“Of course,” she said. “And you’ll do the same. It’s how we go on.”
From downstairs, Jeannie called, “Breakfast in ten, honey!”
“I’ve got to go,” Ralph said. “Thanks for being there.”
“You’re welcome,” she said. “Take care of yourself. Be safe. Wait for the dreams to end.”
“I will.”
“Goodbye, Ralph.”
“Goodbye.”
He paused and added, “I love you, Holly,” but not until he ended the call. It was the way he always did it, knowing if he actually said it to her, she would be embarrassed and tongue-tied. He went into the bathroom to shave. He was in his middle age now, and the first speckles of gray had begun to show in the stubble he covered with Barbasol, but it was his face, the one his wife and son knew and loved. It would be his face forever, and that was good.
That was good.