Free Upside Down by Fern Michaels Page A

from that flight episode. I couldn’t make the trip over here because I had to be on-site seven days a week. At first it was okay—we had the webcams. We’d e-mail, talk, call, send texts. But on my time, not his. That didn’t sit well. With either of us. Then there was the six-hour time difference. That just out and out played hell with everything. I asked him to move across the pond until the job was done. He refused. Then I made a big mistake and said it wasn’t like he had a real job, and when he did work, it was doing illegal stuff. He retaliated by asking me if that wasn’t the pot calling the kettle black. Referring, of course, to my vigilante days, for which I had no comeback. He was absolutely right. At that point, we both dug in, and that was four months ago. I came over last week. I have to be honest—we hit a big snag on the project, and things shut down. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be here. Also, the weather turned awful in England, so it was a good time to make the trip. I showed up and, at first, Abner wouldn’t even let me in. He finally did, and we had a rip-roaring fight. He said we were married and belonged together, not on two separate continents. He said I could have all the work in the world right here on our home shores. I said I had to see the project through to completion, and he said he understood in the beginning. He totally ignored me when I told him he could do his spying anywhere. Then he said that was before he got sick, and why did he have to make all the sacrifices. It just got out of hand really, really quick, and I walked out. That’s it. I’m leaving tomorrow to return to England.”
    Maggie nodded, trying to absorb all she was hearing. “How much longer is the project?”
    â€œTwo more years, maybe three. At this point, I can’t be certain. For all I know, it could go to four. The Brits are sometimes difficult to deal with,” Isabelle said, defiance ringing in her voice.
    No one said a word because no one knew what to say.
    Isabelle started to cry. “I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t. Talk about being between a rock and a hard place.” She sobbed. Annie handed her a bunch of paper towels and patted her on the back, after which she put the kettle on for more tea.
    â€œI don’t want any more damn tea. I swim in tea when I’m there. That’s all they drink. I hate scones, and I damn well hate kippers, and I sure as hell hate mutton.”
    Maggie threw her hands in the air. “Can’t the two of you compromise somewhere along the way?”
    â€œAbner does not know the meaning of the word compromise. I tried that.”
    â€œWhat and how were you willing to compromise, dear?” Myra asked.
    â€œWell . . . I said I would do my best to come over for a long weekend whenever I could. I reminded him of the webcams, the texting, and the e-mails. He in turn said he wanted a flesh-and-blood person next to him. He refuses to understand that this is my career, something I’ve worked toward all my life. I finally got the brass ring. And let’s not forget all those years when I lost everything and had to fight my way back. I just can’t give that up. I can’t. I won’t. ”
    â€œWell, then, I guess that pretty much sums it all up,” Annie said cheerfully. “Why don’t we all go out to dinner to celebrate Isabelle’s decision? My treat. So, who is going to file for divorce, you or Abner?”
    Maggie almost choked on the last swig of cola.
    â€œWho said anything about a divorce?” Isabelle asked in a shaky voice.
    â€œWell . . . I just . . . you know . . . assumed that that’s where you were going with all this. You won’t give up your career, and Abner can’t cross the Atlantic for health reasons, unless he is one hundred percent recovered from his last flight episode. It’s inevitable that you would each want to get on with your