The casino was twenty minutes from Harwick Lane, which made Callen Street a midpoint, and Gerald was standing outside the pharmacy that stayed open late with the posture of someone who had been standing in the same place long enough to start feeling visible about it.
He saw Mike from half a block away and something in his shoulders went through a very specific sequence of developments.
Mike reached him and looked at him for a moment without saying anything. Gerald had the face of someone who had been standing on a street corner at midnight running through scenarios and arriving at worse ones each time.
"Are you hurt?" Mike said. 'Fucking god...! Why do I have to say bullshit like this?!'
'But this is all just an act... I need to become the Mike who cares, but deep down... he doesn't give a fuck at all because he only cares about fucking his wife.'
"No," Gerald said.
Then he said to him, "Are you though? You're so brave for doing that, you know."
