Sabbatical

Chapter Six

Meredith sipped a mediocre cup of coffee from the Air Stream's Keurig and settled in at the kitchen table. Her morning had been surprisingly pleasant; the shaky panic of the night before had dissipated by the time the sun in Colfax—her current location she learned—bathed her "bedroom" in orange light. After stepping out for some air, the grass crisp from the overnight temperatures, she opened her e-mail and began sorting and replying with what she liked to think of as six sigma precision.

Yes, Avery will attend Zoe's birthday party at Chelsea Piers next month.

Yes, Hadley may attend the Boalton field trip to the Museum of Natural History.

Does Hadley want to continue with soccer? Maybe.

Reminder: both girls have their dance recital May 23, don't forget dress rehearsal on the 22nd.

Can Avery come over to Madison's for a playdate? Definitely not. Don't trust that Au Pair.

What do we want to do for Hadley's eighth birthday? Should we start planning now? .....

Reminder: Avery needs new underwear.

Reminder: Schedule the girls' annual visits to Upper West Side Pediatrics. I'll take care of that

Pick a date for parent-teacher conferences. We both should be there.

These library books—Spring in the Sea and All the World, they seem to have grown legs. Could you ask Alma to take a look for them this afternoon?

Ted wasn't responding yet; Meredith knew he wouldn't be up for another hour or so. Still, she shivered as a surge of pleasure filled her with each completed task. Like most every setback in her life, Meredith had set to regrouping and organizing to manage disappointment. In school, she cleaned her room. At home, she folded laundry. At work, she collated and shredded. And now, in this Air Stream camper in Colfax, Iowa, she wrangled her inbox into submission. She hovered the cursor over the most recent version of her resume—a word document from a year ago when she was asked to speak on a panel at the Power Woman conference. She drummed her fingers on the table before shutting the laptop's cover. She'd been laid off not even twenty-four hours yet. One step at a time.

Phone back in hand, Meredith scrolled through Boalton's school app, the one that practically allowed parents to attend elementary school again. From this portal, she and Ted could track Hadley and Avery's school days—from the class projects to parties to recess—something that Meredith found comforting. She bristled when Ted would make his Big Brother comments, seeming to lament deviation from the good old days of separate parent and child spheres. Probably an indelible imprint of Martha's child rearing on Ted's psyche. The app gave Meredith a sense of connection with the girls; she liked to know what they were up to, even if she might never actually discuss it with them. Yesterday Hadley had: presented her life sciences project on vertebrates; picked out books for library day; and played tennis during gym class. Avery, who seemed to be in an endless montage of toddler celebrations, had painted and of course had low-sugar vegan cupcakes for Sasha's fourth birthday. Meredith smiled at a picture of Avery, frosting on her chin and arm around her best friend Lara, and then closed the app, dangerously close to tears. It had been two years since she stopped rushing home from the office to pick the girls up, and nearly a year since she had been to drop off in any consistent manner. Ted did all of that now, and sometimes Meredith struggled with a discomfort she couldn't quite pin point. Not really guilt. Not exactly sadness. She feared it might be something reminiscent of resentment.

An incoming call jostled the phone against the table. Quinn's face lit up the screen.

"Hey."

Meredith walked outside the camper.