"It's just that I
haven't had a very good appetite lately."
"That's all right. You can take home leftovers if you'd like."
"Too late," Byron said, spearing the remaining half of sausage
from Peter's plate.
When Kate and Grace were out of earshot, Byron leaned across the
table. "You're a lucky fellow," he whispered. "She's a pretty
lady." He dropped a big wink.
"I know it," Peter agreed, looking out at the water. There was a
stirring in his chest, and he quickly turned his thoughts to
other things.
"Come on," Byron said, pushing away from the table. "Let's get
some air while the ladies fuss and giggle."
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 shirt 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.
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