Definitely the time for tact. “We always knew Godfrey would do something big.” I sat back in my chair and regarded Justin. “Even as a boy, he made plans. Talked about traveling all over the world. At first he was going to be a reporter, and by the time he was a teenager, he decided he was going to be a famous writer.”

“That’s pretty amazing,” Justin said. His eyes glowed with the beginnings of hero worship. Godfrey might have a lot to live up to with Justin.

“When Godfrey set his mind to do something, he did it.” No matter what it cost anyone else, I added silently. “He always had the drive and the ambition. I don’t think anyone who knew him doubted he’d succeed.”

“Were you friends?”

“Not really. I was pretty competitive too, and we were always vying for the same honors in school.” With a rueful laugh I admitted, “Godfrey usually won. The only thing I ever beat him in was math.”

“Yeah, I know what that’s like.” Justin shook his head. “This girl in my class was always beating me for things. I hated coming in second.”

“I did, too,” I said. Odd how the memories of those many defeats still rankled on occasion. “But I had plenty of other accomplishments to be proud of. You will, too.”

Justin nodded his thanks. I could see he was burning to ask another question but was probably afraid to.

I wanted to set his mind at ease. “He’s looking forward to meeting you. I know he wanted to talk to your mother first, but I’m sure he’ll come to see you as soon as he can.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Justin said. “But he’s this rich, famous writer, and I’m a hick from a little town in Mississippi.”

I suppressed a smile. “He’s from this same little town. He knows he has a son now, and that’s the only thing that matters. You could be purple with seven eyes, and he wouldn’t care.”

Justin laughed at that, and Diesel joined in, chirping. The sound of a ringing phone interrupted their merriment.

“Excuse me,” Justin said. He stood and pulled a cell phone from the pocket of his jeans. “It’s my mom,” he said after glancing at the display. “Be right back.”

Justin walked out of the kitchen as he answered the call. “Hi, Mom.”

That was the last Diesel and I heard. Diesel stared hopefully at the potato chips left on Justin’s plate.

“No, siree,” I said. I picked up the plate and took it over to the sink. “That’s not Diesel food.”

I walked back to the table where Diesel sat. As I scratched his head, his rumbling purr started.

“Mr. Charlie.”

Justin stood in the kitchen doorway, a stricken look on his face.

“What’s wrong?”