“Rats, I meant to ask the kids about the funeral!” I said.
Mike smiled. We were driving to the ferry dock to cross over to Bainbridge Island where my mother lived in a nursing home. It was still uncomfortably close to where we had become heroes.
Mike parked in the lot and said, “Well, I’ll tell you what I heard while I was in the back. Those kids, damn.” He shuddered. “My mother wanted grandchildren, but my sister didn’t want any kids. She and her husband moved as far away as they could. I should probably adopt one. No, wait! I’ll take some of your brother’s kids over to see her and say they’re mine.”
I loved this man. “Maybe someday, they will be yours, at least, your step-nieces and nephews.” I leaned over and kissed him, then just stayed there in the middle of the seat.
We necked fo
