“We’ll see,” Kate said. “Maybe after the baby is born.”
This was a sore subject; Sara had wanted Pim to delay their departure until after the birth of their second child. But that wouldn’t be until nearly the end of the summer, far too late to plant. Nor did Pim, in her obstinate way, plan to return alone for the birth. I’ve done it before, she said. How hard can it be?
“Please, Mom?” Elle begged.
“I said, we’ll see.”
Hugs all around. Peter glanced at Sara; she was feeling it, too. Their children were leaving for good. It was what you were supposed to want, the thing you worked for, yet facing it was a different matter.
Caleb shook Peter’s hand, then pulled him into a masculine embrace. “So I guess this is it. Mind if I say some stupid things? Like, I love you. You’re still a terrible chess player, though.”
“I promise to practice. Who knows? Maybe you’ll find me out there before too long.”
Caleb grinned. “See? That’s what I’ve been telling you. No more politics. It’s time to find a nice girl and settle down.”
If you only knew, Peter thought. Every night I close my eyes and do just that.
He lowered his voice slightly. “Did you do like I asked?”
Caleb sighed indulgently.
“Humor your old man.”
“Yeah, yeah, I dug it.”
“And you used the steel framing I sent out? It’s important.”
“I did it just like you said, I promise. At least I’ve got someplace to sleep when Pim kicks me out.”
Peter looked up at his daughter-in-law, who had climbed onto the bench. Baby Theo, worn out by all the attention, had passed out in her arms.
Look after him for me, Peter signed.
I will.
The babies, too.
She smiled at him. The babies, too.
Caleb lifted himself onto the buckboard.
“Be safe,” Peter said. “Good luck.”
The indelible moment of departure: everyone stepped back as the wagon moved through the gate. Bill and the girls were the first to leave, followed by Kate and Hollis. Peter had a full schedule ahead of him, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to start his day.
Nor, apparently, could Sara. They stood together without speaking, watching the wagon bearing their children away.
“Why do I sometimes feel like they’re parenting us?” Sara said.
“They will be, soon enough.”
Sara snorted. “Now there’s something to look forward to.”
The wagon was still in sight. It was crossing the old fence line to the Orange Zone. Beyond it, only a fraction of the fields had been plowed for planting; there simply wasn’t enough manpower. Nor were there that many mouths remaining to feed; the population of Kerrville itself had shrunk to just about five thousand. Make that 4,997, thought Peter.
“Bill’s a mess,” Peter said.
Sara sighed. “And yet Kate loves him. What’s a mother to do?”
“I could try again with a job.”
“I’m afraid he’s a lost cause.” She glanced at him. “Speaking of which, what’s this about you not running for reelection?”
“Where did you hear that?”
She shrugged coyly. “Oh, just around the halls.”
“Meaning Chase.”
“Who else? The man is chomping at the bit. So, is it true?”
“I haven’t decided. Maybe ten years is enough, though.”
“People will miss you.”
“I doubt they’ll even notice.”
Peter thought she might ask him about Michael. What had he heard? Was her brother okay at least? They avoided the details, a painful reality. Michael on the trade, rumors of some crazy project, Greer in cahoots with Dunk, an armed compound on the ship channel with trucks full of lick and God knew what else leaving every day.
But she didn’t. Instead Sara asked, “What does Vicky think?”
The question pierced him with guilt. He’d been meaning to visit the woman for weeks, months even.
“I need to go see her,” he said. “How is she doing?”
The two of them were still standing shoulder to shoulder as their eyes traced the course of the wagon. It was little more than a speck now. It crested a small rise, began to sink, then was gone. Sara turned toward him.
“I wouldn’t wait,” she said.