We all woke up one by one. I was first. I went out on the deck and sat on top of the hot tub cover and meditated. I thought it might cave in but it seemed sturdy and it’s nicer to meditation sitting up higher so I decided to risk it. River came out and sat at the table, put on his headphones, and opened his laptop; didn’t say a word, which I appreciated. 

Then Nick was next. He sat at the table and wrote in his notebook, looking up occasionally and thinking, before bowing his head again and starting to scratch. I could hear his palm sliding across the page as he was going along from sentence to sentence. I wanted to ask him what he was writing about. I told myself I’d ask him later in the day. I love to read other people’s writing, especially what they’ve written in their journals when they don’t expect anyone else to read it. Eventually everyone was getting up, coming down the stairs; some more bleary-eyed, those who stayed up later and drank more. 

Braxton bowed to me at the foot of the couch where I was lying and reading, mocking my attempts at peace and quiet study in the morning, as it should be I think, but Braxton would joke at a funeral so I never think much of it and just bowed back and go along with him and have fun with it and smile and really marvel that he’s able to come up with so many jokes all the time, an art form in its own right.  

Nick came in to get the coffee pot and asked me if I wanted some and I said I was alright. I drink tea instead. Too much caffeine in coffee. Cameron came down and asked about the coffee but couldn’t find any mugs in the cabinet. River said, “Did you check the dishwasher?” Sure enough, there were all the mugs. 

And one by one they all came, some from the room upstairs, others from the rooms down the hall, and all ended up on the deck drinking their coffee, telling stories—one person getting the stage and everyone else sitting around listening.