Chapter 8 - MARIN'S LAST DAY AT THE ESTATE
Six months later, Marin gave notice.
Dominic read the letter twice.
Then a third time.
“You're leaving.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
She smiled faintly.
“That's a very employer question.”
He almost argued.
Stopped.
“Fair.”
Marin had been accepted into a nursing program.
She had left school ten years earlier after becoming pregnant with Eli.
Caregiving paid bills.
Then it became a career because survival rarely asks whether a temporary choice was supposed to become permanent.
“Isabella knows?”
“She helped with the application.”
Dominic looked toward his mother's room.
“Of course.”
Marin continued:
“I'll stay through the transition.”
“We can pay tuition.”
“No.”
Immediate.
Dominic had expected that.
“Scholarship?”
“No.”
“Foundation?”
“Dominic.”
He stopped.
“My tuition is covered.”
“How?”
“Employer education program from the hospital where I'm going to work part-time.”
Good.
Independent.
He hated how proud that made him.
Then something uncomfortable happened.
He realized he did not want Marin to leave.
Not because Isabella needed her.
A replacement had already been selected.
Not because Eli amused his mother.
Though he did.
Because Dominic had begun measuring his days by whether Marin entered the breakfast room.
That was a problem.
He said nothing.
Correctly.
On Marin's final morning, Isabella cried.
Marin cried harder.
Eli pretended something was in his eye.
Dominic stood near the doorway feeling useless.
Marin hugged Isabella.
Then stepped toward him.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For listening when it mattered.”
Dominic almost laughed.
“It took an accidental phone call.”
“Yes.”
She smiled.
“Don't become arrogant.”
Then she left.
Dominic watched the door close.
His mother tapped the table.
Twice.
Yes.
He looked at her.
“Yes what?”
Isabella pointed toward him.
Then toward the door.
Dominic understood.
“No.”
She tapped twice.
Yes.
“Absolutely not.”
Isabella rolled her eyes.
Expressive aphasia had never stopped sarcasm.
Dominic crouched beside her.
“She worked for this family.”
Isabella pointed at the empty doorway.
Past tense.
“She has a son.”
Isabella tapped twice.
Yes.
“This is complicated.”
His mother pointed at BORING.
Dominic stared.
“You've become impossible.”
May you like
Two taps.
Yes.
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