Chapter 92
Leroy turned sixty in the yard where else and the gathering was the full constellation, the people who had made both of them.
He was larger now than he had been, and slower-moving, and his hair was grey at the temples and his laugh was exactly the same that deep, full-body laugh that had always come from somewhere foundational in him.
His business had been partially handed over to his daughter, Simone, who was twenty-eight and had his directness without his sentimentality, which made her in some ways a better operator. He still came in three days a week. He found it difficult to be fully absent from something he had built.
Marcus understood this completely.
They sat on the back wall in the evening, the two of them, which was where they always ended up at gatherings, regardless of the gathering.
'Sixty,' Marcus said.
'Sixty,' Leroy said. 'And you're already two years ahead.'
'I look better for it.'
'You look exactly the same as you looked at thirty-five.'
'You need glasses.'
They sat in comfortable silence for a while. The party moved around them. Their children moved through it. The yard held them the way yards hold the people who have claimed them.
'I keep thinking about what we were,' Leroy said, eventually.
'Seven years old,' Marcus said.
'Running through the yard. Climbing that tree.'
'The tree's down,' Marcus said.
'I know. But there's a new one.'
'There is.'
Leroy looked at the small new mango tree in the corner of the yard. It was five years old now and had come to knee height, maybe a little more.
'Thomas tried to climb it last week,' Leroy said.
'Elise told me,' Marcus said. 'She said he wasn't tall enough yet.'
'He will be,' Leroy said.
'He will be,' Marcus agreed.
They sat until Sandra called them in, which was right. Which was always right.