The clock on the mantel showed ten minutes past eleven when Gerald’s breathing slowed into the heavy, rhythmic drone of deep sleep. He was sprawled in the brown corduroy recliner with his chin tucked into his chest. His fingers had loosened their grip on the gray plastic edges of his laptop, which tilted precariously on his knees.
I stood up from the sofa, my back giving its familiar, dull click as I straightened my spine. I took three steps across the braided rug, careful to avoid the squeaky floorboard near the television set. I reached down and slipped my fingers under the base of the machine to lift it before it slid to the floor.
The screen stayed bright as I moved it toward the mahogany coffee table. On the display, three tabs were open in his browser. The first was his school district email, and the second was a local news article about high school football rankings.
