I knew that sigh meant coffee.
“I needed a ride.”
I kept eating.
“What do you need?”
“Coffee.”
“Then ask me.”
He blinked. “I thought I just did.”
“You sighed and expected me to make it. That’s not the same
thing.”
He studied me.
“I thought I just did.”
“Would you get me some coffee, Cynthia?”
“Yes.”
***
A few days later, Conor came into the kitchen on his crutches.
“I have another appointment on Thursday. Will you come?”
Every instinct in me wanted to start planning.
Conor came into the kitchen on his crutches.
Instead, I asked, “Do you want your wife there, or someone to take notes?”
“My wife.”
So I went.
At the appointment, questions crowded my mouth before Conor finished his first one.
I stopped myself.
He
glanced at me. “You had something to ask.”
“Do you want your wife there?”
