“They almost always assign me a box,” Ian told her.
“A box?” Lucinda.
“He means one of those little rooms with the balcony.” Maxine.
“It will be a tight fit, but I think we can probably get everyone inside.” Ian addressed Connor. “Sylvie is welcome, if she’s coming.”
Connor continued to inspect the sandwich he wasn’t eating. “The wife says it all depends on the babies.”
Maxine leaned in close. “You all right there? You’ve gone all green.”
“Connor will be fine,” Arthur said.
“If there’s room, Megan would love to join everyone in the box,” Danny said. “But I’ll probably be stationed by Arthur’s control board. You know. In case the man here needs reminding which knobs to twist.”
“There’s probably some polite way to describe just how unwelcome a producer is in my box,” Arthur replied. “It just doesn’t come to mind.”
“I’ll have a word with Kiki soon as we’re done here.” Ian’s phone rang. He checked the readout and instantly rose to his feet. “I need to take this.”
Ian left the studio and took the path around to the rear wall. “Kari?”
“Hello, Ian.”
“Is something wrong?”
“I have no idea.”
“You sound worried.”
“I’m so scared.”
He took a long moment, savoring the view and the words. There was no longer a wise older woman playing go-between. This was him and her. “How can I help?”
“I don’t know if anyone can. I don’t even know why I called.”
“I’m glad you did.” He paused, then added more softly, “Let me try to help. Please. I really want to.”
Her next words came in a breathless rush. “Indrid is out on the porch. She thinks I should call Graham and accept. You know, Miami. I think . . . she might be right. She probably is. But everything is moving sofast.”
“I understand.”
“Do you? Really?”
“Totally. I came here thinking I’d step back from the mad rush. Do a big nothing for as long as I needed. Instead, it’s been full speed ahead since the moment I walked into Megan’s office. Doing what I ran from and more besides. A lot more.”
She was silent. Her breaths puffed against his ear. As intimate a moment as any he’d known in a long while.
“Kari, I understand,” he repeated. “You’re facing your own hurricane. You’re worried about what happens to your gift.”
She did not respond.
“So here’s what I think. Take as long as you need. You’re the only person who can decide whether it’s right to go.”
“Indrid thinks I should. That I need to.”
He softly pounded a fist on the wall. Marking time for his words. “Maybe she’s right. But this is your decision. Not hers. And the key here, the absolute most important thing, is what impact this will have on yournextwork.”
Kari did not respond.
