“When’s he coming back?”

“Pardon?” Sally looked down in uncomprehension.

“The war’s over. When’s he coming home?”

“Oh, we won’t see him for a while. The papers say reconstruction’s going to take a long time. David might not be back ‘til next summer.”

“The Treaty of Versailles.”

“Pardon?”

Wally blushed and looked away himself. “Nothing. I just said that ‘There’s a treaty to be signed.’ Right now it’s an armistice, and it’s not official until a treaty’s been signed.” Wally picked a nearby blade of grass, brilliant green with recent rainfall.

Sally smiled down at her father’s newest hand once more. “Tell me about yourself, Wally Bayer.”

Wally smiled back. “There isn’t much to tell.”

“Try me.”