I spear a piece of pineapple with my fork and feed it to him. “Is this about your call last night with the concert promoter?”
“It is.”
“Good news or bad?”
I hold my breath. Last month, Smith applied for a director of digital photography position at a music magazine. It’s a start-up and swears that paper magazines are on the way out and digital is the way of the future. I’m not sure if I buy into that, but what I do buy into is my husband no longer being gone every night to photograph concerts at dive bars for nothing pay. This job would let him work from anywhere, even Dubai if we wanted to. And, god, do I want to stay here in Dubai.
“Amazing news.” He pulls me out of my seat and drapes his arms around my waist. “They want to hire me, Pen.”
“Oh my god!” I kiss him, savoring the hint of pineapple on his lips. “I don’t want to talk about this on the beach. We should talk about it here with everyone. You finally have a job that won’t require you working every weekend and crazy late nights. We need champagne!”
“Hold it on the bubbly.” He lifts my chin to meet his gaze. “I said they want to hire me.”
“Yeah, I got that part. Hence the bubbly.”
“But it’s not for the director of photography.”
“OK,” I say slowly. “Then what do they want to hire you for?”
“That’s where the walk on the beach comes in.”
Suddenly, this walk on the beach sounds a hell of a lot like walking the plank. He’s excited. I can see it in his eyes and the way his smile won’t stop. But he’s nervous. That’s why he keeps shifting his weight from side to side. That’s the problem with marrying someone you’ve known since you were a kid. You know all their tells without them having to say a word.
But why is he uneasy? Any job has to be better than the one he’s got.
“I’m making you nervous,” he says. “You keep biting your lip.”
I guess he knows all my tells too. “I just want you to tell me what the job is here. Is that OK?”
“Job?” Jasper’s melodic voice startles me. He shuffles onto the patio slowly. Rock and roll hasn’t been nearly as kind to Jasper’s body as it has to Fiona’s. “Did that magazine offer you a job, Smithy?”
“You got the job, baby?” Fiona squeals. “Don’t say another word. I’m going to run back upstairs and demand Monroe get out of bed to hear this. Monroe!”
“Mom, stop,” Smith groans. “I didn’t want all this fuss. Can we have a little privacy? I haven’t even had a chance to tell Penny what’s going on.”
“Why do you need privacy to tell Penny that you got the job?” Jasper plucks a slice of papaya from my fruit salad with his bare hands, and I make a mental note to get another bowl. He’s notoriously lax when it comes to handwashing. “We’re all family. Give us the scoop, kid.”
“Penny, do you mind if Smith shares his news with all of us?” Fiona asks.
“Not at all,” I reply.
In fact, the idea of having Fiona here is comforting. If Smith has been offered some terrible deal, then she’ll help me set him straight.
“Mom. Dad. You’re killing me.” Smith runs his hands over his face in exasperation. “I just want a minute alone with my wife.”
“She doesn’t want a minute alone.” Jasper snatches a handful of mango and banana from my bowl. “God, this stuff is the best. You want some?” He points at my bowl.
“I’m good, Jasper.”
“Does anyone care about what I want?” Smith’s tone sharpens. “Or does everything have to be decided by committee like we’re in a commune or something?”
“You mean consensus, Smithy.” Jasper sits in what was formerly my chair. “A committee is a subsect of a community. A consensus means everyone gets to share their vote and opinion. Or at least that’s how we did it when your mother and I lived on The Farm in Tennessee that summer. God, those were good days. Fiona, do you remember—”
“Fine.” Smith throws his hands in the air in mock surrender. “You win. I was offered a position as a traveling photojournalist. Are you happy now?”
“What?” My stomach sinks.
“That’s incredible news!” Jasper claps. “Bravo!”
“Oh, my love.” Fiona wraps Smith in a hug. “I’m so proud of you. Tell us all about what this means. Actually, wait a minute. Let me get Monroe. She’ll want to hear this.”