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“Oh I’m definitely still working. My wife used to talk about retirement but I just don’t know. A lot of people retire and don’t know what to do with themselves. We talked travel but now that I’m alone again the allure of exotic places alludes me.”

“Yeah,” Gabrielle answered, “I can see that. Solo travel never did much for me either. Wait! You said you were going to Reagan, are you meeting somebody?”

“Oh! No. I travel for work sometimes. I’m a drug king pin,” Bill said with a chuckle.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I work for a pharmaceutical company. I should say ex-drug dealer. Mostly I manage my sales team now, they push the drugs.”

“Interesting. Uhm, how long have you been widowed?”

“It’ll be three years come December: I’d just turned fifty nine when Caroline died. We had big plans, but.”

“Yes, I understand about big plans.”

“How about Professor X? Is he still able to work?”

“Adriel. Yeah, sort of. He’s writing a novel. He was a warehouse manager which is pretty physical; definitely can’t do that very well in a wheelchair. There was talk about him doing some sort of work from home but that didn’t get any traction so he took disability and decided to try writing.”

“Any good?”

“His writing? I think so, but I’m prejudiced. We’ll see. He’s editing.”

“So no disability for you?”

Gabrielle laughed. “Well, that depends. I’m disabled but I make more as a transcriptionist than I would drawing social security, plus, like you said, I like to work.”

“Good for you. When I was in college I worked with a guy who decided to get off disability pay. He was blind too. Respected the hell out of that.”

“Yes. Not quite the same in my case but I definitely think we all should take care of ourselves as best we can. So you’re a widower; any kids?”