They moved from the table to the kitchen counter without anyone formally suggesting it, which was how the end of a good evening tends to redistribute itself. Maya made coffee without asking if anyone wanted it. Marc leaned against the counter with his cup and looked out the industrial window at the commercial block below.
"The Bella thing," Maya said to Mike at some point toward nine-thirty. "Presence versus patience."
"Are you going to use that somewhere?"
"Probably not," Mike said.
"But you filed it."
"I file everything," he said. "Most of it I never use."
"The rest turns out to be useful at a time I didn't predict."
"That's either a skill or a compulsion," Maya said.
"Both," Mike said.
Marc looked at him over the rim of his cup. "That's the second time tonight you've said 'both' to a question that expected one answer."
"Both is usually the more honest answer," Mike said.
