Her head was up but her attention was dragging, as
though she were pulling part of herself left behind. She was nearly to
them before she focused. "Hello, Tucker."
"Hello, Margery."
"Good to see you," she said. "It's been a while."
"Yep. Since the service, I guess." Tucker straightened. He seemed
younger.
"Tucker lived up the road from us," she said to Charlie. "He made me
the most marvelous rocking horse. I think that was the nicest present I
ever got. When William--" She swallowed. "When--I'm sorry." She turned
away. "William loved it too," she said in a low voice.
There wasn't anything to say. Margery gathered herself and turned back
to them.
Tucker cleared his throat. "I was--thinking you might come over for a
bite to eat, for old times sake." Charlie expected Margery to decline,
but something in the old man's tone had caught her attention.
"Well, that's nice of you. You have time, don't you, Charlie?"
"Plenty of time." A few years earlier, she had shown him where she
lived, not far from the cemetery. "Ride or walk?"
"Ride," Tucker said. "I'll just put this shovel in the shed."
Tucker's house was a weathered collection of gray boxes that were
settling away from each other. A reddish dog got down from a couch on
the porch and came to meet them. There was white around her muzzle.
"Company, Sally. Margery Sewall and her friend, Charlie." The dog
received Tucker's hand on her head and greeted them, sniffing each in
turn.
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