August 3, 2000
Palo Alto, CA
Will
“Slow down, Will,” my dad said firmly, but I ignored him. We’d gotten a late start this morning, and I was pissed off about that. Grand should be out of surgery, or almost out of surgery by now. It was maddening to be dicking around at the airport while he was being operated on, instead of being here, where he needed us. “Will,” he all but shouted, but then gave up as I tore down the hallway. I came skidding around a corner and almost ran in