Prologue
“Tess, I love you,” Abraham’s voice, usually a rich baritone, came through the phone as dry and raspy. “I would be honored if you would accept my hand in marriage.”
Tess stared straight ahead; her eyes held wide.
In the silence that fell between them, Abraham stammered, “I know what I’m asking of you,” Abraham cleared his throat, then whispered, “And I think you understand that my asking you to accept my hand in marriage is a complex commitment.”
Her day had been so banal. She was reading from her pile of scientific journals, munching from a bowl of cold popcorn. She wasn’t ready for this call or for life to change in the blink of an eye.
It had happened to her before. She’d been living through a normal day when she’d been, quite literally, slung into a new reality. All one could do was hold on tight and go along for the ride.
Tess glanced around and saw the worried look on her roommate Shanti’s face.
She felt bloodless as her whole body trembled.
As a child, Tess learned that shivering was the only way to express big emotions and stay safe.
She wasn’t a child anymore.
Adults face the world squarely on. Tess tried to roll her shoulders back, to stand erect like a soldier, to borrow some bravery from the rigidity of the stance. “Do you need me to come to you?” were the words that showed up.
Marry Abraham.
She was going to say yes, of course she was. She just hadn’t worked the words up to her lips yet.
“I think Ghana, for me, would not be optimal in this situation. I would prefer to come to you.”
“Yes, of course.”
“Does that mean?” For the first time through this conversation, there was energy in Abraham’s words. His vowels fluttered with hope.
“Yes, I’ll marry you. And as soon as we can. The sooner, the better.”
“Thank you, Tess. There are probably some things that need arranging on your end.” In Tess’s imagination, she saw Abraham’s words glow a warm, golden, relief-filled color. “And there are things for me to do here. I will most likely come at the beginning of June.”
“A June wedding will be beautiful.” She felt her throat close around those words and hold them back, if even for a moment more. “I’m going to hang up now. I need to figure out what hoops we need to jump through.”
“Thank you, Tess. The children and I love you. We will be a good family.”
Abraham needed her. With stage three cancer and two young, motherless children, he needed her.
And Tess needed to do this.
“Yes. Yes. It will be good. I love you, too. I'll see you soon.”
Shanti was on her feet, running in place, her hands tightly clasped and held to her chest. The jubilation that she reined in until Tess swiped the phone closed bubbled out with a whoop and joyous laughter.
Tess struggled to lift her head to catch Shanti’s gaze.
“You’re in shock!” She ran over and grabbed Tess’s arms, which hung heavily at her sides like she was a beanbag doll. “Snap out of it!” Shanti jumped up and down, grinning ear to ear. “You just got engaged to Levi! We need to celebrate.”
Shanti probably interpreted Tess’s silent tears, slithering, fat and salty, down her cheeks as happiness.
But these tears were shed for the ramifications of that phone call. And all the people who would feel the effects.
For Abraham's plight, she shed tears of heartache.
For what she was giving up, there were tears of grief.
She couldn’t believe how this had unfolded. In a snap, the life she had projected out in front of her vanished like the hologram she’d always had the inkling it was. Some things were too good to be true.
But mostly, Tess’s tears fell because of what she was about to do to Levi.
She pressed against the wall for stability.
Shanti was no longer dancing and clapping. A look of confusion tightened her features. “What's happening right now?”
“I'm getting married,” was Tess’s monotone answer.
“Why do you look like that? Like you’re seeing a ghost. You should be joyful! You love Levi. You’re going to have such a wonderful life together.”
Tess licked her lips and scraped them between her teeth to keep her mouth from quivering as she shook her head.
Uncertainty waivered Shanti’s words. “That was Levi, right?”
“No,” Tess didn’t move her lips as she spoke. “That was Abraham.”
“Do I know Abraham?” Shanti thrust back, scowling. “Who is Abraham? What do you mean you love Abraham? You love Levi,” Shanti’s voice flashed to anger and disbelief. “Levi is the man you said lives in your bones. Levi is the man you said fills your dreams with hope and contentment. Levi is the one you pray for every day, and it’s his photo you kiss every night. Levi is the one you're going to marry. Everyone knows that.”
Shanti’s thinking that things worked out for the best, that love conquered all, came from a place of privilege, and was sandpaper scratching at Tess’s nerves; she wanted to shut this down. “Levi and I are not engaged. I’m engaged to Abraham. You’ve never met him. He lives in Ghana.”
