I had been thinking about it for three weeks.
Not anxiously. Not in the way of a decision that keeps you awake or circles at the edges
of other thoughts without resolving. More in the way of a decision that has already been
made somewhere underneath the conscious level and is waiting, with the patience of
something that knows it will eventually be acted on, for the rest of you to catch up.
The Monday after Margaret and Ethan I called Lucas.
He picked up on the second ring. “How was it?” he asked. He meant Margaret. He had
been careful not to ask over the weekend, which from Lucas was its own kind of respect.
“Better than it had any right to be,” I said. “Ethan read to her for fifteen minutes about load-
bearing architecture and she sat completely still and listened to every word.”
