A nurse pokes her head in, sees him looking at the empty bed, and gives him a smile. “The solarium at the end of the hall. They’ve been having a little party. I think you’re still in time.”

Pete walks down. The solarium is skylighted and filled with plants, maybe to cheer up the patients, maybe to provide them with a little extra oxygen, maybe both. Near one wall, a party of four is playing cards. Two of them are bald, and one has an IV drip running into his arm. Hodges is seated directly under the skylight, doling out slices of cake to his posse: Holly, Jerome, and Barbara. Kermit seems to be growing a beard, it’s coming in snow-white, and Pete has a brief memory of going to the mall with his own kids to see Santa Claus.

“Pete!” Hodges says, smiling. He starts to get up and Pete waves him back into his seat. “Sit down, have some cake. Allie brought it from Batool’s Bakery. It was always her favorite place to go when she was growing up.”

“Where is she?” Pete asks, dragging a chair over and placing it next to Holly. She’s sporting a bandage on the left side of her forehead, and Barbara has a cast on her leg. Only Jerome looks hale and hearty, and Pete knows the kid barely escaped getting turned into hamburger out at that hunting camp.

“She went back to the Coast this morning. Two days off was all she could manage. She’s got three weeks’ vacation coming in March, and says she’ll be back. If I need her, that is.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Not bad,” Hodges says. His eyes flick up and to the left, but only for a second. “I’ve got three cancer docs on my case, and the first tests came back looking good.”

“That’s fantastic.” Pete takes the piece of cake Hodges is holding out. “This is too big.”

“Man up and chow down,” Hodges says. “Listen, about you and Izzy—”

“We worked it out,” Pete says. He takes a bite. “Hey, nice. There’s nothing like carrot cake with cream cheese frosting to cheer up your blood sugar.”

“So the retirement party is . . . ?”

“Back on. Officially, it was never off. I’m still counting on you to give the first toast. And remember—”

“Yeah, yeah, ex-wife and current squeeze both there, nothing too off-color. Got it, got it.”

“Just as long as we’re clear on that.” The too-big slice of cake is getting smaller. Barbara watches the rapid intake with fascination.

“Are we in trouble?” Holly asks. “Are we, Pete, are we?”

“Nope,” Pete says. “Completely in the clear. That’s mostly what I came to tell you.”

Holly sits back with a sigh of relief that blows the graying bangs off her forehead.

“Bet they’ve got Babineau carrying the can for everything,” Jerome says.

Pete points his plastic fork at Jerome. “Truth you speak, young Jedi warrior.”