future.”
He laughed.
“Your future? Margaret, you’re fifty-five.”
I looked directly at him.
“Yes. I am.”
He seemed to expect me to become defensive.
When I didn’t, he shook his head and returned to his phone.
I didn’t tell him about the course.
I didn’t tell him about Helen.
I didn’t tell him that I had begun rebuilding my résumé or that I was studying basic accounting principles late at night after Samuel fell asleep.
I kept those things private because I needed time to discover what I wanted without