There was a long pause before Shanti pulled her brows tight, making deep lines across her forehead. “Your dad was from Ghana, right?”
“Yes, I’ve known Abraham almost all my life. And I love him very deeply. It will be an honor to be his wife.” Tess’s body was made of cotton batting that was rolled tight enough to keep her upright despite her feeling boneless. The thickness padded her emotions to the point that Tess found herself without any sensation.
But quickly, the batting fibers gave way, and Tess collapsed to the floor.
Her tears hadn’t stopped rolling down her cheeks. They burned her.
Shanti sat down in the hallway facing Tess. “Hey.” And when Tess didn’t look up, she reached a hand to Tess’s knee. “Hey.” Shanti waited for Tess to look her in the eyes. “Can you tell me what's happening right now?” When Tess didn’t answer, Shanti raised her voice and commanded, “What’s happening? Is this a seizure? Tess,” she gripped Tess’s shoulders and spoke slowly and clearly, “Are you having a seizure? Why are you shaking like this?”
Tess scooted back until she could feel the cold surface of the wall through her sweatshirt.
She pulled her feet in toward her hips and wrapped her arms around her shins, lowering her head to her knees to contain the trembling in her limbs.
She remembered this sensation.
She was right back in the terror of life.
Shanti ran to her bedroom and came back with a blanket, wrapping Tess in its warmth. “I don’t know what’s happening right now. I need some words. I need you to tell me so I know what to do. Should I call 911? Do you need a hospital?”
Tess held her hand out, and Shanti grasped it. Kneeling next to Tess, Shanti changed her tone to the cooing sound someone might use to coax a puppy from under the shrubs. “When you can.”
“Abraham,” Tess managed.
“The man on the phone that asked you to marry him. Who is he? Is he threatening you?”
“No. No. I have known Abraham since I was a child. Eight. When I lived in Ghana. And I do love him deeply and decidedly. I would do anything for him. Of course, I would.” Life was a vortex. As the centrifugal force of today dragged her away from her center, she was smashed against the sides of her reality.
“You lived in Ghana?” Shanti shook her head. “Wait, what?”
“My parents met at university. I was a surprise that didn’t stop them from pursuing their academic research. When they received a study grant, we moved to northern Ghana, where they were gathering data. We moved there when I was five.”
“For how long?” Shanti curled like Tess, her hands gripping her shins, her cheek resting on her knee.
“Until I was about to turn eleven. I have dual citizenship. My dad was Ghanaian, and my mom was American. They met at university and … I already said that.”
Shanti sipped air audibly into her nostrils and, even more quietly than before, whispered, “What happened in Ghana? Why do you love Abraham enough that you would do anything for him well over a decade later?”
Tess could hear in Shanti’s words the battle of wants—the want to help in this situation and the want not to know what had happened to bring this day about. She was brave to ask the question.
A friend who can sit with you when you’re in pain was precious and rare.
Usually, Tess shielded this story from everyone. Levi knew. She had to explain why she had night terrors when she slept with him. She pushed off telling him for as long as she could. But her thrashing and swallowed screams abraded his senses. He told her how he wanted to protect her, and he felt he was failing because she didn’t feel safe in his arms.
Tess had to explain that he couldn’t protect her from her past.
The past was a roaring monster that she fought to exhaustion.
“What happened in Ghana, Tess?” Shanti asked in a whisper.
Tess pursed her lips, then exhaled. It was hard to tell this story aloud. But Tess needed Shanti’s friendship and support. In Shanti’s eyes, Tess was doing the most disloyal and self-destructive thing imaginable, throwing away her wonderful relationship with Levi and their hopes and dreams. If Shanti didn’t learn the why, she’d see Tess as an unfaithful and undependable person. Tess knew she’d lose her friend.
The story needed to be told.
“I was eight. My family went to the market to buy food and listen to music. We liked going there together to explore. I remember it as lively and fun.” Past a clenched jaw, she muttered, “Until it wasn’t.”
Tess rested her gaze on the wall painted flat white with grey scuff marks from the tires where they leaned their bikes to get them out of the weather on wet days. She pictured her green bike there. The spokes. The meditation of riding to campus. And while those images did bring her a modicum of relief, Tess couldn’t hold the corners of her mouth in a straight line. Her lips seemed to melt down the sides of her face, rivulets of lava that would soon harden into a permanent lament.
