Evelyn gathered her papers. "Also, your mother called me."
Claire stared. "Why?"
"Apparently she believes I am the only person who can convince you to take four consecutive days off in January."
"She called the lead independent director about my vacation?"
"Your family has governance problems."
Claire laughed.
She took the four days.
The time off felt strange for the first morning and normal by the second.
She and Ryan did not spend all of it together. That was intentional. Claire visited her mother, read a novel with no relevance to work, and spent one afternoon walking through the art museum alone.
Ryan used two of his own winter days to take Sophie sledding and fix a loose cabinet hinge that had bothered him for six months.
They met for dinner on the third night.
"Did you check email?" Ryan asked.
Claire looked offended. "Once."
"How many times?"
"Three."
"That is not once."
"Across three days, it averages one."
"That is not how averages excuse behavior."
Claire pointed her fork at him. "You are becoming unpleasant."
"Reliable, not pleasant."
The relationship remained deliberately ordinary. There were no dramatic announcements, no expensive gifts designed to prove seriousness, and no discussion of marriage before either of them understood what a normal Tuesday looked like together.
Normal Tuesdays, Ryan believed, revealed more than holidays.
Claire saw him tired after a difficult deployment review. Ryan saw her irritable when the board rejected a proposal she believed in. Sophie saw both of them disagree about whether a school fundraiser required three dozen cookies or whether two dozen was enough.
They learned that affection did not remove friction. It made honesty about friction more necessary.
One Sunday in February, Claire arrived at Ryan's house after he and Sophie had argued.
Sophie had promised to finish a science assignment before using her tablet and had not. Ryan confiscated the tablet for the evening. Sophie declared this "completely unfair" and retreated upstairs with the theatrical force available only to children who knew they were safe enough to be dramatic.
Claire stood in the kitchen while Ryan washed a cutting board harder than necessary.
"Do not say it," he warned.
"I have not said anything."
"You are thinking something."
"I am thinking you both look stubborn when angry."