“We’re relocating. Claire accepted a position in Aurora too.”
