“I don't think Harry cares about being forgiven," Poppy said glumly."Of course he does. Men love to be forgiven. It makes us feel better about our inability to learn from our mistakes.”

“But Harry . . . even if we had met and married three years ago, you’d still say it wasn’t enough time.”“You’re right. I can’t think of a single day of my life that wouldn’t have been improved with you in it.”“Darling,” she whispered, her fingertips coming up to stroke his jaw, “that’s lovely. Even more romantic than comparing me to watch parts.”Harry nipped at her finger. “Are you mocking me?”“Not at all,” Poppy said, smiling. “I know how you feel about gears and mechanisms.”

“If you don't want to have sex, I don't want to talk about our feelings."He scrubbed his hand through his hair, looking confused. "Well, that's for damn sure the first time a woman's ever said that to me.”

“Would you say that you're a good man, Harry?"He had to think about that. "No," he finally said. "In the fairy tale you mentioned last night, I would probably be the villain. But it's possible the villain would probably treat you far better than the prince would have.”

“I don't really like this song," Emma had said."You told me it was your favourite.""It's beautiful. But it always makes me sad.""Why, love?" he'd asked gently. "It's about finding each other again. About someone coming home."Emma had lifted her head from his shoulder and looked at him earnestly. "It's about losing someone, and having to wait until you're together in heaven.""There's nothing in the lyrics about heaven," he'd said."But that's what it means. I can't bear the idea of being separated from you, for a lifetime or a year or even a day. So you mustn't go to heaven without me.""Of course not," he had whispered. "It wouldn't be heaven without you.”

“I don’t want to be a widow, I don’t want Michael Bayning, and I don’t want you to joke about such things, you tactless clodpole!”As all three of them stared at her openmouthed, Poppy leapt up and stalked away, her hands drawn into fists.Bewildered by the immediate force of her fury—it was like being stung by a butterfly—Harry stared after her dumbly. After a moment, he asked the first coherent thought that came to him. “Did she just say she doesn’t want Bayning?”“Yes,” Win said, a smile hovering on her lips. “That’s what she said. Go after her, Harry.”Every cell in Harry’s body longed to comply. Except that he had the feeling of standing on the edge of a cliff, with one ill-chosen word likely to send him over. He gave Poppy’s sister a desperate glance. “What should I say?”“Be honest with her about your feelings,” Win suggested.A frown settled on Harry’s face as he considered that. “What’s my second option?”

“No," I said automatically, "don't do anything about Dad. You can't fix my relationship with him.""I can block or run interference.""Thanks, Jack, but I don't need blocking, and I really don't need any more interference."He looked annoyed. "Well, why did you waste all that time complaining to me if you didn't want me to do something about it?""I don't want you to fix my problems. I just wanted you to listen.""Hang it all, Haven, talk to a girlfriend if all you want is a pair of ears. Guys hate it when you give us a problem and then don't let us do something about it. It makes us feel bad. And then the only way to make ourselves feel better is to rip a phone book in two or blow something up. So let's get this straight — I'm not a good listener. I'm a guy.""Yes you are." I stood and smiled. "Want to buy me a drink at an after work bar?""Now you're talking," my brother said, and we left the office.”