“Bill, help me.”
“With what?” Bill asked, as he struggled himself to find an edge to the plastic wrap holding his sandwich hostage.
“The bed. I’ve got to improve my sleeping arrangements. Help me put the mattress on the floor. Better for my back. I want to sleep for a few hours.”
The rest of the late morning they spent arranging and re-arranging David’s bedroom. By the time they were done, the furniture had been moved, disassembled, or inverted. David’s comfort, if now not assured, had been augmented.
* * * *
Around three in the afternoon, Lou told Bill it was time to start their cocktail hour. As he sat on the day bed, Bill nursed a gin and tonic Lou had made him, while Lou commandeered the dining room table. They both talked to David, lying on his mattress on his bedroom’s floor, only his head visible. The rest of his body was hidden from view.
“Where shall we go for dinner tonight, boys?” Lou asked.
David’s disembodied head rolled slightly. “I’m not hungry.”