"They do, yes," he said, and thought of his own past, giving her a grim smile. Unfortunately, he couldn't change anything, and now that he'd missed Bill's wedding, he was only digging himself a deeper hole.
He picked up an orange and asked the witch behind the counter for the chicken salad, murmuring his thanks when she handed it over.
"Oh?" he asked, even though he was aware of a few of the cases, having taken the minutes at the meetings. "Well, I suppose that's good. I don't mind having a full plate." He picked up a plate of apple crisp, glad that he'd come down to the cafeteria, after all. "It's better than dealing with idle thoughts and the like. I've found that the less I do, the more time I have to fret. I'm a bit like, ah, a bit like my mother that way."
He cleared his throat a little and pulled a few coins out of his pocket to pay for his meal at the register.