Our first stop of any duration was Washington, DC. None of the three of us had been to a city of such size, and certainly not to one as important as our nation’s capital. As the train wended its way through the countryside of northern Virginia, our anticipation of what we might encounter grew rapidly.

“Now who’s this congressional fella we gonna be staying with when we get there?” asked Jared, not for the first time.

“He’s a United States Senator from South Carolina,” said Horatio. “His name is Thomas James Robertson. Harry’s daddy is an old friend of his from back when they was kids.”

“So … was he up there doing his senator stuff with the Yankees during the war?”

Sometimes I think Jared asked questions that Horatio would find exasperating just to keep his friend off balance. I found the tactic amusing – up to a point.

“No, Jared, during the war they weren’t no representatives in the House or the Senate from South Carolina or any o’ the other states that were part of the Confederacy.”

“House? What kinda house you talking about?”

“Gentlemen,” I interrupted, “perhaps we might focus on the manners and comportment we’ll display when we arrive at Senator Robertson’s home. I know none of us wants to embarrass Daddy. And I know we especially don’t want to do anything that might provoke Mamma’s disapproval.”

“That’d be very bad,” said Horatio.

“It would,” said Jared. “I’d sooner stay up North and become a certified Yankee.”

It was warm and humid the morning we crossed the Potomac River by what is called Long Bridge. There were thick pockets of mist hanging over the slow moving water. Each of us was taken with what we  saw, but Jared seemed particularly drawn by the view.

“Once we get across this little stream I guess we officially in the land of those who whooped our ass in the war? That be about right?” he said.

“Yes and no,” I said. “It’s all very complicated and still sorting itself out. And that is likely to go on for a while.”

“More than a while, you ask me,” said Horatio.

“At any rate, we gonna have to get off this train shortly. Harry, what do we do after that?”

My father had made arrangements for someone in Senator Robertson’s employ to collect us at the train station and take us to his home located in the northern section of the District. 

As we we shoved our bags off the car, we heard a strong, welcoming voice before we saw a tall colored man in a suit walking briskly towards us.

“Let me help you gentlemen with all that,” he boomed. “My name is Jameson. The Senator has asked me to take the three of you to his home in Adams Morgan. Please allow me to bid you welcome to Washington, D.C.”

“And a good morning to you, sir,” said Jared as he removed his hat and extended his hand to Jameson. Though Jameson masked it well, I could see he was taken aback by Jared’s presence and manners. I am certain he was unaccustomed to such deference from a white male, especially one with a heavy southern accent.

“I believe you know about Harry,” said Jared who had his arm around Horatio’s shoulder. 

“However, I’d also like to introduce you to our good friend, Horatio. You mighta read about him in the newspapers. Disarmed a thoroughly dangerous train robber a few days back. He’s small in stature, but the boy’s got the heart and courage of a fearsome lion, he does.”

It was rare to see an embarrassed look on Horatio’s face, but there it was. Jameson declared, “Well, it makes me proud indeed to be in the presence of such distinguished visitors. But let’s get your baggage into the wagon so Ginger can take us up to the Senator’s home. The old girl has informed me she does not look forward to the day getting any hotter.”

Jameson invited Jared and me to sit in the back of the wagon with the baggage and Horatio to sit up front with him. He didn’t make a big fuss about it. I believe he did it without any conscious thought. But it bothered me nonetheless because I knew that if Horatio had been white, he would have been riding in the back with his two friends. Jared must have seen my look because he threw me a stern but understanding stare. 

“Let it pass, Harry. I don’t like it no more than you. But we gotta be choosy ‘bout where to take a stand and where to stand down.” 

Jameson headed the wagon east so the three of us could get a view of the White House before heading north on 16^th Street.

“So that’s where the head boss man lives?” said Horatio.

“Yes it is,” said Jameson. “Right now it’s President Grant. But it wasn’t so long ago that it was Mr. Lincoln’s home. And it might still be had he not been felled by an assassin at Ford’s Theater on that tragic April night.”

As Ginger pulled the wagon northward, I sensed a lessening of the heat and humidity that had blanketed us when we got off the train. Part of that change had to do with an increase in elevation; I believe more of it had to do with distancing ourselves from the swamp-like area of the District built 80 years ago. There were stories that President Lincoln had a summer home near where we were headed to escape the discomfort of the White House in July and August. I could see why he had done that.

Senator Robertson’s home was a modest brownstone set off several hundred yards west of 16^th Street at the top of a hill. There was also a stable and livery, as well as a wooden structure I assumed was for servants. 

