Page 56 of After His Eulogy
“Yes.”
“Are you mad.”
“I am professionally angry. I am not personally mad. There is a difference. I am also relieved you called. There is no contradiction.”
“Okay.”
“I am going to hang up. Two weeks.”
“Two weeks.”
He hangs up.
The apartment is very quiet. Reed is at the desk. I am on the couch. The phone is between us, on his desk, the screen lit then dim then lit then dim. Neither of us moves for a while.
“Okay,” Reed says.
“Okay.”
“That was…“
“Yes.”
“That went better than I had…“
“I know.”
“I had been imagining it would be…“
“I know.”
He turns the chair. He looks at me.
“He didn’t yell.”
“He did not.”
“He said he was professionally angry.”
“That is a thing he said.”
“What does that mean.”
“I think it means he is going to put it in a memo.”
Reed almost laughs. He does not laugh. His face does the corner-of-the-mouth thing.
“Three to six months,” he says.
“Yeah.”
“That’s a long time.”
“It’s also not.”
“No. It is not.”
He looks at me.
