She was just a woman with a cup of cider standing next to a man she'd known for 24 hours. She thought, "I could get used to this. " And then she thought, "That's the most dangerous thing you've thought all weekend. " She took a sip of cider and said nothing. It was around 3:30 when the afternoon shifted. Ava had found her school friends and migrated into a cluster of third graders near the bounce house, and Marcus and Victoria had drifted to a bench near the edge of the parking lot where it was slightly quieter. They'd been talking for maybe 40 minutes about everything and nothing.
His grandmother's ratifications that had slowly become his own. A book he'd been reading about the history of American infrastructure that she'd expressed surprise at. And he'd said simply, "Cars are infrastructure. It's all connected. " when a woman approached. Late30s well put together the specific energy of someone who knew Marcus and had an opinion about him being on a bench with someone she didn't recognize.
Marcus, she said, her voice was warm on the surface and slightly pressurized underneath. The way water feels before it starts to boil. I didn't know you were bringing someone. Hey, Renee, Marcus said. Nothing in his voice indicated anything.
How's James? He's good. Her eyes moved to Victoria with the transparent pretense of a casual glance. I don't think we've met, Victoria said. Not Wells, not Hail, just Victoria, which felt in this moment.
More accurate than either. Renee Dawson. I've known Marcus since God since forever. You're not from Mil Haven, Atlanta, Victoria said. Visiting for the weekend?
Renee smiled. It was the smile of a woman processing information she'd requested, but didn't necessarily enjoy receiving. She looked back at Marcus. Ava looks like she's having a great time. She won a cake, Marcus said.
Of course, she did a beat. Then I'll let you two get back to it. Marcus, call me about the church potluck thing. We need to pin down who's bringing what. I'll call you, he said.
Renee walked away. Victoria watched her go. Old friend. She said she's been trying to set me up with her cousin for about 3 years. Marcus said, "Nice woman, very committed to the plan.
Are you opposed to the plan? " He looked at her sideways. "I'm not opposed to meeting people," he said. "I'm opposed to being managed into it. " She understood that more precisely than she would have liked. The festival began to thin out around 4. Parents gathering children, volunteers stacking folding tables, the ring toss shutting down mid-aru from a 9-year-old who wanted one more shot.
Ava reappeared at Marcus' elbow with her rubber duck and the cake held with the careful authority of someone who understood what they were carrying. "Can Victoria come for dinner again? " she said. Marcus looked at Victoria. Victoria looked at Ava. I don't want to impose twice, she said.
You're not imposing. Ava said with great certainty. I'm inviting you. That's different. Marcus said, "She's right.
That is different. I have leftover chicken. " He said, "And I could make something with it. " He makes really good chicken soup. Ava said, "When it's the leftover chicken, it's not soup yet. " Marcus said, "It's a plan to make soup. " Same thing, Ava said. Again with that absolute economy of truth. Victoria thought about the Birchwood Inn.
She thought about room 6. She thought about 39 notifications and the board call on Wednesday and the life in Atlanta that was fully intact and fully waiting. Okay, she said dinner. Ava made a small fist pump that she thought no one saw. They both saw it.
The soup was extraordinary. She didn't know how it was possible for leftover chicken to become something like that in under an hour. But Marcus moved through his kitchen with a quiet efficiency that produced results that were impossible to be indifferent to. It was the kind of food that had history in it. Recipes that came from people who knew that feeding someone was a language all its own.
She sat at the table with Ava, who was telling her about the political dynamics of who had won the most at the ring toss and what that said about the structural advantages of longer arms. And she listened and added responses and ate the soup and thought. This is what the word home is supposed to mean. She didn't say that out loud, but she thought it. After dinner, after the dishes, after Ava disappeared to her room to read with the rubber duck positioned ceremonially on the nightstand, Marcus and Victoria sat in the living room with the quiet that she had come to understand.
Was his natural state generous and full and requiring nothing from her. I have to go back tomorrow, she said. I know, he said. I have a board call Wednesday and a performance review Thursday and an acquisition in arbitration that's been stalled and been stalled weeks. That sounds like a lot.
It's exactly what I signed up for, she said. I just didn't know what I was signing away when I signed up for it. Marcus turned his cup slowly in his hands. Not avoiding her, thinking, "Can I ask you something? " "Yes, when you go back," he said. "What are you going back to? " She thought about the answer honestly.
The company. She said the work it's I've built something. It matters. It employs 4,000 people. I know.
He said, I'm not asking about that, she met his eyes. He held her gaze steady, not demanding, just clear. What are you going back to? He said again. That you want to go back to?
The question sat in the room like a stone dropped in still water. She didn't answer right away. She looked at the photo of Dana on the wall. She looked at Ava's latest crayon drawing on the refrigerator. Visible from where she sat, a drawing of three stick figures in front of a house.
The middle one in what appeared to be a green jacket. She looked at the green jacket that was currently on the back of her chair. She looked at Marcus. I don't know, she said. That's honest it is.
He said it also means something. What does it mean? He took a long moment. It means whatever you built out there, you didn't build it around the right things. And you know that you knew it before you got in that car on Thursday night.
She said, "I'm starting to wonder if I know how to build around the right things, to want things for myself, not for the company, not for the board, not because something needed to be done, and I was the one who could do it. " She pressed her hands flat against her knees. I've been the person who does things for so long. I'm not entirely sure what I want when nobody needs me to do anything. Marcus was quiet for a moment. Then he said, "You wanted pecan waffles this morning. " She blinked.