Page 182 of Full Contact

“Where’s the current insurance information?” he asked.

“In the back pocket.”

I opened the folder and showed him. We checked the numbers, then he unclipped the old sheet and replaced it. I leaned down to kiss him before he could put the folder aside. His glasses pressed against my cheek, and I stayed there until he laughed softly and took them off.

Mark was putting his glasses back on when my phone rang. It was Varga.

I answered. “What?”

“I’ve been demoted.”

Mark looked up at me. “Did you send him the sheet?”

“I sent both of them a copy yesterday.”

I put Varga on speaker. “You’re still on the list,” I said.

“Below Mark.”

“Mark lives here.”

“I know where he lives. Rook made me carry his ottoman.”

“You volunteered,” Rook said in the background.

“I volunteered to help. Nobody mentioned stairs.”

“There were three and an elevator,” I said.

“While carrying an ottoman.”

Mark rested his hand on my knee. “Thank you again,” he said. “We found the right spot for it today.”

“Good. Leave it there.”

“What did you want?” I asked.

“To discuss my standing in this family.”

“You’re on speaker,” I said. “Peaches can hear your appeal.”

We waited. Across the room, Peaches washed between two toes.

“Nothing?” Varga asked.

“She’s considering it.”

Rook’s voice came closer. “We’re cooking tomorrow. Come around five.”

“Both of you,” Varga added. “In case Trier thinks we only want the cat.”

I looked at Mark. “Anything tomorrow?”

“Nothing until dinner at Rook and Varga’s, apparently.”

“Good. Bring the bread from that place near Mark’s,” Varga said.

“That’s where I used to live,” Mark said. “We have a better bakery two blocks from here.”