Coffee and Martha Stewart's Pancakes
“Have a rough night?” Charlotte asked. She poured coffee into her mug and then filled his.
“That obvious, eh?” Edward stared at his Marvin the Martian mug
“You’re sure not pretty to look at if that’s what your asking,” she replied with a snicker. “By the way, I gave Jagdeep his medication. Pass the honey.”
Edward slid the jar across and cringed as he watched her put two heaping teaspoonfuls into her coffee. “I know. I heard you at midnight and four. You brushed against the shotgun on my lap when you passed.”
“I did? Where were you?” He pointed at the couch. “Why didn’t you say something?”
He glanced at the wall clock. “You looked like you were sleepwalking, didn’t want to wake you up. I’ll give Jagdeep his eight o’clock.”
“Why were you sleeping there? And with a shotgun?’
“And with a dog.” Edward sipped his coffee. “That’s it. I couldn’t. After Jagdeep gave me that note, every sound in the place kept me awake. Did you know the furnace comes on at five in the morning?”
“You set it.”
“Hmm.” He stood and went to the toaster and put in two slices. “Should I put in for you?” He waved a slice of bread in each hand.
“Please.” She picked up the spoon and stirred her coffee. “Where’s the dog?”
“So, you and Ginger now get along?” she asked.
The toast popped. “Is that her name?” He put the toast on two plates and buttered them. “She and I had a temporary truce, until the damn furnace came on.” He held up a bandaged finger. “Your laughter’s not comforting.”
“I can’t help it. Poor boo-boo. I’ll get the jam,” she said, barely containing her laughter.
“No need. Honey will do. Honey.”
Charlotte pouted. “I’ve hurt your feelings.”
“Only an itsy-bitsy bit,” he replied with a wink. He put the plates on the table and sat. After a few sips from his mug, he asked, “Have you thought we might be way over our heads?”
Charlotte placed her mug on the table. “I think it may be too early to tell, but yes it has crossed my mind.” She picked up a slice of toast and began to eat. “Have you heard of strategic connectivity before?”
Edward sat back in his chair and thought for a moment. “No, I can’t say I have.”
“Neither had I until I worked with Beatrice. It’s how groups like TPR sustain themselves, through the ease of online networking. The internet facilitates their ideological affirmation and recruitment globally. What stands out in their communication is an allusion to a collective “we.” At first glance, I thought it seemed paradoxical. But th...