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the good news, Pete. I’m happy for you.”
    â€œWait, wait, baby brother. Don’t hang up yet. Don’t you know all that hard work will kill you?”
    This from a man who never seemed to stop working, who was always pitching and schmoozing, who lived in Will’s former high-status neighborhood, who owned a Mercedes SUV, a Jaguar, and a Harley? “It doesn’t seem to be killing you.”
    â€œI thrive on it, you know that, little bro. Action’s my middle name.”
    Asshole’s your middle name .
    â€œYou’re the sensitive type. Always have been. You need more downtime than I do.”
    He thinks I’m backsliding because I moved into a smaller house and drive an Outback . Will quelled the thought. When you assume . . . Rorschach stood on his hind legs, put his paws on Will’s shoulders and shoved his nose against his, swiping one side, then the other. A cat kiss, marking him with friendly feline phermerones. He trilled again, the sound going up the scale like a question.
    â€œWhat the hell was that?” Pete asked.
    â€œNothing. The computer.” Will never mentioned the cats. They’d just be fuel for more “good-natured” ribbing. Men were supposed to have dogs: retrievers or pit bulls. Macho pets for macho men. Creatures that followed orders and gave unquestioning devotion. Will preferred the contrary, independent feline personality, but that was something beyond Pete’s comprehension. His brother liked to give orders and he liked them followed to the letter. Will had a childhood wealth of experience with that.
    â€œThat’s a sissy-sounding computer you’ve got there, Willy-boy—sorry . . . Will . So, like I was saying, we’re going digital. Eventually, all our customers will be switched over. When would you like your new box?”
    â€œNew box?”
    â€œNew cable, new box. Your neighborhood is wired and ready to go.”
    â€œI don’t need to upgrade. I don’t watch that much television.”
    One of those annoying chuckles. “Everybody’s being switched over—it’s called modernization. You know, like who uses anything but a cell phone these days?”
    â€œ I don’t use a cell phone.”
    â€œYou’re a Luddite? My brother? Still wear button fly pants, or are zippers allowed now?”
    â€œI have a beeper,” Will said, sorry he felt compelled to say anything.
    â€œYou’re a shrink. How can you not have a cell? I mean, don’t you have patients you have to talk out of committing suicide, things like that?”
    Guilt . He probably should have a cell for that very reason, but the beeper itself was more intrusive than he liked after a long day of listening to other people’s problems. At least it gave him a little distance. “My beeper is all I need.”
    â€œSuit yourself, buddy. I’ve got a man in your neighborhood today and tomorrow. Want to leave a key under the doormat in the morning? He’ll be in and out in ten minutes. Doesn’t steal, I give you my personal guarantee.”
    â€œNo, I won’t be leaving a key under the mat. I don’t let anyone in the house when I’m not present.”
    â€œSame old Willy. Will, I mean.” Another smarmy chuckle. “Doesn’t trust anyone. Tell you what. I’ll stop by and install it for you myself.”
    â€œSorry, but no one comes in here when I’m not home.”
    The chuckle turned into laughter, a false “ho-ho-ho.” “No, baby brother, I meant while you’re home. I haven’t seen you in months. I miss you, little buddy. And you haven’t ever invited me over to see your new place. What’s it been? Two, three years?”
    â€œI’m very busy right now, Pete. I don’t really have time for a visit.”
    â€œHey, hey, no problem. You need to relax, you know?”
    â€œI know.” But not with you .
    â€œListen, let me check