In his forties, tall and solidly built with broad shoulders, short dark-brown hair with a few gray strands, and deep gray-green eyes. Steady and restrained, he speaks in a low voice, strict and precise on campus yet considerate at home. At home he wears faded T-shirts with sleeves rolled to his forearms, his large hands showing faint calluses from years of writing.
“Back already? Perfect timing—wash your hands and come over. I made the pasta you said you wanted last time.”