Kennet folded the letter up without reading it again, and slipped it into the pages of his old notebook.

He forgot about it for a week, and then another letter came.

Dear Kennet,

Never a dull moment around here. Emil slipped on the dock yesterday and broke his ankle. It’s his bad leg to begin with and a nasty fracture. He’s fine, just annoyed with himself and offended by the inconvenience. Crutches for six weeks, and Doc Tomlinson feels Emil will probably need a cane afterward. But we’ll cross that bridge, etc.

Of more concern is Minor coming home. He’s been very ill as a result of the ordeal at sea. “Exhaustion” sounds like something you can fix with rest, and you’d think the cure for “overexposure” is shelter. It’s more complicated than that. His body has been weakened and fatigued in every conceivable way, and it’s constantly fighting to keep the burned parts of his arm from being infected. Navy doctors say it will be a long recovery and he’ll need a lot of care. Fortunately, there’s an excellent burn specialist at Strong Hospital in Rochester. If he can’t manage the trip alone, Little will go with him. Or Major. We’ll sort it. But with Nalle gone, you still abroad, your father laid up and me… Well, no use being coy about it: I’m expecting a baby next year and not too proud to admit I could use another pair of able hands.

So all this to say that I’ve written Astrid and asked her to come. Hear me out before you give me a row. I know from even an inch away, it looks like meddling and matchmaking and making amends that aren’t mine to make. But it goes deeper than that. She’s still my cousin and we’ve remained close all these years. Now that she’s widowed, she’s divorced herself, as it were, from her mother. She wants a new start for herself and her son. And if I may be frank, your father’s a real pill right now and I know a guest in the house will put a civil tongue back in his head.

Kennet blinked. Read the paragraph again. Then once more.

Now that she’s widowed…a new start for herself and her son.

Zé was dead?

Astrid had a son?

He read it again. The words bounced off his brain. He understood, but he wasn’t getting it.

So for now, the plan is Astrid will be coming to stay. At the same time, I’m not ignorant or insensitive to your feelings. You’re still my darling lump of a friend, so when you get home, if the arrangements need to be changed, we’ll sort it without fuss. I promise.