Isettledinatmydesk to get some work done, intent on planning lessons for the fall, when my email pinged with an incoming message. I sighed, switched browser tabs, and clicked on the incoming email mindlessly.
Sender: Birchwood Institute for the Arts
Subject: Interview Request
My stomach flipped as I read the email carefully. It was brief, only a few sentences, and I read it a second time to be sure I’d understood, then a third time. The headmaster of Birchwood Institute for the Arts was reaching out to me. Tome. With an interview request. Hadn’t I told Mason not a week ago on our date that I was sure I wasn’t being considered because I hadn’t heard anything in so long? Andnowthey were emailing me?
The email was short and sweet, apologizing for the delay, asking if I’d be available for a video interview sometime in the next few days, and thanking me for my interest in the BIA. I checked my calendar. It was a Wednesday and I had nothing scheduled for that day or the next two, besides seeing Mason when he finished work—he’d picked up a few jobs here and there to finish out the summer with, which was keeping him busy during the days. I replied to the email immediately with my availability and my excitement about being chosen for an interview.
The moment I hit send, my stomach turned and ice ran through my veins. What was I doing? I hadn’t even discussed it with Mason, beyond a passing mention that I’d applied. On the other hand, the job was a prestigious one that paid well and would give me the opportunity to work with students who were passionate about theatre arts, not just there to fulfill an elective. Still, though, it was a long drive from Cedarvale, hardly a reasonable commute for a relationship.
I shook my head. It didn’t matter, at least, not much. I hadn’t been offered a position, just an interview. I could always say no if they offered me the job and the terms weren’t agreeable. Instead of stewing over it, I grabbed my phone and texted Mason.
Emery: Guess what? I was asked to interview with the BIA.
Mason didn’t reply right away. Message only showed delivered, not read, so I put my phone away and refocused myself on preparing for the interview. After about a half hour, my phone buzzed with a text.
Mason: That’s amazing news. Congratulations! We’ll have to celebrate tonight.
A few minutes later, an email came through, confirming my interview for the following day. I was on cloud nine the rest of the afternoon, and when Mason texted me that he was home, I hopped in my SUV and hurried to his house.
Mason greeted me at the door, pulling me into a big hug immediately. “Hey there,” he murmured into my hair.
“Hey yourself.”
He pulled back to meet my gaze, a cautiousness in his eyes that I hadn’t seen in a long time. “So, an interview with Birchwood Bay, huh?”
I shrugged and gave him a playful shove before gesturing for him to lead the way into the house. “I’m not exactly hired yet.” I stopped to toe off my shoes and leave them by the door.
Mason sighed softly. “I know, but… What happens if you do get hired?”
I took a step back. “I don’t know. But what I do know is nothing happens to us. We make the decision together.
When he looked at me again, the lines around his eyes were tight and worried. “Yeah, you’re right. Of course.”
“Besides,” I assured him. “It’s way too early to worry about it. It’s just an interview. Even if I’m offered the jobandif we decide I’m going to take it, we still have a month before school starts to figure out what we’re going to do.”
He nodded, biting his bottom lip. “I’m just… I don’t want to lose you.”
“You won’t,” I murmured, pulling him close. “This is just an interview. Try not to stress.”
The rest of our evening went quietly, enjoying hamburgers that Mason grilled for us and watching TV. As we watchedHeartland Overhaul, a home renovation reality show, Mason turned to me.
“I’m really excited for you. This is a big opportunity. I’m just a little scared for us.”
I took his hand and nodded. “I understand. But I promise I’m not making any long-term decisions without you. I’m too happy to fuck it up over something like this.”
“But… this is a once-in-a-lifetime teaching opportunity,” he pointed out.
I shrugged. “Yeah, but I like my job as it is. I don’tneeda new job. I just thought I’d throw my hat in the ring and see what happened. Nothing is set in stone yet and I promise, I won’t make that decision without you.”
Mason took my hand and squeezed. “Thanks. If you do get the job, and you want to take it, I’m not going to stand in your way. I might even find a way to move to Birchwood Bay myself. I can do my job anywhere. There’s always a need for a general contractor, right? If nothing else, Margaret taught us that.”
I laughed a little. “That’s so true.” I waited a few seconds. “So, we’re good?”
Mason kissed me quickly. “We’re good.”
The next afternoon was my interview, and I logged on several minutes early to be sure I wouldn’t have any tech issues. At the appointed time, several people joined the call. I recognized everyone’s names, but realized I’d only met Melinda, the head of the theatre department, in passing at an arts in education conference.
