could do whatever the kids
could, and then he couldn't. It made a divide between them and even,
sometimes, between the past and present. Memory was suspect; did he
really do that?

"You did, Dad, you really did." Fortunately, Kate was there, confirming
the past, regaling Jackson with stories from the old days. They were
eating seafood linguini in her apartment. Jackson listened as he
twirled pasta with his fork and spoon. He was tall and thin, pleasant.
His hair was dark, pulled back into a short pony tail. He drank a lot
of wine without seeming to be much affected. His eyes got brighter.

They considered Kate's new painting which was propped up on a side
table. A young woman stood in a barn door looking out at a rainy
morning and an apple tree in full white bloom. Her hair was long and
brown; her bare feet interacted with paint splattered floor boards. She
seemed to dance without moving.

"Lot going on," Jackson said.

"Lot of life in there for an old guy," Joe said. "What do you think for
a frame?"

Jackson considered. "Simple, but with relief--to give it a little more
depth, be more inside the barn."

"Definitely simple," Kate said.

"I see what you mean," Joe said. "That will be my part, Kate--getting
it framed."

"I could do that," Jackson said.

"Hey, great. Let me know what it costs . . . "

Jackson lifted a hand. "No problem. I've got a friend with a frame
shop."

"That's quite a chess set," Joe said, pointing to a low table by a
bookcase. The pieces were hand carved and had a warm waxed shine. They
were slightly larger than usual and looked as though they were meant to
be handled.

"Jackson made those last winter," Kate said. "He just makes this
stuff--like knitting or something." Jackson looked embarrassed. "Dad,
how long are you going to be in Seattle?"

The question had been floating in the back of Joe's mind. The answer
crystallized, "Not long." They waited for him to continue. "I don't
know what I'm going to do, really, but I'm feeling jumpy. I'll let you
know. You've got my e-mail address; I'll check in every so often." He
wanted to keep his uncertainty away from Kate. It wasn't so much that
he wanted to shield her, but more that he needed to confront the future
unhindered by old patterns of relating and response.

"Stick around," Kate said. "The longer the better."

Jackson smiled neutrally. A good time to leave, Joe thought.

"Very nice to meet you, Jackson," he said. He hugged Ka