“I think you would enjoy living in Chicago,” John said pleadingly. “And I miss you all terribly.”

Marilyn sighed. “We miss you, too,” she said. “But that’s not the point. If I give up my job the girls would have to go to an inner-city public school. There’s no way we could afford private school with your resident’s salary.”

The public-address system crackled to life and announced that all passengers holding tickets for Champaign had to be on board. It was last call.

“We’ve got to go,” Marilyn said. “We’ll miss the flight.”

John nodded and brushed away a tear. “I know,” he said. “But you will think about it?”

“Of course I’ll think about it,” Marilyn snapped. Then she caught herself. She sighed again. She didn’t mean to sound angry. “It’s all I’m thinking about,” she added softly.

Marilyn lifted her arms and embraced her husband. He hugged her back with ferocity.

“Careful,” she wheezed. “You’ll snap one of my ribs.”

“I love you,” John said in a muffled voice. He’d buried his face in the crook of her neck.

After echoing his sentiments, Marilyn broke away and gathered Lydia and Tamara. She gave the boarding passes to the ticket agent and herded the girls down the ramp. As she walked she glanced at John through the glass partition. As they turned into the jetway she gave a wave. It was to be her last.

“Are we going to have to move?” Lydia whined. She was ten and in the fifth grade.

“I’m not moving,” Tamara said. She was eleven and strong-willed. “I’ll move in with Connie. She said I could stay with her.”