Taji's Syndrome
Page 44
“I can’t, yet,” said Jeff. “We’re still getting reports of TS in third world countries and . . . you know.”
“You feel compelled to go there and tend to them. I know.” Weyman looked at his friend in sympathy. “Just because the shit has your name doesn’t mean you’re responsible for it.”
Jeff nodded. “It’s”—he sighed—“complicated. I know I’ve botched being a father. Looking back, I probably wasn’t much of a husband. I don’t want to waste . . .” His voice trailed off.
Weyman was about to say something, but Sylvia stopped him. “You can’t take on the world by yourself, Jeff. You’ve done so much already. You’ve paid your dues.”
“Have I?” He watched the raindrops spatter on the glass and slide down, spangled by the light inside the house. “And what about next time?”
“Hey,” said Weyman, getting up and going to the bar to open a bottle of Pinot Noir, “you can’t do that to yourself. You can’t spend the rest of your life waiting for something else like TS to happen.” He sniffed the cork. “Heaven.”
“I’m afraid it won’t take the rest of my life, that’s the trouble.” He looked from Weyman to Sylvia. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be dwelling on this with your wedding two days away.”
“And you the best man,” Sylvia chided him affectionately.
“Quite an event. We’re thinking of hyphenating our names, so she won’t have to give hers up. Kostermeyer-Muggridge. You got to admit it has a ring to it.” He poured the wine and gave the first glass to his bride.
“Muggridge-Kostermeyer,” she corrected him, laughing.
Jeff tried to shake off the gloom that enveloped him. “It smells wonderful,” he said as he took the wineglass.
Weyman lifted his glass to propose a toast, but stopped himself. “Jeff, it was a million to one chance, that altered DNA doing what it did to those kids. The chances of that happening again are . . . well, astronomical.”
“I know.” He tried to smile. “I don’t mean to be the spectre at the feast.”
“To tomorrow; may each one be sweeter than the one before.” Weyman chuckled as the wineglasses touched.
“Happiness to both of you,” Jeff added, with an extra salute to his friends.
Weyman clapped his free hand on Jeff’s shoulder. “We’re through the worst of it, Jeff. Remember that.”
“Are we.” Jeff looked away, past the bright rain on the lanai window to the oncoming dark.
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