2:00. My house. And Marcus, thank you for not making me ask twice. He set the phone down on the counter and sat with that for a minute. Then he got up and started getting ready because some things you just have to move toward.
He dropped Darius at Jordan's house at 1:30. His son got out of the car, then leaned back through the window. Dad, yeah, whatever Ryan says, you'll handle it. Marcus looked at him. You don't know what he's going to say.
No, Darius said, but I know you. He stood up and walked to Jordan's door without looking back. Marcus sat in the car for a moment. Then he drove home. He was at Clare's door at 5 minutes to 2.
She opened it before he knocked. She had seen him coming. She was dressed, composed, her hair pulled back, her face doing that thing it did when she was managing something internally. Very still, very even. A surface that gave nothing away, but her eyes did.
He's not here yet, she said. That's okay. He came in. She had the living room organized in the way people organize a room when they're expecting something difficult, not cleaned up. Just arranged.
Two chairs that weren't usually there. Coffee on the table that neither of them was going to drink. "How are you actually? " Marcus said. She looked at him. "I don't know.
I keep trying to decide how bad it can be and I keep running out of categories. Did give you anything? Any indication? " He said it was about the business. She sat down. David had a small consulting firm, mostly B2B marketing strategy.
When he died, I wound it down over about 8 months. I thought I closed everything. She paused. Ryan thinks there's something I missed. What kind of something?
She opened her mouth. The doorbell rang. They looked at each other. Marcus stood up. I'll get it, she said.
She meant that this was her house. Her moment, her history. He understood. He stayed where he was. She opened the door.