Page 114 of Full Contact

I put two slices in. He dropped butter into a pan and cracked eggs one-handed while it foamed. Peaches climbed the little wooden chair to supervise.

“Is Dana still standing on pencils at the gym?” Trier asked.

“That route came down before Christmas. The new one has bigger holds and a much worse overhang. She hates it. That means she has to climb it every week.”

He poured the eggs into the pan. “Could I come with you some Tuesday?”

I turned to look at him. I’d imagined bringing him: introducing him at the desk and showing him where I started. In my version, I’d been the one who asked. It was even better to have him ask.

“Mark,” he said. “The toast.”

It had popped while I envisioned Trier in the climbing gym. I took it out and put in two more.

“Yes,” I said. “Come. There’s an orange route under the new overhang that’s beaten me two weeks running. You can watch me lose to it.”

“What do I need?”

“Clothes you can move in. Don’t wear shorts. There’s a beginner orientation, and you rent shoes there. They’re tight. Your toes curl inside them.”

“On purpose?”

“So you can stand on small things.”

“Like pencil-wide ledges.”

“Eventually.”

We ate at the counter, side by side, our elbows bumping. Peaches moved to the far end where she could keep us both in view.

“I want to meet Dana and Felix properly,” Trier said. “I’d like faces to go with the stories.”

There was a home game with Minnesota on Monday night and practice Tuesday afternoon, done by five if Markel didn’t get ideas. My Tuesday had nothing I couldn’t leave by four. I booked him into the six-fifteen orientation.

“Will Felix time me right away,” he asked, “or is there a grace period?”

“Felix times everyone. He timed me the first night.”

“How did you do?”

“I don’t remember.”

I texted Dana and Felix while Trier ran the dishwater.

Mark: Trier’s coming Tuesday. Orientation at 6:15.

Dana: FINALLY. Tell him to wear something he doesn’t mind getting chalk on.

Felix: Do professional athletes qualify for the beginner smoothie rules, or does he start at full liability?

I read it aloud.

“Ask him to put the rules in writing,” Trier said. “Before I agree to anything. Professional athletes do contracts.”

Felix: He’s going to be a problem.

Trier dried his hands and read the thread over my shoulder. He went to refill Peaches’s water. A separate message from Dana appeared, and I opened it.

Dana: Glad he’s coming. Can I still steal you for ten minutes Tuesday? Anders stuff. Not urgent, but I need to say it out loud to somebody.