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"We've voided your non-compete form, so you'll be able to work as a fundraiser at another Museum."
"Unless they decide I'm an immoral degenerate too, right?" I snarl.
"You have twenty-four hours to—"
"I don't need twenty-four hours," I declare, grabbing the pen I carry with me everywhere. "Give me whatever paperwork I have to sign."
Shit. Dammit, I'm crying, and the last thing I want them to see is that they've made me cry. I roughly wipe under my eyes, still gripping my damn phone. I wanted to be as close to J and Remi as possible, but now…I don't want to hear their voices until I've got my emotions back under control. Even hearing the soothing balm of their breathing is liable to set me off on a crying storm the likes of which have rarely been seen before.
"In a building filled with art created by people who, more often than not, were ostracized and vilified for their beliefs and for going against what was considered right at the time, I'd have expected better from you. Shame on you. Shame on you all."
It doesn't take long at all after that.
While I was being fired in the conference room, representatives from HR were stationed outside my office door. They watch every move I make as I surreptitiously pack my belongings into a cardboard box. My award from the Children’s hospital glints from atop the pile.
The irony is not lost on me.
In the space of ten days, I've been praised for the example I set for our children and fired for immoral behavior.
By the time Justin gets home from school that day, and Remi comes crashing through the door with Deb hot on his heels, bickering back and forth about the best method of arranging their first round of grants, I'm snuggled up on the couch, all cried out.
Officially a stay at home mother.
20
REMI
Julia takes a bath almost every evening before bed these days. It can’t be as hot as she wants it to be, and it won’t be long until she’ll have to holler for help to get out of the tub, but it relaxes her in a way few other things do.
After today, she needs it.
We don’t all fit in the tub as easily as we did five months ago, but it didn’t stop us from offering to climb in there with her. I offered to make J lounge outside the tub, rubbing her feet. It got a sorely needed laugh and brought some color to her cheeks, but she declined and shut the door behind her.
“She’ll be okay,” J says, staring at the closed door like he can will it to be true with his eyes.
“Yeah,” I agree.
It’s…unconscionable what’s happened to her.
Julia loved her job, and she was fantastic at it. But it’s the Museum’s loss, and truth be told, she doesn’t seem as put out over it as I would expect her to be. I climb up onto the middle of the bed and flop around onto my back, starfishing across the mattress.
“What about you?” he asks, crawling up over top of me and sitting astride my legs. He falls forwards with a hand on either side of my shoulders, his head dangling down from his neck. I push his hair off his forehead in a gesture somehow more intimate than him slotting our hips together. “Should I expect you to spend the rest of the week brooding?”
I won’t deny that the inclination certainly occurred to me. But no. I shake my head and let him read the truth on my face. “Surprisingly, I don’t think so. Outside of general outrage on Julia’s behalf, the urge to flog myself isn’t as strong as one would think.”
“Ho hooo!” Justin playfully cries. “Progress.”
He folds in half, bringing his lips to mine.
“Doesn’t mean I still don’t feel like shit,” I pout and grip his hips in my hands, pressing my thumbs into his hip bones.
“I know, baby.” He lowers his weight onto his forearms on either side of my head. Justin scratches his nails over my scalp, and I try not to purr into his touch like a cat in heat. “If they thought they were going to lose donations with Julia as their representative, wait until they see what happens when word gets out that they let her go.”
His voice ends with a growl. Word is already spreading. Justin made sure of that. He called every person he knows, his mother being first on the list. She may be a hippy at heart, but she's a formidable woman. The Museum is going to be hurting for some time to come. That woman is downright frightening in momma bear mode. They better hope those same people who complained about Jules working there are willing to pay the difference her loss will cost them.
I almost called my mother to ask her if she knew about it. To ask her if she was a part of stealing a fraction of Julia’s happiness from her.
But the truth of the matter is, I’m afraid. I’m afraid that the answer is yes, and she’s truly lost to me forever. Or, maybe even more terrifying, that she didn’t know about Julia losing her job, and she would disapprove of it if she did. If my mother were on our side… I’d have to accept her apology. I’m not sure where we’d go from there.