When we got to the main entrance of the house, a handsome woman about my mother’s age marched out the door. 

“Welcome, welcome, boys,” she cried as she beckoned the three of us towards her and proceeded to smother us (Horatio included) with hugs and kisses. All this before we could even remove our hats and bow and engage in other courtesies expected of young men. 

Perhaps she was more demure and serious at evening parties with her husband and surrounded by dignitaries. Perhaps. But with us she was behaving like a favorite aunt, prone to fuss over and spoil her nephews. It was impossible for us not to warm to her.

After we had been released from her embrace, I heard Jared say, “Ma’am, it is an honor and a pleasure to be here. Thank you so very much for inviting us into your home.”

“Well, aren’t you the charming young man. You must be Jared. I’ve heard an awful lot about you.” 

Horatio and I could not hold back our giggles. Mrs. Robertson gave the two of us a wink and said, “We’ll find a way to keep him in line, now won’t we boys?”

Horatio then guffawed, quickly caught himself, and said, “Please forgive me, ma’am. I meant no disrespect.”

With a dismissive wave of her hand, she said, “Oh, I know that, Horatio. Besides, I believe a sense of humor is something all of us very much need. I can’t imagine surviving the last two decades without mine.”

As all this was taking place, Jameson stood demurely off to the side. It was clear he was appreciating the scene. Something in his eyes and smile told me this was not the first time he had witnessed such a greeting from the Senator’s wife. When there was a brief pause in her barrage of words, he asked, “Ma’am, where would you like me to put the boys’ traveling bags?”

“Yes, yes, of course. Why put them all in the guest room on the second floor. I believe there is sufficient room and bedding for the three of them in there.” The look of shock on Jameson’s face was pronounced, but he said nothing other than, “Yes, ma’am,” as he turned and walked towards the wagon.

I was at least as surprised as Jameson when I heard her instructions. Where I grew up there was a hard and-fast rule that colored people did not make social visits to the homes of whites. And the idea that they might share sleeping quarters with us? Unimaginable. 

Jared detested such rules. To him, they were stupid and grossly unjust. My attitude on such matters was similar. But my opinions on most things were less certain than Jared’s. For whatever confluence of reasons and circumstances, he seemed to have leaped to a place of certainty about things characteristic of a thirty-five year old man, not the boy of sixteen that he was.

That evening when all of us were seated in the dining room, I was to learn that Mrs. Robertson had not finished surprising us. By that time we had been introduced to, and welcomed by, the Senator. I had met him some ten or twelve years earlier but had been too young to get more than a superficial sense of the man. It was obvious he was a warm and kind fellow who lacked his wife’s effusive personality. But his appreciation for her kept escaping from his natural reserve with smiles and chuckles as she prattled away. 

“I do go on, now, don’t I,” she said as she sipped some soup. “Let me see if I can’t be quiet for a moment or two and give someone else a chance to speak.”

With a mischievous grin, the Senator asked, “Mother, is there a particular topic you’d like any of us to address?”

“As a matter of fact, Senator, there is. I believe you recall the recently ratified Fifteenth Amendment to the Constitution. Are you boys familiar with that?”

Jared hesitated not an instant in replying, “Ma’am, I am most certain that Horatio could repeat it to you word for word.”

“My, my. Horatio, has Jared overestimated your powers of recall?”

“Ma’am, Jared overestimates many things, but I believe the essential language of the amendment reads: ‘The right of citizens of the United States to vote shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or by any State on account of race, color, or previous condition of servitude.’”

“Senator,” she said, “Does that sound right to you?”

“Yes, Mother. It sounds exactly right.”

“It does to me, as well. Thank you, Horatio,” she said as she paused and scanned each of our faces before continuing. 

“Now, the question I would like to put to each of you gentlemen, but most particularly to the Senator is this: Why does that amendment not include the word ‘gender’ in it? If the nation has decided to give voting rights to males of any color, former slaves or not, why has it not seen fit to give that same right to females?”

At the age of 16 I had many times felt a sense of boredom in the presence of adults who blather on about matters of no interest whatsoever to me. This was not one of those times. I might have been confused and embarrassed, but I most certainly was not bored. Nor were either of my two friends.

For the first time, I saw the Senator actually laugh. “Well, boys, I think that’s an excellent question. Now I could hold forth with some high-falootin’ answer that I’m sure my lovely spouse would find entirely unacceptable. In fact, many times I have offered such a response at this very table, now haven’t I Mother?”

