Epilogue
It was a warm June morning on the Jersey shore. Two figures walked along Interlaken Beach, arm in arm, stopping for an occasional kiss. An Irish setter ran ahead, occasionally stopping to fetch the stick they took turns throwing. They reached an outcrop of rocks and sat down, dangling their feet in the water while the dog waded through the low tide.
“Rick would have been proud of the tour, baby. The songs you wrote for him were evocative. If anyone doesn’t know that friendship is as necessary as love for the human psyche, it’s not for your lack of trying to spread the message.”
“In the end, when it counted, Rick proved a true friend,” Liam said. “His work with Joe brought Joe back from the brink. The funeral was quiet, but dignified. I’m glad he decided to be buried in New Mexi
