The board meeting was at eight.
Damien was dressed and composed by six thirty and sitting at the kitchen counter with his coffee and a quietness that was not anxiety and not indifference but the specific focused stillness of a man who has prepared as thoroughly as preparation allows and is now simply waiting for the thing itself to begin.
I sat across from him.
He said: you do not need to wait up with me.
I said: I am not waiting. I am having coffee with my husband on a Monday morning.
He looked at me.
I looked back.
He said: it will run two hours at minimum. Possibly three.
I said: I have forty seven pages to expand into forty eight.
He said: you are writing today.
I said: I write every day. You know this.
He said: I like knowing it.
I said: I know you do.
We sat in the kitch
