She wanted to carry more. In the bind they had achieved, she had to hope to. All through their marriage, however their circumstances had shifted, they had tried to be equals—something he never forgot: inside, he had always had to strive to be her equal. Tending children negated the feeling of equality in her, a fact they had learned to their sorrow. Currently, she could not turn her back on what her work had done for her; she could not take the chance. She was afraid of what would happen to the competence, and more, the crisp rationality. He saw it more clearly: she was doing something useful and important while he was in a business he could take no pride in. He was a businessman, a moneymaker. She would not be able to lean on that for her sense of worth. Neither could he. If she gave up her job, his own sense of worth would all but disappear. As it stood, it was through her need and his inconvenience that he felt useful. In that they were alike; they wanted to feel that they were not only taking.

They had come to this separately, achieved this logjam of hope, but she wanted to share the responsibility for what he had done to himself. He had wanted to be a cop, and had given it up on account of what she had done in Port Smith. He would not have that. There was no responsibility to share and no need for guilt. She fought that, but he was right. He had made his own decision. If anything, it proved how much he had to have her.