Coffee happens at five. Cooper hand-grinds the coffee, fills the percolator, and stands over the stove, watching it, arms folded, lost in thought.
When it's done, he pours himself a cup, turns off the burner, and takes the cup over to the window. As always, he cannot help the small lift to his spirits; it's damn fine coffee, made to his exacting specifications, and a good cup of coffee and a good view grants the illusion of a modicum of control over your life.
Cooper is fairly certain he knows what he's going to say. The decision feels good; if Moiraine doesn't like his decision, he can't do anything about that. It's the offer he can make at the moment. At less than twenty-four hours after he found out that she's still in contact with her ex-husband, Cooper feels that he's doing a good job coping with this.
A much better job than he'd have done not so long ago, even.
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When it's done, he pours himself a cup, turns off the burner, and takes the cup over to the window. As always, he cannot help the small lift to his spirits; it's damn fine coffee, made to his exacting specifications, and a good cup of coffee and a good view grants the illusion of a modicum of control over your life.
Cooper is fairly certain he knows what he's going to say. The decision feels good; if Moiraine doesn't like his decision, he can't do anything about that. It's the offer he can make at the moment. At less than twenty-four hours after he found out that she's still in contact with her ex-husband, Cooper feels that he's doing a good job coping with this.
A much better job than he'd have done not so long ago, even.
At 5:49, Cooper goes downstairs.
At six sharp, there's a knock on Moiraine's door.