It took her a long time. And some failed efforts at inhaling before she closed her eyes. Her heavy lids would not open again, but she found her voice. “Yes, eight years old. We were at the market. I remember every detail of that day. Every color, line, and dot. Every sound and every smell. That day and what happened next.”
Tess heard Shanti push herself around until they were side by side.
Shanti wrapped an arm around Tess and pulled until Tess rested her head on Shanti’s lap. After tucking the blanket tightly around Tess, Shanti rhythmically stroked Tess’s hair.
“At the market, a fight broke out over the cost of a Guinea fowl. My father had been standing next to the man who argued that the cost was too much and that the vendor was trying to take advantage of people. Two tribes had been antagonistic towards each other. It seemed to be a low boil until it wasn’t. When the fight broke out that day, the men must have thought my dad was involved. They attacked, punching Dad over and over until he collapsed to the ground. My mother was screaming. She had a hold of my wrist, and with a great heave, I was flying up in the air like the games parents play with their kids when they are walking between two adults, letting their kids' feet swing high. Up, up, I sailed, higher than I’ve ever swung before. Mom called, ‘Abraham!’ I didn’t recognize her voice and couldn’t tell why she sounded like that. But now, as an adult, I recognize it as the sound of terror.”
“Your dad,” Shanti whispered. “This was over the price of a chicken?”
“It wasn’t a simple argument about the price of a hen but a dispute between two tribes over land. And that day, in that market, with my parents standing too close to the epicenter, the horrors that shook the entire region began. But, of course, no one understood that at the time. The Guinea Fowl War.”
“The Guinea Fowl War,” Shanti repeated. The rhythmic combing fingers dragging through Tess’s curls had a hypnotic effect.
Tess felt like she’d left her body and was watching herself tell this story from the end of the hall. “Mom swung me up. And as I flew into the air, my mom screamed, ‘Save her! Run!’ She was telling this stranger to save me. He did. He turned and ran, trapping me to his chest like a sleepy toddler. My arms looped around his neck. My legs wrapped his waist. He was very tall and strong. I thought he was an adult, but he was only sixteen. I later learned he was one of the advanced students that Mom tutored in the evenings. That’s how she knew him, knew him well enough to trust him.”
“This is Abraham.”
“Abraham,” Tess said, and his name buzzed her lips. “As he wove through the crowd, I saw my mom fighting to get to my dad. My dad was fighting to get up and get to Mom. And then, the machetes raised high in the air. I saw the blade— They were killed.” That last sentence sounded so matter-of-fact.
It was a matter of fact.
Facts that couldn’t change or be gentled.
That event was an emotion that was so big that Tess had never found a word for it. It was inexplicable. A deep guttural sound vibrated in her bones as if looking for a way to seep out and escape.
But that sound was imprisoned in her marrow forever.
Tess clamped a hand over her mouth in case it wanted to crawl out at this telling. But it didn’t. It had lived in her for so long, set up house, and put up its feet. There was nothing that would pry this thing out. Not in this lifetime.
Shanti’s thighs under Tess’s head trembled as if she were freezing cold and trying to generate her own warmth. After a moment, Shanti’s hand, stiffer and less rhythmic, began to comb Tess’s curls again.
Tess bet that Shanti wished she hadn’t asked.
But now that she’d turned the faucet on, the story continued to trickle out. Not the details, just the broad sweeps. Enough that when she told Levi, he understood her night terrors and how he couldn’t stop them.
Tess hoped that Shanti would understand this personal earthquake, too.
“When Abraham returned to his village, he set me on the floor by the doorway in his hut. I remember that I couldn’t make my eyes blink. My eyeballs were dry and painful. In their language, which I couldn’t understand, Abraham quickly passed the information on to his mom. She—Mama Ya—unfolded three blankets and laid them on the ground. She gestured wildly to Abraham, and he ran out, leaving me alone with the frenzied activities in their hut. With incredible purpose, Mama Ya gathered things, placing them in the center of the blankets. Her son Moses, who was thirteen at the time—helped. I didn’t know what to do other than stand there and pee down my leg.”
“Oh, Tess.”