“Yes, Senator. You have.”

“Well then, boys, I don’t think I should answer the question, do you?” Each of us was trying not to smile and giggle. Jared was the first of us to speak.

“Sir, if Mrs. Robertson doesn’t mind, I would like to take a crack at her question.”

“Please do, Jared,” she said.

“Ma’am, I hope you don’t think I’m being churlish or disrespectful or nothin’, but I think we all might be better off if women had the vote and us men folk did not.”

With a firm nod she said, “You have my full attention, Jared. Please do continue.”

“Well, this is how I see it. When it comes to the everyday things that happen in the world, I think us men stir up a lot of trouble. Especially when it comes to disagreements. We’re too quick to use our fists or guns or both to settle our differences, when just talking things out would be the better way to go. If you want the truth, I would be as good an example as any of that inclination. And you can see by the way they’re bobbing their heads that Harry and Horatio agree with that.”

“It is quite clear that they do,” she said in a serious tone but with mirth in her eyes.

“Again, ma’am, I don’t mean no offense, but I think women are sort of in charge of things anyway. They’re all the time telling us men what to do and mostly, just to stay out of trouble, we end up doing it. I know that when I don’t do that, I’m looking at a whole lot more trouble than I would be if I just done what they say.”

She nodded thoughtfully for a few seconds and then turned to Horatio and me. “Boys, how do the two of you feel about what Jared has said?” I gave Horatio a “You go first” look.

“Well, ma’am, I do agree with Jared that women probably ought to be in charge of running things more than men, ‘cause I think they would be, like he says, more likely to keep us all from shooting each other and blowing each other up. We probably wouldn’ta had this big, old awful war if it was women that was making all the big decisions.”

He paused to look nervously around at everyone’s face. Some of the nervousness seemed to melt as he saw he had our full and respectful attention.

“But I know Jared pretty good and I don’t believe, ma’am, that he believes men should not have the vote. ‘Cause he ain’t like that. He believes in his heart that everybody should get treated the same. He don’t care you black or white, male or female, young or old, rich or poor, or whatever you are. He thinks everybody’s entitled to fair treatment.”

At this point Horatio seemed to choke up some, and he stopped for a moment to let his throat clear. As a look of pride crawled over his face, he said, “Ma’am, old Jared there is not so much with the book learning and all, but he seems to understand democracy and what Mr. Jefferson and them had in mind when they come up with the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution. If he didn’t, I can’t see why he’d have both Harry and me as friends. Wouldn’t make no sense.”

When Mrs. Robertson turned to me, I said, “Ma’am, I don’t see how I can add much to what’s already been said.”

As she slowly rose and nodded her head, she said, “Well then, gentlemen, why don’t we repair to the parlor and have us some cake and coffee?” 

When we boys finally retired for the night, each was asleep as soon as his head touched the pillow. Early the next morning, we heard a loud knocking at the guest room door and Jameson’s booming voice: “Gentlemen, breakfast will be waiting for you downstairs in twenty minutes. My wife Harriet is the cook. From long experience I know she appreciates punctuality and frowns on tardiness.”

In a groggy state, we managed to dress and wash our faces and trundle downstairs within the allotted time. As we stepped into the dining room, we were greeted by the aroma of bacon and eggs and freshly baked bread, and a large colored woman with as welcoming a smile as I had ever seen.

“Boys,” she said, “sit yourselves down and dig into all that food you see piled in front of you. The Senator will be down by and by, but he asked that you not wait on him, being as you are likely hungrier than a pack of wolves.”

With a chorus of “Yes, ma’ams” and “Thank you, ma’ams” we did as instructed. We gobbled down the scrumptious food and were delighted when Harriet bustled around the table to pile more onto our empty plates. 

“So boys,” she said, “What y’all got planned for today’s activities?”

Before any of us could open his mouth stuffed with eggs or grits, the Senator strode into the dining room and announced, “Why, Harriet, these boys will be going to the circus with me today.”

“Circus, Senator? I don’t believe I was aware the circus was in town. And I don’t miss much … must be getting’ older.”

“Quite to the contrary, Harriet, your mental powers are as sharp as ever. The circus I’m talking about is always in town – the goings on in the Capitol building.”

From the moment I first saw her, I knew this woman liked to laugh. But the sound coming from her mouth now did not qualify as laughter. Whooping would be a more apt term.

