It's gonna knock his socks off."
Peter had been skeptical about meeting Byron's old friend, who
was due to arrive shortly. However, trusting Byron's judgment, he
had ultimately given in.
"I hope so," Peter said, then, "I'm going to check on Isle." He
excused himself.
"She's asleep," Grace whispered, glancing up from her book. Isle
slept peacefully beside her on the sofa.
"Any calls?" Peter said. The house and lab phones were on
separate lines, so that the men were not distracted while
working.
Grace gave a sympathetic shake of her head.
Peter had not heard from Kate since Isle's birth. He had called
her the night she'd departed, and tried to persuade her to
return. She had declined, and that was the last time they had
spoken.
He now had Isle, and Byron and Grace, a family of sorts, and
ISLE. The project had crystallized into a wondrous thing. This
afternoon's meeting could signal the beginning of something
great, something bigger than anything he had ever done at
Wallaby. Yet, if he could, Peter would trade all of it to have
Kate back. If only he could undo his mistake...
As if reading his mind, the older woman laid a hand on his wrist.
"Petey, you can call her, you know."
He shrugged. "I told her I would leave it up to her. That she's
eternally welcome, and we want her back. But I think I've lost
her for good, Grace.
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