A Silver Photo Frame on Our Porch Ended My Fifteen Year Blind Spot
“Some jokes reveal what a person truly thinks, Jordan,” she said, her back still toward me.
“That is not fair,” I said. “You know I respect what you do.”
She turned to face me then, her eyes completely clear and cold.
“Do you?” she asked. “Is that why you laughed when I asked about my old research? Is that why you treat my past like some minor hobby I had before I became useful to you?”
“I never said that,” I replied, but my voice lacked conviction.
“You did not have to say it,” she said. She leaned against the counter, her hands folding across her chest. “Do you want to know why I did not go to the fifteen year reunion, Jordan? The invitation is sitting in the bottom drawer of my desk. I did not go because I felt small. I was embarrassed that I had absolutely nothing professional to show for my life while everyone else in that room was publishing papers.”
I looked at her, the realization settling into my chest. “Anna, you could have told me.”
