Victoria was quiet. That's what I got wrong. She said, "For a long time, I was so focused on building the system that I forgot to actually listen to the people inside it." A pause. "You never forgot that I was inside the system."
He said, "Hard to forget when it's where you live." I know she said it the way she said things when they cost her something to admit. I'm learning. You're doing fine. You're being generous.
I'm being accurate. He said, "There's a difference." He found the mugs. He poured two cups. He handed her one.
She wrapped both hands around it the same way she had the first night. And he thought about that about how the small habits of a person become landmarks become the things you recognize across any room become the proof that you have been paying close enough attention to know someone. Amara called last night. She said he looked at her. She called you.
She wanted to tell me the publisher responded. Victoria's eyes were doing something careful. She got a letter back. An actual letter, not an email. She said she wanted to read it to someone and you weren't answering your phone.
I was doing the building's quarterly electrical check until 9:00. I know. She mentioned that. A small pause. I hope that's all right.
That she called me. He looked at her for a moment. What did the letter say? He said. Victoria's careful eyes broke into something warmer.
They thanked her for the observation. They said the diagram issue would be referred to their editorial team for the next revision cycle. She paused. They called her feedback substantive and well-reasoned. He was quiet.
She screamed. Victoria said loud enough that I had to hold the phone away from my ear. That sounds right. She made me stay on the phone for 45 minutes after that. Victoria's voice was doing the complicated thing again.