And something in her shoulders dropped about an inch. "Is he okay? " she said. "He's fine," Marcus said. "Angela has him. He already complained about the gown. " A breath out.
"Of course he did. " She sat next to Marcus. Their arms were touching and neither of them moved apart. She was holding her coffee cup with both hands and Marcus noticed her knuckles were white and he put his hand over hers without saying anything and she turned her hand over and held on. They waited. Waiting at a hospital is its own specific experience.
The minutes do not move the way minutes move elsewhere. They stretch and compress in alternating waves. Marcus sat with Olivia and watched the clock and thought about everything and nothing. And then back to everything again. At one point, Olivia said, "He told me something last night when I called to remind him about the 5:30 time. " "What? " he said, "And again, quoting directly, he said that bringing you across the street to fix that fence was the smartest thing he'd done in 30 years. " She paused.
I said, "I thought the storm brought the fence down. " He said, "The storm was just details. " Marcus looked at her. She looked back at him. He planned it, Marcus said. I don't think he planned it, she said. I think he saw an opportunity and recognized it.
A small pause. He was a military strategist for decades. Marcus, he doesn't just let things happen. He positions himself for outcomes. Marcus sat with that for a moment.
He thought about the morning with the fence post. Robert shaking hands. The pride that wouldn't let him ask for help. The way he'd looked at Marcus when he came through the gate with something in his eyes that Marcus had read as reluctance. He wasn't struggling as much as he let on.
Marcus said slowly. I think he was struggling. Olivia said, "The fence was real. The storm was real, but whether he asked for help," she stopped. "He's a proud Ant-Man.
He's also not stupid. And you were right there. " Marcus leaned back in his chair. He looked at the ceiling and then quietly he started laughing. Olivia looked at him. Then she started laughing too.
The kind that comes out of you when something is both absurd and completely perfect at the same time. He played us. Marcus said he absolutely positioned this. She said he called Gerald Patton he hadn't spoken to in 18 years. He called me and asked what kind of man you were.
He sat in that armchair at my house for weeks reading a newspaper. He barely reads anymore, Olivia said. His eyes bother him. He needs stronger glasses. Marcus looked at her.