Chapter 8
Arlington, VA
20 December 2010
Ian
RANDY HAD BEEN gone for half an hour Monday morning, and I was already tired of moping about the house by myself. At one point, I actually sat and stared at the phone for a solid ten minutes, willing it, without success, to ring. I watched television for a while, I tried to read a book I’d picked up in Savannah, and I even resorted to playing solitaire for a bit. Finally, just after noon, my cell phone rang, and Randy said, “Okay, I’m on the way home to keep you company.”
“Good, because that old saying is true—misery loves company.”
“Maybe we can think of some way to entertain each other,” he said.
“Enough with the jokes, just come home.”
“I’m walking to the Metro stop as we speak,” he said.
I was in bed waiting when Randy got home, and
