"I don't want to make you sad."
"You won't. Finish it."
"My mother goes to the cemetery every year in the spring and puts
flowers on your mother's grave. I go with her. I didn't realize until
the first time we went how much my mother loved her."
"I wondered who put them there. It's nice knowing. What's being saida
what some people are saying about my father would have got her Irish up.
She'd have scalded more than a few tongues by now."
"That's not your way, Ethan. You have to tend to that business your own
way."
"They would both want us to do what's best for Seth. That would come
first."
"You are doing what's best for him. Every time I see him he looks
lighter. There was such a heaviness over him when he first came here.
Professor Quinn was working his way through that, but he had such
troubles of his own. You know how troubled he was, Ethan."
"Yeah." And the guilt weighed like a stone, dead center in his heart. "I
know."
"Now I have made you sad." She shifted toward him so that their knees
bumped. "Whatever troubled him, it was never you. You were one strong,
steady light in his life. Anyone could see that."
"If I'd asked more questionsa" he began.
"It's not your way," she said again and, forgetting her hand was sticky,
touched it to his cheek. "You knew he would talk to you when he was
ready, when he could."
"Then it was too late."
"No, it never is." Her fingers skimmed lightly over his cheek. "There's
always a chance. I don't think I could get from one day to the next if I
didn't believe there's always a chance. Don't worry," she said softly.
He felt something move inside him as he reached up to cover her hand
with his. Something shifting and opening. Then Aubrey let out a wild
squeal of joy.
"Grandpa!"
Grace's hand jerked, then dropped like a stone. All the warmth that had
flowed out of her chilled. Her shoulders went straight and stiff as she
turned forward again and watched her father walk toward them.
"There's my dollbaby. Come see Grandpa."
Grace let her daughter go, watched her race and be caught. Her father
didn't wince or shy away from the sticky hands or smeared lips. He
laughed and hugged and smacked his lips when kissed lavishly.
"Mmm, strawberry. Gimme more." He made munching noises on Aubrey's neck
until she screamed with delight. Then he hitched her easily on his hip
and crossed the slight distance to his daughter. And no longer smiled.
"Grace, Ethan. Taking a Sunday stroll?"
Grace's throat was dry, and her eyes burned. "Ethan offered to buy us
some ice cream."
"Well, that's nice."
"You're wearing some of it now," Ethan commented, hoping to ease some of
the rippling tension that moved in the air.
Pete glanced down to his shirt, where Aubrey had transferred some of her