“What did he say?”
Robert’s voice became quiet.
“He said, ‘No. I asked what she does. You only told me where she works.’”
For the first time in twenty-six years, Robert had no joke.
No comment.
No reminder about his salary.
He just stared at his hands.
Then he said:
“I think I’ve spent half my life looking down on the person I should have respected the most.”
The next morning, I put on my waitress uniform and headed for the door.
Robert was standing in the hallway.
He looked at me for a moment.
Then he picked up my coat and helped me put it on.
And for the first time in our marriage, when he asked where I was going, he didn’t say:
“To carry plates?”
