For several minutes after Timothy returned, I concentrated very hard on my coffee.
It seemed like the safest option.
The alternative involved acknowledging the fact that I had spent the previous day behaving like an emotionally unstable lunatic because an elderly man hadn't appeared on schedule, and I wasn't ready to examine that particular disaster yet. Pretending none of it had happened felt significantly easier. Unfortunately, pretending became more difficult every time I glanced toward the opposite end of the bench and found Timothy sitting there exactly as he always did, holding his coffee with both hands while the city gradually came to life around us.
The plaza settled into its familiar rhythm. Employees crossed the sidewalk carrying travel mugs and briefcases. Cars rolled throug
