This time, Jim doesn't just sit in one place. He quietly cleans up the house and makes dinner for himself and Sheila. Then he works on lesson plans. Then he reads a little of the Library of America Classics Thoreau.
The house feels peculiarly silent, although he has Tchaikovsky playing on stereo. On the other hand, deep in his stomach, he feels a strange kind of relief he hasn't felt in a very long time. It doesn't eclipse the sorrow, but it's there.