“Massaging her feet,” he answered patiently. “What did you think I was doing?”

Jackson’s mouth remained open in surprise. After a minute he moved to a space next to Bette on the couch, and sat down gingerly.

A few minutes later, Andrew laid down the foot he’d been massaging, and pushed himself off of the floor. Jackson stood also as Andrew straightened out his suit and then extended his hand to Jackson with a smile. Jackson shook his head, and said quietly, “Mr. Green…”

“Andrew, please,” Andrew cut in.

“Umm… even Peter called you Mr. Green,” Jackson answered with a shake of his head. “I suppose that’s the title that a man who is majority shareholder of a $50 billion enterprise gets to be called.”

Andrew laughed quietly, “Hmmm… he may have called me Mr. Green behind my back, but I can assure you Peter called me “Andrew” to my face.”

They shared another laugh, and after a moment quieted down. Jackson began to feel uncomfortable as the silence lengthened.

“So I’m guessing from her stirring rhetoric during the memorial service that my staff told me about that the police haven’t found out who was behind this?” Andrew asked, finally breaking the silence. His face was serious, and his eyes probed Jackson’s.

Jackson pursed his lips, shook his head quickly, but said nothing.

Andrew crossed his arms in front of him, and his demeanor remained serious. “I’m guessing they’re stuck? Or at a standstill?”

Jackson remained silent and crossed his arms also. He knew that with Andrew Green’s resources and connections, he’d be able to find the answers to those questions himself, without asking Jackson. So it was likely that he knew the answers already. Was he just making conversation, then?

Andrew’s eyes softened as he turned to look at Bette and observed her for a minute. He asked Jackson without turning his head, “What about her? How is she feeling these days?”

Jackson turned to look at Bette also and thought about how he should answer the question, or whether he should. He decided to say something that seemed obvious to anyone who’d heard her talk at the memorial, “She’s angry.”

Andrew nodded his head and said nothing. They remained quiet for a few more minutes, both observing Bette, and lost to their own thoughts. Finally, Andrew uncrossed his arms and turned to Jackson, “Hmm… well the only cure for that is time, I guess.”