Grendel comes up and sniffs me. I hold the envelope in my left hand and bend down to pet him with my right. He licks every one of my fingers, his tail wagging. “It’s good to see you too, buddy.”

“Kelly and the girls are over at a friend’s. Do you want a drink or something? I could sure use one.”

“Why not?”

I sit on the couch with the manuscript in my lap and Grendel at my feet. Music plays from somewhere in the house. I can tell it’s the jazz program that runs on the local public radio station, something Preston listens to almost every night.

He comes back with a bottle and two glasses and pours. He sits down across from me on the other side of the coffee table and drinks. I expect him to make a toast to Lance, but he doesn’t. He just throws back his shot and then pours another.

“You’re not touching yours,” he says.

“Not yet. I’m trying to stay clearheaded. For a change.”

“What’s in the envelope?” he asks.

I heft it in my hand and then toss it onto the table, where it lands with a splat. The noise makes Grendel jump.

“That’s my resignation from the university,” I say.

Preston holds his second shot halfway between the table and his mouth. He looks confused. “What are you talking about, Connor?”

“Just what I said,” I say, pointing to the bundle of papers. “That’s the end of my academic career.”

Preston puts the shot back on the table without drinking it. “It’s been a long day, Connor. Maybe the longest day ever. So do you mind not fucking around with me? What’s in the envelope? How is that giant thing a resignation? And why would you even be resigning?”