Gerald is sitting in a wingchair in the lobby, waiting. His walker’s in easy reach of his right hand. Periodically his head drops to his chest and he wakes up startled. Tom comes to a stop in front of him and coughs gently into his hand. “Sorry I’m late, heavy traffic.”

“No problem, Tom. I like being alone with my thoughts.”

“Is that the good news or the bad news?”

“You tell me. I’m trying to be philosophical. Like my doc tells me, ‘a day at a time.’”