“I watched Mama Ya making difficult choices about what went into the center of the blankets. Each got a cooking bowl, food, bottles of water, and matches. Each got a couple changes of clothes. When Abraham returned, Mama Ya was busy folding the blankets into packages and then tied them with rope. Abraham had a purple blanket packet on his head.”
Tess remembered him standing in the doorway of the dark hut, the sunlight shining behind him silhouetted there.
“I recognized that purple blanket from off my bed. That packet was mine.” Tess licked her lips and swallowed, wondering how long she would be given the respite of being out of her body. This was a familiar trick she’d used as a child when things turned from scary to terrifying. It was a useful skill for her soul to be able to sit off to the side as an observer.
But she couldn’t beckon this skill; the ability came to her at times of great necessity.
At times when she was suffering existential threat.
“We put the bundles on our heads and left the hut. The chickens clucked and pecked in the yard. The coals glowed in the fire pit with its ring of flat stones. We were walking fast. Abraham had a tight hold of my hand. As we left the village, Mama Ya took the time to tell the people we passed. They ran back to their own homes. The wind carried the news like a banshee’s cry. Danger sizzled. I remember thinking it was like bacon, the sound. I can’t tell you why I had that impression.”
Shanti sharply inhaled with the sudden illumination. “You hate it when I cook bacon.”
“I absolutely do.”
“So you got out, and you were safe,” Shanti whispered as if she was closing the book and the bad was over, the tale told.
Tess needed Shanti to understand that, no, it wasn’t it. And because that wasn’t it, she would give up anything, do anything for Abraham. Anything.
Tess bit her lower lip, then scraped it free. “Mama Ya thought in a day or so we could go back. We hid in the forest. We ate our food. We drank our water. And we listened to the screams. When our provisions ran out, decisions needed to be made. Abraham snuck back to the village to see what was happening. The only thing left of the village was piles of ash. The chickens were gone, and so were all the vegetables in the Ya family’s patch. That night, when the screams came from pockets of forest around us, Mama Ya said they were hunting for the people hiding. She decided to go west toward the village where she had family. We ran for days with nothing to eat. No water. We ran as the fighting spread. Huts burned. It was as though the earth heaved and threw people into the air. Then they landed to be thrown again.”
“Shit,” Shanti exhaled. She really regretted asking. It was in her voice that she wanted to backpedal to the time when she didn’t know.
“We got to Mama Ya’s cousins' village and begged for safety. They were from a neutral tribe and were afraid of retaliation for harboring the light-skinned child—me. Mom was white. They allowed me to stay in the hut but not be seen. They hid me behind their tallest baskets. It was the dry season. There was no extra food for people to share. We ate bugs from the trees and worms we dug up.”
“Oh.”
“Mama Ya treated Abraham like he was an adult and understood that he’d made a covenant when he accepted me into his arms at the market. My mother’s dying plea was that Abraham keep me safe. And he lived up to that promise no matter what happened next. He made sure that I ate first, even when it meant he would go without. Our stomachs were so pinched … When the war reached the cousin’s village, the people were heaved again. And again. And again. This went on for two years. Then came peace.”
“How … How did you get to America?”
“After the unrest quieted enough that Mama Ya felt safe to travel to Accra, we walked to the American Embassy. There at the gate, Mama Ya handed the guard two things that Abraham had the foresight to bring: my parents’ picture with their names on the back and their address book. My aunt and uncle flew to Ghana to pick me up.”
“To go home to a country you probably couldn’t remember. Your family must have been so grateful to the Ya family.”
“They were. But how do you pay back that kind of moral debt?”
“You marry Abraham?”
Tess wasn’t willing to come forward in her timeline quite yet. “My aunt gave Mama Ya some money. I know it was enough money for Mama Ya to have a small house. For her to furnish it. To buy some clothes. Some food stores. And have something in the bank for the dry seasons. That sounds like a lot of money. But in Ghana, a little money goes far. Mama Ya didn’t save me in the hopes of a reward.” Tess shook her head. “That would have been too distant a thought. We were struggling from moment to moment for survival. And yes, it would have been so much easier on her had I not been with them. She saved me because her heart was golden.”
“Yes. Yes. Obviously. But there are different kinds of love. Your love for Levi is not the same love you feel for Abraham.” Shanti argued.
