“If not the divine kind, the humans who’ve reached out, like you guys.”
“Well, Mae set a lot of it into motion, so if anyone’s an angel, it’s her.”
“Tell her thanks, Goose.”
“We will, Micha.”
“I’m gonna go,” he said. “But, um, I’ll do my best to stay in touch…write…call. My brother, he, uh, wrote a lot of letters while deployed. Old-fashioned, ya know.”
“Sure.” Goose smiled.
“I do that, too. It’s easier.”
“Write us anytime, old fashioned or online. However you want to keep in touch, we’re good, as long as you do.”
Micha promised again to try.
Even with the first cold snap of autumnal air now in place, the six of us plus two pets sat outside at the picnic table well after sunset, waiting to see a pair of birds—though none of us ever said as much. Did Jefferson feel ready to return to Heaven? Had Daniel been waiting for the other half of the mission to be complete before he left? Not a single cardinal appeared. Not a trill to be heard.