A Silver Photo Frame on Our Porch Ended My Fifteen Year Blind Spot
“Yes,” I said. “Your former research partner Claire will be introducing you to the faculty board as the incoming fellow.”
“I cannot go to that gala, Jordan,” she said, her voice dropping back down. “That is for active researchers, not housewives who have been out of the field.”
“You are an active researcher now,” I said, pointing to the paper on the counter. “The contract is on the table, and the position is yours.”
She stared at the document, the white paper catching the yellow light of the kitchen ceiling lamp.
“Let us move this discussion to the living room,” I said, gesturing toward the hallway. “We need to review the scheduling framework.”
She picked up the fellowship letter, holding it against her chest like a shield, and followed me into the adjacent room.
The sofa felt cold against my back as I sat down, my knees cracking slightly in the late night silence.
Anna did not sit on the sofa next to me, choosing instead to remain standing near the bookshelf.
She kept her distance, her fingers pressing the edges of the white paper as if she were trying to smooth out invisible creases.