“I am not a heroine in one of your novels, Shanti. My life isn't the way I would have designed it or even what I thought was bearable. I only live because of Abraham. There is no question here. There is no choice. If you watched your parents' murders, and you ran for your life, eating bugs and begging for safety, you wouldn't try to force a happily-ever-after on me. Abraham has cancer and needs Western medicine. If he dies, his children will need a mother. A mother that they met while their father was still here. A mother they believe is their family.”
“Wait. Wait. Hold on there.” Shanti shook her head and held up her hands. Every part of her body language yelled, “No, stop!”
Tess was starting to feel combative, angry that she had to explain her determination to be there for Abraham. She was back in her body again.
Pressing herself away from Shanti’s lap, Tess sat, her legs crossing in front of her. She waited for the blood in her head to settle into its normal rhythm. “Abraham didn't give up his food or shield me with his body for some distant prize. He did it because his heart is pure.”
“You’ve kept in touch since you came back to the States? Have you seen him over the years?
“I went to Mama Ya’s funeral. I met Abraham’s wife. She was pregnant with their third child. And tragically, she died in labor. Both she and the child passed.”
Shanti’s hand grasped the cloth over her heart. “My god, the tragedy of that.”
“Her passing has been a terrible ache in Abraham. He isn’t interested in loving anybody other than his wife. Not in this lifetime. That's not who he is.”
“But he proposed.”
“It means he needs me. It means I have an opportunity to keep him safe.”
“From what?”
“From what comes next. Abraham’s village was destroyed, his people dispersed, and his family killed.”
“What about his brother?”
“Moses? He died in a car accident. I am the only family Abraham has left. He needs his children to be safe, and that’s what this is about. It would be the biggest honor of my life to shield his children from whatever is on the horizon.” She looked at her lap. “I have to believe that someday Levi will at least understand my decision. He's been to war. He knows the atrocity, the deprivation, and the fear.”
“And he knows all about Abraham?”
“Yes, they’ve met. He went with me to Ghana to the funeral. Levi knows what the Ya family means to me. Abraham,” Tess met Shanti’s gaze, “I love Abraham. And Levi will eventually conclude that just like he has an ethos that he lives by, I have one, too.”
Shanti’s voice was deflated as she said, “You know if you do this to him, Levi will never forgive you.”
Tess went completely blank. “I'd never ask him to.”
Chapter One
LEVI
Present Day
Texas
Dressed in khaki tactical from head to booted foot, a Beast Mode logo taking up center mass on his company T-shirt, the man stretched out a confident hand, shifting it between Levi, Reaper, and Goose.
He wanted to shake the boss-man’s hand first, but he was unsure of the hierarchy, so there he stood, hand extended, waiting for the superior to reach out.
It made more sense than it would in a normal first greeting. Cerberus Tactical K9 wasn’t public-facing. There was no way to research in advance to figure out the corporate hierarchy or to match a photographed face to a name.
Reaper was the chief K9 trainer at Iniquus’s Cerberus Tactical. Goose was one of the veterinarians. But the teammates were here looking for a tactical K9 for Levi. All three men were considered teammates, and Levi wasn’t in their chain of command. Still, Levi hesitated for a split second because he was the new hire.
Since neither of his teammates twitched, Levi extended his hand. “Levi Elliot.”
“Conroy Dexter, I’m one of the partners here.”
After releasing Conroy’s grip, Levi indicated with a bladed hand. “Our trainer, Reaper. Our vet, Goose.”
“Welcome. Welcome. Glad to have you.” Conroy reached up and adjusted the bill of his ballcap to cast a shadow across his eyes.
Reaper pointed to Conroy’s shirt. “Beast Mode, you come up with that name?”
“Ah, we all threw names in the pot. It’s the one we could agree on. And I’m not saying that we hadn’t worked that out over a few beers.” He chuckled good-naturedly. “So I have the names of both dogs you’re thinking about, Casper and Diabla. Since you’ve seen videos of their skillsets and already have a good rundown on their health from the paperwork I sent with the inquiry, I think we’re going to have a mighty fine day today. Casper and Diabla are amazing athletes.”
“Looking forward to it,” Reaper said. “I’d like it if you could take us on a tour of the kennels while you share more granular details about your training process.”
Conroy looked wary. “Yeah, we have a policy against kennel tours and sharing details.” He rocked back on his heels and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Now, what I can do is I can teach you how to command the dog and show you their work in action, but our training process is proprietary.”
