After lunch, I knocked on my boss’s door, my heart full of dread.
“Can I have a word?” I asked.
Keisha Martin glanced up from her desk. A black woman in her forties, Keisha did not suffer fools gladly. She was hard but fair.
“I don’t like the sound of that,” she said in a husky voice. “How’s it hanging, Wiley?”
“Thanks for letting me have those extra days off,” I said.
“You want to use up your vacation time, you go right ahead, baby.”
I sighed, sat down in the soft chair in front of her desk.
“What?” she asked, putting her papers down and looking at me.
“I’m going to move to Boston.”
“You’re what?”
“I’m going to move to Boston. I need to put in my notice.”
“You’re one of the best people I got. You ain’t taking your ass to Boston!”
“But I am,” I said, frowning.
“You don’t seem
