8
In November the Portland nights grew darker earlier. Whatever sparse light filtered through during the day was blocked by night under a heavier stratum of clouds. When Mark awoke in the darkness, he was surprised to see that it was only 11:42 p.m. He reached across the bed and felt nothing but cotton sheets and an empty pillow. He sat up, saw the light in the living room and heard muffled voices from the television.
He found Andrew on the sofa, his laptop on his lap, papers scattered everywhere. Andrew had on his pajama bottoms, the blue ones, and no shirt. He had been a college athlete, Andrew, rowing was his sport, and he still had the muscles to prove it. Mark stood in the doorway, admiring the view. Andrew had no idea he was there. He hadn’t lifted his eyes once from his work. Fina
