“That was Glaub on the phone,” Arnie Kott said. “The psychiatrist. You ever heard of him?” “No,” Jack said. “What do you do, live your life entirely with your head stuck in the back of machines?” Jack looked up, met the man’s gaze. “I’ve got a wife and son. That’s my life. What I’m doing right now is a means of keeping my family going.” He spoke calmly. Arnie did not seem to take offense; he even smiled. “Something to drink?” Arnie asked. “Coffee, if you have it.” “I’ve got authentic Home coffee,” Arnie said. “Black?” “Black.” “Yeah, you look like a black coffee man. You think you can fix that
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