Part 28 (2/2)

Peter had to laugh at that one. The thought of Kate ”fussing”

about with Grace in the kitchen made Peter both happy and sad at the same time. It was what he wanted now, yet it was what she would not be for him. How could she be so sure they weren't ready to settle down? As far as children were concerned, they could adopt. Talking about kids, and knowing that there were none in his and Kate's near future, had turned his dark mood of late even darker.

As they headed out onto the deck, Byron pulled a small pouch from his pants pocket, and from his s.h.i.+rt pocket he produced a briar pipe. He filled the pipe in silence as they strolled along the dock. When they reached the end, Byron lit up. The glow of his match reflected back in the black water. That is just what I need, Peter thought, a spark to go off inside my head.

”You know, boy,” Byron said, shaking out the match, ”I like you.”

He inhaled on the pipe, regarding Peter for a moment.

”Thanks,” Peter said. ”You're a good guy, too.”

”That's what my wife tells me,” Byron said, exhaling a cloud of blue smoke. ”You and I ought to take a float out on this baby,”

he said, poking his pipe at his boat, the ”Net Work.” He sat down, dangling his feet above the low tide, and Peter sat down beside him. ”Listen, I'm gonna tell you something, and I want you to promise me you'll think about it. Okay?”

”Sure.”

”You're a bright fella. But you're walking around like a little boy who lost his old dog and hates the world for it,” he said.

Peter exhaled, his breath forming a faint mist in the cool air, and looked down into the water.

”Son, everything dies. It's how life goes on. Your pooch, he's gone. It's time to go pick a new puppy, and train it, and love it, and make it great.”

”That's easy for you to say. You've done it all and it lasted longer for you, most of your life, and you have a wife now and you're happy.”

”Poppys.h.i.+t!” Byron said. ”Do you think the 990 was the only thing I ever did with ICP? No way. I did all sorts of things with them, but the difference is that I stayed on board, and times were different then. I was trained to do the things I did. You're different.”

”How so?”

”You're a rebel. I was too, but in a different sort of way.

You're a real risk-taker, but not for the sake of taking risks.

You do it because it's the only way you know how to be.”

Peter nodded.

”You've got to understand and accept that it just takes a little healing, over time. Time. I can tell you this because I've been through it myself. I almost died once, had that heart attack I mentioned to you the other day. Got it from not letting go.

Almost lost my life. But worse, after I got out of the hospital, I almost lost my wife. Ah, I don't want to get into all that.

Just understand something mister, that this isn't the last time it's going to happen to you. You have to know that now, while things are germinating up here.” He tapped a finger to his head.

”When the next thing comes, when you start out all clumsy and getting into it all over again, even if it's way back in the back of your heart, you have to accept that someday it's going to change, end, and then you start all over again. And again and again. You keep doing it. Over and over. And it gets better and better with age. Just like they say.”

Peter felt choked up listening to Byron so candidly share his experience. ”But,” Peter started with a little more than a quiet puff from his lips. ”But it hurts.”

”Of course it hurts,” Byron said. ”But you pick up, dust yourself off, and go at it again. Where do you think all this age-old advice comes from? It's truth, friend, that's why you're hearing it from me. Sure thing.”

”I don't know. It's not all the same, you've got more that matters,” Peter said, hitching his thumb absently in the direction of Byron's home.

<script>