There is a knock on the door. "Come in", say I, knowing it could only be either Carl or Francois, more likely Carl, and both of them are completely welcome here. I reach for the night lamp. I have been lying stretched out, fully clothed on top of my father's bed.
"Am I disturbing you?" says Carl, who walks in and seats himself on the edge of the bed next to me.
"I was just about to undress and climb under the covers."
"Don't let me stop you."
"Okay", say I, pulling off my shirt, then my socks, and then my jeans which I fold carefully on top of the chair next to the bed, then climb under the covers. With Carl, I feel I can do this and still feel completely comfortable with him sitting there. But he is not going to sleep with me, That is where the line is drawn, and we both seem to know and respect this.
"How are you?" say I, and he sits quietly for a bit, fiddling restlessly with his fingers.
He lets out a deep sigh "I don't know", he says. "I just don't know."
"How do you like being here?"
He smiles deeply and broadly. "I love your house. I am going to live here with you, if that's still alright, with you and Francisco both."
"Then what is it?"
"Are you happy. I mean that I'm here. That we're here."
"I would be lying if I were to say that it's not an adjustment. This is, for me, an adjustment. a very worthy adjustment. I am hoping that you will both stay on with me. But what is it?"
"The big house. my sister. my mother. All that stuff. And not just the material acquisitions, but everything. Chris..I don't want to go back there. I never want to see that place again..."
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