He could have a cup of decaf out on the patio out back and see what transpires. He put his mug in the Keurig and put his socks away while his coffee brewed.Sitting out on the patio was his favorite thing to do on the warmer nights. He loved hearing the birds tweet their goodnights and if he was lucky he could hear a few tree frogs chirping in the park a couple of blocks away. He stole a quick glance up at Diana’s window. Her lights were off. ‘Must still be down in the laundry room,’ he thought. An image of her wrapping her long runners’ legs wrapped around his waist with her on the dryer crept in. He shook his head quickly so that maybe he could concentrate on seeing her in real life.A few sips later, her light came on. He craned his neck just a bit yet no sight of her yet. His phone buzzed. He looked down and saw it was a text from Diana.“Are you outside?” it read. Robert wondered where this was going.“Having a cup of decaf,” he texted back.No response. Then he just happened to look. .." I made as if to leave but he stepped back, holding the door open, and I walked through, stumbling through a clutter of junk mail and newspapers just inside the doorway. "Been away long?" Couple of months." Naismith was striding down the hallway into the room he used as his study. It had always been my favourite room, with its views across the rolling close-cropped lawn to where the yellowing sun had already dipped behind the South Downs. "Been down under. Australia. Coffee?"His voice drifted through from the kitchen as I strolled over to the window. Someone had been looking after the garden all through the early part of the summer. "No Mrs Thing?" I asked. Naismith was more or less helpless without his housekeeper. To judge from the domesticated sounds reaching me, he seemed to have discovered the art of making instant coffee; or perhaps not, as he came in carrying one mug and one bone china cup and saucer, which he offered to me."Had a bit of an accident earlier, this is our last.
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