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“Can you tell me more about the strands?” I ask. “That sounds so amazing, but I’m just not sure I get it. And what do you mean you’ve done it yourself? When? What are you talking about?”
Dr. Venn chuckles and pats his hand in the air the way I saw him do with Red when the dog was barking hysterically at the chair. “All in time. We have so much to talk about, you and I. But I’m afraid my days of rambling through the night are long behind me. If I rest now, we can have at least a few more hours this afternoon.”
“Oh, of course!” I try not to let him see I’m disappointed. Every minute with this man feels like a gift. I shouldn’t be greedy. “Are you warm enough, sir? Can I get you anything—maybe some hot soup or something?”
“Yes, soup sounds nice,” he says. “I brought a sack lunch, but s
