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Just before we got to the gate at the little fence surrounding Pete’s house, I threw down my cigarette and took Sarah’s arm.
    The house was new and had been planted with a tough climbing vine that had spread over the fence. A little wooden lumberjack was nailed to the banister that ran around the porch. When the wind blew, the little man began sawing his log. He was not sawing at this moment, but I could feel the dampness in the air and I knew the wind would come soon. Potted plantswere on the porch and flower beds on either side of the sidewalk, but whether they had been planted by Betty or the first wife, there was no way of telling. Some children’s toys and a tricycle were on the porch. The porch light was burning, and just as we started up the steps Pete opened the door and greeted us.
    “Come in, come in,” he said, holding the screen door with one hand. He took Sarah’s hands in his hands and then he shook hands with me. He was a tall thin man, sixty years old or so, with a full head of neatly combed gray hair. His shoulders gave the impression of bulk, but he was not heavy. He was wearing a gray Pendleton shirt, dark slacks, and white shoes. Betty came to the door as well, nodding and smiling. She took our coats while Pete asked us what we’d like to drink.
    “What can I get you?” he said. “Name it. If I don’t have it we’ll send over to the restaurant for it.” Pete was a recovering alcoholic but kept wine and liquor around the house for guests. He’d once told me that when he’d bought his first restaurant and was cooking sixteen hours a day he drank two fifths of whiskey during those sixteen hours and was hard on his help. Now he’d quit drinking, had been hospitalized for it, we’d heard, and hadn’t had a drink in six years, but like many alcoholics, he still kept it around the house.
    Sarah said she’d have a glass of white wine. I looked at her. I asked for a Coke. Pete winked at me and said, “You want a little something in the Coke? Something to help take the dampness out of your bones?”
    “No thanks, Pete, but maybe you could toss a piece of lime in it, thanks,” I said.
    “Good fellow,” he said. “For me it’s the only way to fly anymore.”
    I saw Betty turn a dial on the microwave oven and push a button. Pete said, “Betty, will you have some wine with Sarah, or what would you like, honey?”
    “I’ll have a little wine, Pete,” Betty said.
    “Phil, here’s your Coke,” Pete said. “Sarah,” he said, and gaveher a glass of wine. “Betty. Now, there’s lots more of everything. Let’s go in where it’s comfortable.”
    We passed through the dining room. The table was already set with four place settings, fine china, and crystal wineglasses. We went through to the living room and Sarah and I sat together on one of the sofas. Pete and Betty sat across the room on another sofa. There were bowls of cocktail nuts within reach on a coffee table, cauliflower heads, celery sticks, and a bowl of vegetable dip beside the peanuts.
    “We’re so glad you could come,” Betty said. “We’ve been looking forward to this all week.”
    “We’re going to miss you,” Pete said, “and that’s a fact. I hate to see you go, but I know that’s life, people have to do what they have to do. I don’t know how to say this, but it’s been an honor having you over there in the house, you both being teachers and all. I have a great respect for education, though I don’t have much myself. It’s like a big family here, you know that, and we’ve come to look on you as part of that family. Here, here’s to your health. To you,” he said, “and to the future.”
    We raised our glasses and then we drank.
    “We’re so glad you feel that way,” Sarah said. “This is very important to us, this dinner; we’ve been looking forward to it more than I can tell you. It means a great deal to us.”
    Pete said, “We’re going to miss you, that’s all.” He shook his