“Harriet, I’m glad you find me amusing, but let’s not have you spill any of that tasty breakfast you’ve prepared. I have a hunger rivaling that of the boys.”

“Yessir, yessir,” she said as she headed to the kitchen with surprising nimbleness for such a large person.   

After breakfast Jameson got all three of us plus the Senator loaded into the wagon he had used to retrieve us at the train station. Arriving at the Capitol building and spending the day there was fascinating. None of us had ever seen or been in a structure so large and cavernous. And we most certainly had never been in a place with as much scurrying to and fro.

Young boys called pages running to deliver messages and documents. Small crowds of constituents or favor-seekers waiting outside offices to catch a representative or senator and convince him of a position on some pending bill he was unlikely to support. Boisterous laughter and loud arguments between gentlemen puffed up with their own importance.

Perhaps the most interesting part of the day was the afternoon session we attended in the Senate Chamber. Jared and I sat up in the gallery as visitors. The Senator had decided it would have been more trouble than it was worth to try to get Horatio formally admitted. But he said, “Horatio, here’s what we’ll do if you are willing to go along with the ruse. Take off that suit jacket and take this broom and go in there with your friends and pretend like you are a custodian sweeping up.”

“I think that is a brilliant solution, Senator,” said Horatio.

“Sir, I don’t much like it, but I ‘spose it is a way to get him in there without causing no big ruckus,” said Jared. “Rather it be me in there doin’ the sweepin’.”

“It’ll be fine, hoss. It’ll be fine,” said Horatio as he slapped our big friend on the back. It was not fine, but it would have to do.

Before entering the gallery, I expected to see a chamber packed with gentlemen on either side of the aisle that separated Democrats from Republicans. 

That is not at all what I saw. What I saw was one gentleman behind a podium at the front of the chamber droning on about some topic. Seated here and there throughout the huge room were a scattering of senators. Two or three were snoring loudly. Across the aisle two shouted profanities at each other that matched what Jared was capable of when vexed. One was drunk and wandering around in search of his seat, which he did not find while we were there. One was reading a book and making notes from it.  And none was paying attention to the senator at the podium.

Later on Senator Robertson sat across from the three of us behind the desk in his office. “Gentlemen,” he said, “I believe you just saw a good swatch of what passes for the democratic process in this great country of ours.”

“Yessir. Must account for why everything in America runs just smooth as a top,” said a straight-faced Jared.

“Yes, indeedy,” said the Senator. “Yes, indeedy.” Rising abruptly, he said, “Let’s find Jameson and get the hell out of this place. I believe that’s enough circus for one day.”

That evening all of us were once again seated at the dining room table for supper. Our number was the same as the previous evening. That it is, it was the same until her scent preceded her and a beautiful young woman announced herself.

“Mother and father, please give forgive my tardiness. Our train from Baltimore was held up for reasons never properly explained to any of us bedraggled passengers.”

The Senator and Horatio and I rose from our seats simultaneously. Jared tried to do the same, but he toppled over the back of his chair with a look of surprise and awe on his face.

“You always make a striking impression on young men, Alison,” said the Senator. “But it appears you have outdone yourself with young Jared here. Let us all pray you have not caused him permanent injury.”

“Oh, Daddy. That is not the least bit amusing,” the young woman said as she strode around the table, extended a lithe hand to Jared and helped me pull him up from the floor.

“Jared,” she said as she brushed some invisible dust from his jacket, “I’m sure you will be fine and will accept the apology my father is about to offer you.”

The Senator tried not to smile as he said, “Sorry, son. My daughter is absolutely right. I should not have made those remarks at your expense.”

“Thank you, sir. No need for apologizing. Besides,” said Jared as he turned his attention to the young lady, “Miss Alison most assuredly did make a striking impression on me. Just hope my clumsiness didn’t cause no damage to that chair.”

“The chair will be fine,” said Alison. “Now, someone needs to tell me about our visitors here.”

Since I was the reason for our staying there and ultimately causing all the commotion, I took it upon myself to provide a brief summary of who the three of us were and why we were on the way up to New Hampshire. 

While I talked, Alison gave me her full attention in only the way  gracious women (especially those from the South) seem able to do. As I went on, she was making an impression on me. She reminded me some of Mary Kathleen. However, there was something different about her that had nothing to do with physical appearance. 

