Page 27 of Thankful
“Speaking of work, how’s work coming along for you, Cynnamon?” Pops asks her.
“It’s going well. As a matter of fact, they offered me a managerial position.”
“When?” I ask, looking at her, feeling lost and not liking the feeling that I didn’t know this about her. This is news to me, just like it is to my parents.
“A few weeks ago. It was a pretty hefty offer, too, but I turned it down.”
“Why?”
“Because no job is worth all my time. I would’ve had no life. Every day would be just work, work, work. What kind of life is that?” she asks. We lock and hold gazes for a moment before she flashes a fake smile and looks away.
“One thing is for sure,” Mom says. “If you don’t work, you don’t eat according to Jesus.”
“Jesus ain’t say that,” Dad says.
“It’s in the Bible,” she says, then takes a bite of her sandwich.
“Just because it’s in the Bible don’t mean Jesus said it.”
“Then who said it, since you a Bible scholar now?”
Dad sighs and shakes his head.
Cyn takes a sip of lemonade.
I take a bite of my sandwich. I’m not thinking about the tit-for-tat between my parents. I’m trying to wrap my head around things I don’t know about my wife. I used to know everything where we were concerned. Now, she’s somewhat of a stranger – a stranger I know well, yet I’m not privy to the current state of affairs in her life. It’s odd still having the title of husband, yet being so far detached from her that it no longer feels like we’re married. It bothers me, and maybe this job news bothers me even more because I asked her a few days ago how it was going. She didn’t mention anything about a promotion – one I think she should’ve taken. She’s brilliant – an ace at numbers. She should reward herself for that.
“Paul!” Dad shouts. “That’s who said it. You don’t work, you don’t eat.”
“Excuse me for a moment,” Cyn says, pushing back from the table. “Be right back.”
She goes upstairs, and I’m wondering why. She leaves me with so many questions. So many thoughts. I hate being on the outside when it comes to her.
I excuse myself and go upstairs to see where she ran off to. Just as I make it to the top of the stairs, she comes out of the bathroom.
I say,” You know there’s a washroom downstairs, right?”
“Yep–just wanted to come up and give you some alone time to catch up with your folks.”
“It seemswe’rethe ones who need to catch up.”
She crosses her arms. “Meaning what?”
“Cyn, I asked you how your job was going. You didn’t mention anything about a promotion.”
“That’s because it’s none of your business.”
“But it’s okay to discuss with my parents?”
“I was making conversation. That’s why I’m here, right?”
“Yes, but if you can tell them about your job, what’s preventing you from telling me?”
“You know what’s preventing me from telling you. Don’t let these few days make you forget that we’ve spent this year apart, Brix. And why are you so pressed about my job situation? You’re so wrapped up in that hospital, nothing concerning me ever really mattered to you. So, what would be the point in discussing my insignificant job, especially now that we’re no longer together?”
“I still care about you, Cyn. I care about your life. Your goals. Your dreams.”
“I hear you—”
