Most of the people who call today only want meetings. It's a lot less pointless conversation. But the boys are going to be in meetings for a week. I order the conference table morning and afternoon food for a week. Seems better this way. I won't forget. Then I get lunch catered for a week.
Malax lays on his couch after his final meeting. I lay on him and he rubs my back. I fall asleep again.
Then we wake up late for dinner. We get to the dining room and sit in our spots. Azo, Syca, and Scotch are here. Malax starts to growl and I rub his thigh. He likes that.
I lean over and whisper in Malax's ear, "Relax please. He won't even look up. He feels bad for it, and I'm with you." Then I fall face-first into his lap.
"BOY."
I jump up. "He's my boy, daddy. It's fine. You can stop yelling no