Both young women were gorgeous, but Alison had a mysterious, seasoned quality that Mary Kathleen did not possess. She was a bit older than Mary Kathleen, but that was not enough to account for the difference. There was something else. Something that spoke of experience with men that I knew Mary Kathleen would never achieve. (Nor would I have wanted want her to.)

Of course, the person Alison was undeniably making the most impression on was Jared. I knew how much he enjoyed the company of females and how charming he could be in their presence. But prior to this moment he had seemed to always have the upper hand with women, to be in control of the situation. 

Well, he was not in control now. It was as if Alison had cast a spell on him. Sitting there with his mouth agape and his eyes wide open, he stared at her as if she were an otherworldly presence, an Aphrodite sent to enchant us for a few moments before whisking herself away, never to return.

As she talked on about her summer studies in Baltimore at Goucher College and her enjoyment of The Merchant of Venice, I glanced over at Horatio. He looked sideways at Jared for just a second and then looked at me with a subtle rolling of his eyes. We were in agreement; the boy had fallen hopelessly in love.

An hour or so later the three of us were in the guestroom lounging on our beds. Save some pale moonlight from a large window, the room was dark.

“So boss,” said Horatio, “’Pears you were more than a little taken by the Senator’s daughter.”

“Of course I was, Horatio,” said Jared. “She’s a lovely and charming young woman.”

“Lovely and charming, my ass. You ain’t shining me or Harry on in the least. You smitten. Besides, ain’t no shame in falling for a woman like Miss Alison. That said, please don’t go doin’ something stupid like you know how.”

“Got know idea what you talking bout, short round.” 

“Let’s hope that’s true, cracker.”

At this point, I interceded. “Race differences aside, you both talking like back water hillbillies. Do me the the favor of shutting the hell up so I can get a little sleep.”

In the middle of a vivid dream, I felt my arm being shaken vigorously and heard Horatio’s muffled voice, “Wake up, Harry. Jared’s gone missing.”

“What are you talking about?” I said as I looked over at Jared’s empty bed. “He musta gone outside to do his business. Why you waking me up for something like that?”

“That ain’t it. I been awake a good half hour. Don’t take nobody that long to do their business. We need to go find him.”

“Damn him. What, we gotta tie a rope ‘round his neck like he was a mule prone to wandering off?”

“Mule’s got more sense than Jared. Stop yakking and get dressed.”

Just after we’d hastily pulled some clothes on and were stumbling for the door, Jared strolled into the room with a big smile. “Damn boys. Little early for breakfast ain’t it. Besides, wouldn’t be gentlemanly to go into the dining room half-dressed, now would it?”

It was a good try, but Alison’s strong scent gave him away. I was so flustered that words failed me. Horatio was at no such disadvantage: “When the lord invented the word ‘stupid’ he musta had you in mind, Jared.”

“Hold on a minute, Horatio,” Jared said. “This was not my idea. She pulled me aside right after supper and made the proposition. What am I ‘sposed to do? Say no?”

“Well, shit, Harry. Jared makes a good point. Doncha think? He just didn’t have no selection in the matter. We can’t blame him for that. Wouldn’t be right.”

“Take it easy, Horatio,” I whispered. “You gonna wake up the whole house.”

“What I’m gonna do is give this thick headed fool a proper ass-whipping,” he said as he hurled his small body at Jared and began pummeling his chest with a closed fist and his hook.

I wanted to share Horatio’s anger at Jared. I really did. But I couldn’t. The humor of it all got the better of me and I began to cackle. And so did Jared as he tried to hold Horatio at arm’s length.

Exhausted, Horatio finally ceased his punching and said, “Ain’t a goddam thing funny about it. Not a goddam thing.”

“Yeah, there is,” said Jared. “But you right. I didn’t show the best judgment in doing what I done.”

“That’s cause you and good judgment never got introduced,” Horatio said disgustedly.

“Come on, little man. Can’t you cut me some slack here?”

“Only slack I’m gonna cut you is in the rope I use to string your sorry ass up.”

By then the excitement had run its course and all three of us were able to get a smidgeon of sleep before Jameson’s knock.

It wasn’t long before we were back in Jameson’s wagon and headed for the train that would take us to New York City. We had said our proper thanks to Mrs. Robertson and the Senator and, of course, to Harriet. Jared had found a way to get Alison off to the side to say something soft and gentle to her, and she to him.

As Ginger drew the wagon southward on 16^th Street, Jameson said, “I trust you gentlemen enjoyed your stay with us. It seemed as if you did. Perhaps that was especially the case for you, Mr. Jared. Or am I mistaken?”