“There’s a rationale behind that?” Reaper asked. The slow smile and back tilt of his head was a move that Levi, even in his brief time at Iniquus, recognized. Reaper had his bullshit sensor out.
“There is.” Conroy pulled his phone from his pocket, pressed a button, said, “Cerberus Tactical is here,” then slid the phone back away. “We produce highly trained beasts that bring top dollar and deserve every penny of that money. Our pups are sourced out of Europe—the Czech Republic and Belgium for the most part. You all know this—it takes years of work to fine-tune the skills they need to perform the tactical duties that save lives.” He lifted his brows and then dropped them with emphasis. “How we get to that finished product is our secret sauce. If we share it, our dogs lose value.”
“I see.” Reaper was casting his gaze around the complex before refocusing on Conroy. “So maybe you’d share an outline of your training philosophy?”
“Our training philosophy is to find out what the dog likes to do best and hone that down to a sharpened tool.”
Reaper gave a slow nod. “Okay, then we’d like to tour your facilities and training grounds.”
“Yep. How about we go around back?” Conroy turned to Levi as they set off walking. “Levi, you’re the one looking for a K9 partner, right? Or are you all looking to expand the Cerberus kennel?” He swung his gaze back to Reaper and Goose. “If you like what you see today—"
“I’m looking for the right partner,” Levi cut the guy off.
Conroy had the hungry look of someone who thought he might have a big fish on his line, and supper was all but assured.
What Reaper and Goose decided was none of Levi’s business.
Levi was hard-focused on making the right partner choice.
The dog by his side was going to be one of the most significant relationships of his life—a battle buddy to go through everything headed their way.
In the field, a K9 made up for Levi’s human deficits with the ability to sniff out dangers, use its keen hearing and eyesight, and the ability to bring to bear around two hundred and forty pounds of bite strength that launched when the bad guy made the wrong twitch.
And that K9 had better be trained to know just what that twitch looked like.
Beyond the training, Levi was looking for a dog of his heart, one where they could be of one mind, a buddy system of mutual support and care.
Everyone on the Cerberus team said that Levi would know when he found the right dog just like he’d know when he found the right girl.
Unfortunately, Levi had found the right girl, Tess. He knew they were meant for each other the first time he looked across the park and saw her with her hand out, seeming to gather the air, then rubbing her fingers with her eyes looking skyward. There was something magical about that moment. About her.
Levi had asked her out, and from the get-go, they fit together like hand in glove. With Tess, Levi had felt seen and loved in a way that was so deep and held so much conviction that it lived in his cells.
Tess was his everything all the way up to the Dear John letter that was handed to him while he was deployed.
“I’m engaged to marry Abraham. I’m so sorry.”
Levi must have read that one sentence over a thousand times, trying to get it to make sense.
That Tess would love Abraham was a no-brainer. Levi would have found it odd for her not to. When Tess and he went to Ghana for Mama Ya’s, Levi met Abraham and extended his gratitude. When they were together, Levi hadn’t been jealous or concerned. He had no sense that Abraham was competition. Back then, Levi had only felt gratitude toward a man who had, at great peril and sacrifice, saved Tess.
That Tess ended up married to Abraham instead of him was unfathomable. He still couldn’t believe it after all these years.
Given his history, Levi was a might cautious about trusting his gut when it came to a connection.
Physical strain and bodily pain from doing his job felt good in Levi’s system.
The emotional kind? Not so much.
Thoughts of Tess brought back a picture of her that he’d long treasured. Tess was looking over her shoulder, smiling, with her eyes soft with love for him.
Ah, there was the sharp stab of her hook still caught in his chest.
There was the drag that he always felt when she came to mind.
Levi never gave in to that sensation; he wouldn’t stalk her social media, wouldn’t ring her up out of the blue, but it sure would be nice if he could cut that cord.
It was a great miracle that he’d experienced a woman like that in his life.
And she was the sole reason he’d never let himself get into a situation like that again.
Yeah, except for the brotherhood he formed on the Teams, Levi found keeping emotional enmeshment at arm’s length was best. That strategy kept his head in the game. Kept him pointed in the right direction without distractions.
Brothers, brewskies, doggos, and maybe a good conversation and laugh or two with an interesting woman. That would have to be enough for him.
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