After spending intensive time with Steve during the six-week period when I was hauling him to job interviews, to get work boots, to the DMV (multiple encounters), and then to work daily (the 6 p.m. to 2:30 a.m. shift that suits his internal clock so well but wreaked havoc on mine), I suddenly realized the other day that I've completely lost track of Steve's life now that he's riding his motorcycle again. He's recently-asleep when I wake up in the morning, and he gets up mid-afternoon to take off for work several hours later. Two days ago I stepped into the living room on my way back from moving up laundry in the garage, and as he glanced up from the TV, we both paused and said 'Hi', as if we were friends who hadn't seen each other in months.
About 5:30 this morning, however, I woke up to what sounded
like gagging in the bathroom (next to my bedroom.) I could tell it was
Steve, and I knocked on the door to make sure everything was okay. As it
turned out, he was trying to get rid of a popcorn hull that had lodged in
the back of his throat. But when he came out we chatted for a while as he
got ready for bed, and I was able to catch up on his work life that's all
but disappeared from my radar. It was a nice few minutes.
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