“I went by there just now before coming here, and she was sleeping,” Rebecca added, trying to steady herself with the practical facts the way she always did. “I sat with her for a while, but I didn’t want to wake her. So I told them I would be back first thing in the morning, by seven, something like that, and that I’d spend, oh, probably the whole day there, see what it feels like, see what happens. It could be the whole weekend, who knows. They promised they would call me here if there were any changes in the night.”

“Changes?”

“If they think she’s about to die. If her breathing pattern changes into Cheyne-Stokes breathing or anything like that. They’ll check on her a lot. I told them I was just a few minutes away.”

“I can go with you,” George offered.

“If something happens tonight, that would be great. But you really don’t have to be there at dawn with me. If you want to come by a little later in the morning, like, whatever works for you, nineish, that would be great. I don’t know what your day is supposed to be.”

“How are you doing?” George asked, taking both of her socked feet in his hands. Rebecca favored stripes. Today’s socks were fuzzy, blue and green, which picked up the green in her sweater. He raised them up to his face and kissed each foot ceremoniously. “Are you okay? I love your little square feet. And your feet always smell so sweet! Where do such sweet little square feet come from?”

“Feet run in my family,” Rebecca said wryly.

“Ha.”

“And noses. I guess I’m okay. I’m sad.”

“She’s had an amazing and incredibly long life,” George said unnecessarily.

“I know, I know. It’s just that once she got so old, it seemed as though she would just keep living indefinitely. She probably thought she would too.”

“Maybe she’s ready.”

“Oh, I’m sure she’s ready. I think she’s surprised that she’s still here. I’m the one who’s not ready,” said Rebecca.

“I know. But you really are. You know that. You want her to have a good death,” he said gently, still holding her feet.

“It’s true, I do.”

They sat in silence for a while, just gazing at each other, the silence as natural to both of them as it was uncommon in most other people. Joe Green jumped off Rebecca and hit the floor with sudden urgency, as if he had just recalled a prior engagement. Bits of his fur lingered in the air behind him, and Rebecca wiped some stray hairs off her damp face with her sleeve. They both watched as the cat sat abruptly and washed intently for a moment before flinging himself away down the length of the loft toward whatever attracted him next.

“He really knows how to live in the moment,” Rebecca said.

“So, Beck, listen. At dinner, I have to tell you about this genetics lab at NYU, where I was today. They’re doing this incredible research with stem cells, and I have a lot of new stuff. I could go in about ten directions, just from what they showed me over there today.”