Just then a handsome smiling woman appeared at the table, dressed in a light, summery outfit. In one hand she held her wide-brimmed hat, in the other a bag of vegetables and groceries. Byron's face brightened at her arrival.
"Is this man filling your ear with World War II stories?" She handed the bag to Byron.
"I haven't even gotten to those yet," Byron said as he stood.
"Another day."
He made introductions. "Gracie, this boy is the one who invented all those pesky little computers littering everyone's desks out there," Byron said. "He's also been the best conversation I've had here in awhile. Mr. Jones, it's been nice talking to you."
"Likewise," said Peter. The two men shook hands.
"Why don't you come by our house for dinner. Saturday night."
Byron said, tapping his shirt pocket for his pen.
"Thank you, that's very kind. But I've been sticking pretty much to myself, and I'm not much company - "
"Nonsense! Eight o'clock," Byron said, scribbling his address on a paper napkin.
"All right then, I'll be there. But I have a friend coming. Would it be okay if I brought her?"
"Can she dance?"