Chapter 9
Carl came whistling down the walk to the neat house set back from the street. It looked cool in its little grove of trees with the New Mexico sun beating down so warmly.
Maeve met him at the door and kissed him eagerly. As she stepped back, smiling, he held up a letter and laughed mysteriously. She could see from the letterhead on the envelope that it was from the New York gallery that handled her paintings.
"Oh, Carl, darling, don't tease me. Did they sell another painting?"
"How would you like to paint in the Greek Islands during my next sabbatical?"
"Oh, I'd love to!" she squealed, grabbing for the envelope he held above his head.
"Well, we're going to!" He laughed as he went through the house to his study with Maeve still trying to grab the envelope. He pushed the heavy economics books and the stacks of freshman exams he still had to grade aside on his desk. When he had a cleared space, he spread out the letter, sat down in his big leather chair, and pulled Maeve onto his lap so they could read the letter together.
"Oh, darling," she said at last, a sad but happy sigh escaping her lips. "Admiral Grandfield didn't really buy my painting of Bendemeer's Stream for twenty thousand dollars. This is really your research grant that you gave to Harry when we left there."
"Probably a little of both, honey," he said, pulling her around to face him.
"Have you ever been sorry we did leave, darling? That career in that particular field meant so much to you."
"It meant nothing, sweetheart, when it turned you into an off-site wife. I just need a plain old ordinary wife who worries about my sniffles, raises my kids, and makes twenty thousand dollars for one painting," he exulted, pulling her close and kissing her gently.