“NO!” Ellen shouted. “No. Absolutely not.”
It had crossed her mind; of course it had. She knew it had crossed Penny’s mind as well. But she was damned if she was going to force him into any kind of a commitment he didn’t want, no matter how badly she wanted to stay, no matter if the alternative was leaving him.
“No,” she said again, just in case they hadn’t understood. “I might... be able to ask for a permanent position; then I could apply for a green card.” If Jon would still have her.
It was the first time she’d admitted as much, even to herself, and she realized as she said that she had changed her plans without conscious thought. That the idea of leaving made a fist tighten in her throat. That she was going to throw herself on Jon’s mercy and whatever professional reputation she had, and beg to stay.
“Green card?” said Andrew. “Permanent?”
“Maybe.”
“Oh. Well, dear,” he continued, “we were sort of hoping that you... well, that you might be thinking of coming home ... permanently.”
Ellen looked at the clock; she should really be getting in the shower. “But... you knew about the transfers...”
“Yes, but you didn’t take the last one. We thought perhaps you’d decided not to move around so much, that you’d—”
“We thought,” Charlotte said, her voice impatient, “that you’d stopped being angry with us for whatever it was we’ve done and would come back to your real life!”
Ellen felt as though she’d swallowed ice. These last four years of her life were just a temper tantrum to her mother—she knew Andrew wouldn’t have seen it that way—just a snit Ellen had to work through, and then she’d fall back into line.
She wanted to put the phone down, but that wasn’t how her family worked. “I think you trained me well enough, Mother,” she said coldly, “to know that temper tantrums are not in our vocabulary.”
Yet she had run away, had acted on pure emotion, after Edward’s attack. She’d gone straight to human resources, asked them about international transfers. She’d jumped through every administrative hoop in a kind of frenzy, and before the season had changed, she was on a plane. She’d allowed her emotions to direct her life for the first time, and she’d been determined never to acknowledge that. So much for the logical career move.
Whenever she’d been homesick, and wondered if she’d made the wrong decision, she only had to think of Edward, and the impossibility of returning to England would soothe her. But despite this, she’d never really considered her situation as permanent. The fact that she could go home had always been there. Now... now she thought about leaving. Not just leaving Kane, though that was enough of a punch to the heart, but leaving Penny, and her other friends, and leaving Boston, the city she’d learned to love more than anything she’d left behind. Leaving that house full of women who also loved Kane, who embodied his sense of home, who were the reason he worked and worried so hard.
The morning radio was on quietly. Ridiculously, the accents of the hosts brought tears to her eyes. She’d emigrated, she realized, without even noticing.
“I’m sorry, Mum,” she said hoarsely. “But I’m not coming back.”
Andrew gave a soft “oh” of disappointment, but Charlotte said, “Because of him?” And now she sounded angrier than Ellen had heard her in years. “Because I’ve seen all the other pictures, Ellen, with the other women. Are you sure he feels the same way about you as you say you do about him?”
There it was; the question Ellen had been pushing away all weekend. How did she know that Kane didn’t consider the blissful day they’d had yesterday just another hang-out with just another girlfriend? And Ellen had to be a lot higher maintenance than those others.
“You might be right,” she said. “But even if...” She could hardly say the words. “Even if he and I don’t... work out... my life is here now.”
“And what about us?” Charlotte burst out.
Typical. “I’m sure your friends will forgive you for having a daughter that went over to the dark side. Look, I have to get ready for work. Say hello to Adam and Jen for me, will you?”
“But, darling,” her father began, but Ellen couldn’t take any more. “Bye, Daddy,” she said, and carefully and non-temper-tantrum-y, pressed the off button. Then she covered her eyes with her hands and let the tears fall. She didn’t even know what she was crying about. If this was what letting out her emotions meant, then it stunk.
