Peter stood up. "Thanks for letting her stay here tonight. I'll
bring her over tomorrow afternoon, if that's okay."
"Sure," Ivy said. "A deal's a deal."
"Thanks."
Peter had offered to marry Ivy, but she had declined. In their
out of court settlement, Peter had agreed to child-support
payments, and Ivy had granted him visitation rights.
For the rights to her ISLE hardware and software design, ICP paid
Ivy six million dollars.
They hugged, and then she was gone.
He sat back down beside Isle and she stirred. He took her in his
arms.
"You miss Grandma Gracie and Grandpa Byron already?" he said,
pretending she understood every word. "Me too," he said.
Byron and Grace had left a few hours ago for Maine, to take care
of some things and plan their move west. They intended to find a
vacation home in California, where they would reside for however
long Byron managed Wallaby.
Peter's own home now felt like it used to, before Isle. Quiet,
empty. Yet at this moment, it was more full of life than ever.
But this, he had to keep reminding himself, was temporary. That
was the deal. But it was better than nothing at all. Better than
being completely alone.
The next song started playing on the disc player. Kate's voice
chased away the silence, replaced it with the missing element.
"When you're a little older," he told Isle, "I'm going to teach
you how to sing just like that.
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