Chapter 15 #3
They ate from takeout containers around Abby’s dining table because the plates were clean but the utensils remained inside an unmarked box. Sadie found three plastic forks in the restaurant bag and gave Evan the one with all four tines.
“You fixed the cabinet, so you earned the good fork,” she said as she handed it to him. “Abby and I will endure the consequences of poor planning.”
“I packed the silverware,” Abby said as she examined the fork missing one tine. “You labeled the box ‘stuff’ because you said kitchen was too vague.”
Sadie pointed her damaged fork toward the wall of boxes. “Kitchen was vague. There are twelve boxes in that room, and all of them could accurately claim the name.”
The exchange stayed grounded enough to make Abby smile. Evan opened his container and listened while Sadie described the mover who had attempted to bring the sofa through the bedroom door.
After Sadie left to return the rented van, Abby and Evan remained at the table with the hospital delay written in small pieces across the backs of two takeout menus.
Evan showed her how the six-week postponement affected payment milestones, and Abby asked questions when the sequence stopped making sense.
“So the product is ready, but the sale isn’t complete until the pilot proves the savings,” she said as she traced one of the dates with her finger. “That leaves you paying for implementation before the hospital pays you.”
“For part of it, yes.” Evan turned one menu around and corrected a number. “We planned for a delay. We didn’t plan for this many delays from the same customer.”
“Could you reduce the pilot team until the new date?” Abby asked. “I know that sounds harsh, but I’m trying to understand the options.”
“We could.” Evan capped the pen and rested it on the table. “They both left stable jobs because I told them we were ready. If I cut their hours every time a hospital committee changes its calendar, I won’t have a team when the pilot begins.”
There was no self-pity in the answer. He simply included the two employees in the cost of the decision, and Abby understood why the company had consumed so much of him.
“Then delaying your salary is the first option,” she said. “Even though it shouldn’t be.”
“It’s the least damaging option for now.” Evan gathered the menus into a stack. “I’ll know more after the board meeting.”
Abby looked around the apartment. Boxes occupied half the living room, the curtains were still folded over the arm of the sofa, and her bed had not yet been made.
“You should go work,” she said as she stood. “I can manage the rest, and Sadie will be back in twenty minutes.”
Evan carried the empty containers to the trash. “Are you sure you don’t need the bed assembled first?”
“The movers assembled the frame.” Abby opened the trash cabinet for him. “I have a mattress, clean sheets, and enough energy to put one on the other.”
“Then I’ll go.” Evan washed his hands at the sink and dried them on one of the towels he had put away. “Call if the cabinet falls off the wall, but I’m confident it won’t.”
Abby walked him to the door. “Thank you for coming, and thank you for talking to me about the company.”
“Thank you for asking about it.” Evan lifted the tool bag onto his shoulder. “Makayla preferred the version where I say everything is progressing.”
“Is that what you usually say?” Abby rested one hand on the edge of the door. “That everything is progressing?”
“It is technically true.” Evan looked back toward the boxes. “Progress can be expensive and much slower than the people funding it prefer.”
“Tell me what happens at the board meeting,” Abby said. “You don’t have to make it sound better first.”
Evan nodded once. “I will.”
He left without lingering, and Abby closed the door behind him. She turned the deadbolt, then rested her forehead against the wood for a moment while the sounds of his footsteps faded down the hall.
Her phone vibrated on the dining table. Hudson’s name appeared above a message long enough to fill the screen.
I’ve had time to think about what happened and I’m willing to overlook the way you treated me at the doctor’s office. Send me the address and arrange for a spare key. If you insist on living separately for now, I need access in case there is an emergency involving you or my child.
Abby read it twice, then took a screenshot and moved it into the folder her attorney had told her to maintain. She typed a response, deleted the first version, and began again.
You will not have a key to my home. Please keep future communication limited to appointments, medical updates I choose to share, and necessary financial matters.
She sent the message before she could soften it. Hudson began typing almost immediately, but Abby silenced the conversation and set the phone facedown.
The apartment settled around her with the unfamiliar sounds of pipes, footsteps overhead, and the elevator opening at the end of the hall. Abby crossed to the kitchen and opened the cabinet Evan had repaired.
It swung easily and closed with a quiet click. She placed the ultrasound envelope on the highest shelf for safekeeping, double checked the lock on the front door once more, and began making her bed in the home she had chosen.