“You not in the least bit mistaken about that, sir,” said Horatio. “Not in the least.”

“Jameson, you’ll have to excuse Horatio’s peevish tone. He is still vexed at me. Harry and I are hoping he’ll soon get beyond his annoyance and realize that all of us, him included, make mistakes from time to time.”

As Horatio shook his head and looked down at the street rolling underneath the wagon, Jameson nodded and looked pensive. After a moment he said, “Hmm … I don’t believe any of us gets through life without making a heap of mistakes along the way. I suppose the trick is, do we learn from those mistakes, or do we keep on making the same ones over and over again until something real bad happens? Something we can’t fix.”

That seemed to bring Horatio out of his mood. “You thinking of something in particular, sir?” 

“I am.” All you could hear was the creaking of the wagon and an occasional snort from Ginger as we waited him out. 

“Ah … this isn’t something I’m all that proud of boys. So I would appreciate y’all keeping what I am about to say among the three of you.”

Horatio quickly said, “You don’t got no worries on that, boss. Right, Jared?”

“Sir, I might be a fool, but I’m a fool who can keep his mouth shut.” 

I followed with, “Jameson, whatever you have to say stays with us.”

“Fair enough. Well, here it is. You have all had the pleasure of getting to know my wife Harriet during your short stay with us.”

“We have,” I said. “She has been most hospitable to the three of us. And I don’t suppose it is any surprise to you that we found her cooking skills to be formidable.”

Chuckling, he said, “Yes, yes. She is a remarkable woman, and I feel blessed to have her as my wife and the mother of our children. 

“Well,” he continued, “Harriet and I have known each other for a long time, even though we did not legally marry ‘til after freedom broke. Somewhere ‘long about 1866.”

“I don’t know, boss,” said Jared. “Be good to write the exact date down and commit it to memory. You don’t, could cause you some troubles down the line.” 

“I believe I’ll do that. Anyway, like I said … Harriet and I have known each other a goodly number of years. And right from the very first, I been in love with that woman. She got her hooks into me real good. Couldn’t let go if I wanted to. And didn’t never want to.”

A minute passed before he picked it up again. “Truth is, I like women. Always have. I remember even as a little boy watching ‘em in the street walking by and being flat out fascinated by the way they dressed, the way they carried themselves … know what I mean?”

We all grunted our agreement.

“Well, shortly after I met Harriet and started courtin’ her, I met up with this little gal … turns out she was a cousin of Harriet’s …”

“Oh, shit,” said Jared.

“Exactly right – ‘Oh, shit!’ Just plain stupid, I was. ‘Cause this little gal, Jasmine, was special, but she wan’t never gonna take the place of Harriet. I was just getting me some recreation off on the side that I had no business getting.

“Anyway, wasn’t too long ‘fore Harriet got wind of what was going on, and she was fit to be tied. Told me I better let Jasmine go and never even look at her again, else she wouldn’t never have nothing to do with me.” 

Then he paused again; just sat there holding the reins and shaking his head as Ginger pulled us along.

“You could think that’d make me stop, get my attention, put the fear of god in me … all like that?” 

“Well … I didn’t stop. And Harriet knew it right away and told me it was over between us. She didn’t do it with no yelling and screaming and carrying on like the first time. She done it in a low voice, but I could see the fury and the ice in her eyes. I wasn’t getting no more chances.”

Jameson paused so long this time that Horatio put his arm on the big man’s shoulder and said in just louder than a whisper: “But she did take you back … somehow she come up with a way to forgive you …”

“She did. But didn’t happen in no hurry. I waited a good six months ‘fore I tried talking to her. Wouldn’t even look at me. Walked by me like I was a ghost. Tore me up.

“Tried the same thing a year later. This time she give me a look but didn’t say nothing. Sounds stupid, but I saw that as progress.” 

For the first time since he had begun the story, we saw a smile. We allowed ourselves a little chuckling. Just a little.

“Six more months go by. I took another run at it. This time we had a conversation. Not a long one, but least we was talking. After that, we talked ‘bout once a week for another six months. Then … finally she took me back.”

“You one patient and determined man, sir,” said Jared.

“Maybe so. Maybe so. But I was a whole lot more stupid. Otherwise I woudn’ta needed all that being patient and determined. Coulda saved all that for something else, couldn’t I?”

“Probably true,” said Horatio. “Maybe the upside is you lost some stupidity long the way.”

“I did. Ain’t got no plans to find it again, either.”