One evening in late January, The Child and I drive over to Whole Foods. It’s early evening, still light out but drizzly in typical Seattle fashion. We have to go to the other side of town to get there, on local roads.
Suddenly, The Child says, There He is. She points to The Departed.
He’s walking on the sidewalk, with his company laptop in a bag slung over his shoulder. He’s headed in the direction of the apartment he moved to when he left so abruptly.
That’s odd, I say. Why would he be walking with his laptop?
Maybe he wanted to use the WiFi at Starbucks, says The Child.
He has WiFi at home, I tell her.
Maybe he didn’t want to be at home, she says. Maybe he wanted a change of scenery.
Maybe, I say, but I also point out: That doesn’t seem like him. For eight years, he barely left our house.
It’s rather odd, we agree, but we are at a loss to figure it out.