I walk across what constitutes the yard, up the wooden stairs, and sit next to him, resting my elbows on my knees. I have a reputation for knowing what to say. I understand where it comes from, but rallying speeches are one thing. The quiet things, the deeply personal stuff, that's harder.

I want to tell him it's good to have him back, but it would be incredibly selfish of me.

So for the time being, I don't say anything.