"I hope so," Peter said, then, "I'm going to check on Isle." He excused himself.
"She's asleep," Grace whispered, glancing up from her book. Isle
slept peacefully beside her on the sofa.
"Any calls?" Peter said. The house and lab phones were on separate lines, so that the men were not distracted while working.
Grace gave a sympathetic shake of her head.
Peter had not heard from Kate since Isle's birth. He had called her the night she'd departed, and tried to persuade her to return. She had declined, and that was the last time they had spoken.
He now had Isle, and Byron and Grace, a family of sorts, and ISLE. The project had crystallized into a wondrous thing. This afternoon's meeting could signal the beginning of something great, something bigger than anything he had ever done at Wallaby. Yet, if he could, Peter would trade all of it to have Kate back. If only he could undo his mistake…
As if reading his mind, the older woman laid a hand on his wrist.
"Petey, you can call her, you know."
He shrugged. "I told her I would leave it up to her. That she's eternally welcome, and we want her back. But I think I've lost her for good, Grace."
"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure. You know, after Byron had his heart attack, I almost left him."
"Really? How come?"