[For Eli]

Michael had the remains of a croissant on a plate in front of him, the paper he'd been intending to read next to the plate, and his phone on top of that. In his left hand, he still held the coffee he'd ordered, but it was hovering just shy of his mouth.

He was staring at his phone like it was a rattling snake rather than drinking his coffee and seriously kicking himself for giving the number to this particular new mother. After the first two calls he'd let her go to voicemail, to no effect, she'd just called back after leaving the message to make sure the message went through.

When five full minutes passed without it ringing, he decided to brave a sip of desperately needed coffee.