Saturday, May 22nd
Saturday was one of those days with weather so perfect as to remember weeks after its passing. There was no humidity, an ideal temperature and enough of a breeze to perfume the air with the zillion flowers recently wakened after a tough winter or perhaps just planted to welcome the approaching summer season. No activity was more natural than spending the day like this biking the Pennsylvania countryside-with Cynthia Byrne.
The light jackets came off early as the pair pedaled along, mostly riding side by side since the rural roads carried sparse traffic. The two laughed and chattered like lifelong friends, perfectly comfortable in each other's company. Cynthia was thrilled with her new job and her school classes were finally coming together. Three prospective buyers had looked at the house and at least one seemed interested. While Dean caught brief hints of melancholy, she seemed for the most part successful in putting darker thoughts aside, content to enjoy the peace of the day.
The scent of lilacs filled the air and in the woods, white dogwood stood in stark contrast against the multi shades of green wakening to spring. Whole fields were yellow with buttercups or white with the ghosts of dandelions whose tiny parachutes floated off, seeking fertile fields in which to propagate.
Jeffrey Byrne's wife was in far better physical shape than she had let on, and the pair managed 20 miles before finally calling it quits, not because she was tired, but because, as she said, her what-sis was so sore. They picnicked on fresh bread and jam washed down with warm Gatorade and a banana for dessert, sprawled in the grass next to a country stream, in a meadow abloom with spring flowers. Their only company was an inquisitive cow that stared at these intruders in her personal domain. It was an unforgettable day and Dean never once thought of the missing Mr. Byrne until mid-afternoon while they were taking a short break and Cynthia mentioned his name.
"It was strange reading your report on Jeff-hearing what everyone thought of him. Mostly he was the man I knew but in some ways, he seemed like a stranger, especially at work."
"No one knew him as well as you," Dean answered, "It's your picture of him that's the most defined." He remembered some of the comments of Byrne's World Wide boss. "You have to take some of Mayer's remarks with a pinch of salt."
"You're right, of course." Then she added, "I was pleased by the comments of that girl Cece Baldwin-how Jeff went out of his way to help her. He'd mentioned her a number of times and I know he felt she had potential but was handicapped by her lack of self respect."