A week later, Professor Sterling came by the house. He had a camera crew from the local paper with him.
"Flora," he said. "The results from the regional exam. You didn't just pass. You had the highest score in the state."
Julian was walking up the path, holding a briefcase. He stopped when he saw the cameras.
"Your wife is going to the national finals," Sterling told him. "She's a genius, Julian. I hope you're prepared to be married to a famous mathematician."
Julian didn't look at the cameras. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. Inside was a gold fountain pen.
"I bought this for you," he said. "To replace the pencil."
"Thank you," I said. I took the box. I didn't tell him I preferred the pencil.
By the end of the month, Julian had his bags packed again. The Houston job was permanent.
"Come with me," he said. He stood in the doorway of our bedroom, watching me pack my own bag for the university dorms. "I don't want a housekeeper, Flora. I want you."
I stopped folding my shirts. "You said I didn't belong in your world."
"I was an idiot," he said. "I didn't know who you were."
"I didn't know either," I said. "But I'm finding out. And she doesn't live in Houston."
He looked at the floorboards. "So this is it? The agreement?"
"Yes," I said.
I watched him drive away the next morning. It was the same road he'd taken in the other lives. But this time, I didn't stand in the dust and wave. I went back inside, sat at the table, and started on the next equation.