Jeremiah had moved out very shortly, into Lilah and Catie Parr’s guest house; he’d found a partner, that same steady fisherman’s son Peter Jones, though they seemed in no hurry for anything more than casual comfortableness. Jer tried to come over and visit, from time to time; Richard tried to say yes to the visiting, but more often than not they did not speak.
Richard had never understood people who saw conversation as easy, weightless, without effort; each word had forever been a boulder, a burden, a frightening uncertainty. The right choice? The wrong one? Too little? Too much? The wrong timing? He stumbled over thoughts and hid behind solitude; even when he’d been a boy that’d been the case.