She bit her lower lip. "Don't say no, Joe. Just don't say no." He hung his head. "Take care, Alison." It had been a good time. Sex had continued between them as straightforward and trusting as the rest of their relationship. But Alison needed to be in Wisconsin taking care of her mother, and she needed a husband, not his part time attention. "You aren't sorry, are you?" he asked. "Oh, no. You are my lover man. And . . . " She smiled because it was a joke between them, "In the light of eternity, what difference does it make?" She threw her arms around him, then turned quickly and left for her departure gate. He went directly to the Moana. "I need a drink, Gilbert." "You in the right place." For the first time since he'd landed in Hawaii, Joe was lonely. Alison had given him something, and he missed it already. What was it? Her directness. It was how to be, a gift. He watched the young and the not so young prowl along the beach, bodies glistening with tanning oil. None were for him. Morgan was coming through for a night, he remembered. And Mo was due back soon. He could talk to them, anyway. He trudged home anesthetized, wished Batman a good sleep, and lowered himself onto his mattress. The next day his poem was returned in the mail, rejected without comment. The day after that, he reached Mo on the phone. "Hi, there." "Oh. Hello, Joe." "Welcome back. How was your trip?" "Exhausting. Got some good shots of the boundary waters area, though. And my parents' anniversary--what a scene." "Alcohol consumed?" "Lord! It was touching, really, my folks and their old friends toasting each other and their fallen comrades." "Ah," Joe said. "What's new with you?" she asked. "Oh, you know--rejection and solitude." Alison's face flashed before him; he apologized silently. "Why don't I believe you?" Mo asked. "It's chromosomal; you can't help it. Anyway, I was rejected. By Manoa. They didn't like my poem. They didn't even say they didn't like it, just sent it back." "Builds character," Mo said. "Listen, Mo, now that you feel sorry for me, how about dinner next week? An old friend of mine is coming with his new lady; I think it would be a good time." "Hmmm . . . what day? I'm free Thursday and Friday." "Good, they're coming Thursday." "Fine," Mo said. "Give me a call. If I'm out, leave a message telling me where to meet you." "Will do." The following Thursday, the lei stands at the airport were busy. Joe made it to the arrival gate just in time. There was Morgan with a new haircut, looking somewhat larger than life in a short sleeved shirt, wearing chinos rather than jeans, striding along with a small blonde woman. She saw Joe approach and flashed a thousand watt smile. "Aloha," Joe said, hanging leis around their necks. "Aloha," Morgan said. "Edie, this is Joe." "Edie Rowantree," she said through the dazzle, extending her hand. "Joe Burke. How was the flight?"