"Amazing, isn't it," she said. "What a little time can do?"
"Oh, Ivy," he said, turning his hands helplessly. "I'm sorry.
About all of it."
"Ha," she said. "Please. I've been in the desert learning how to
stop apologizing. Take my advice, save it."
"But we don't have to be like this. Can't we try to be, I don't
know, nice?"
"Um, no. Not now, anyway. This is business, Peter. Maybe in a
while, after we close our agreement."
"But I don't want you to be angry forever."
"Sit down," she said, and he did. She remained standing however,
looking down at him. "Poor Peter. Just a lost little boy. Look,
I'm not pissed off anymore. Well, not too angry. I'm not sorry,
either. What's done is done. I am definitely not having an easy
time of it, coming off the drugs and all. But I will get there.
All I want is to see my Isle, and my Isle, and how they've grown
in your care." She seated herself on the concrete beside him. "I
thought for sure you'd have ten lawyers here with you," she said.
"Nope," he said. "Where are yours?"
"Don't need them for this. They told you what I want." She
withdrew a single folded sheet document from inside her light
jacket. "It's all here. Plain and simple."
He accepted her pen and the contract, spread the page down on the
concrete.
But he didn't sign it.
Instead he put the pen down, looked her in the eye.
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