Two mornings later, when Hawkeye blinked awake, there was a 5-year-old girl staring at him from above. She was leaning in so close that her face filled his entire field of vision. It was as if he were some kind of artifact, she was watching him so intently. He crossed his eyes and stuck out his tongue, which did the trick: she giggled and started to jump up and down. "Get up, Hawkeye! Get up, get up!"

Erin Hunnicutt adored her Uncle Hawkeye.

He stretched and swung his legs off the bed, sitting on the edge. He held out his arms, "Give us a hug, young miss!" She launched herself into his embrace and he laughed as he held her. "You were asleep last night when I got in. Did you know I was coming?"

She pulled back and nodded, "Yeah, Daddy told me." She was bouncing on her feet a little, excited and happy. "Can we go to the park? Can you push me on the swings? Can we—"

Peg appeared in the doorway of the guest room, giving Hawkeye an apologetic look. "Erin, not today, OK? There will be plenty of time for the park and the swings while Hawkeye is here, but today you and I are going to your grandma's, remember?"

Erin seemed to deflate before their very eyes. Hawkeye said, "Wow, going to see your grandma, huh? That sounds like fun!"

Erin grumbled, "I see her all the time."

Peg stepped into the room and took Erin's hand. "Well, Hawkeye's going to be staying with us for 10 whole days, so you'll have plenty of time to play with him. Today your grandma needs our help, so that's what you and I are going to do."

Hawkeye smiled up at Peg, admiring her firmness. He was not a parent, but he could imagine himself always giving in to the kid's whims, too much of a pushover to be any good at the job. "You go see grandma, Erin. We'll do the park and the swings tomorrow."

She reluctantly nodded and Peg led her away as Hawkeye tried to get oriented in his best friend's guest room. He finally located his suitcase and fished out his toiletries, then made his way to the bathroom for a shower.

When finally he was showered, shaved, dressed and ready for the day, he found B.J. reading the morning newspaper at the kitchen table. Evidently Peg and Erin had left for their day with Peg's mother. He took a seat across the table from his former tentmate, who put the newspaper down and smiled that million-watt Hunnicutt smile. "Good morning, Hawk. What can I get you for breakfast?"

"Don't go to any trouble, Beej. Whatever you've got."

B.J. moved to the stove, saying, "Scrambled?" over his shoulder.

"That sounds good."

"And coffee's still warm in the pot."

Hawkeye helped himself to coffee while B.J. scrambled some eggs for him. "Thanks for letting me come visit, Beej. Really."

B.J. waved a hand. "You are always welcome in this house, Hawk, and don't you ever forget it." He glanced back at his friend over his shoulder. "So your dad kicked you out of the office?"

"He had every right. Three strikes and I was out… too many missed appointments. Too hungover to get my ass outta bed in time."

"What's the drinking about, anyway? I mean, sounds like it's gotten a little out of hand lately."

Yeah, Hawkeye had to admit that it had. Was he drinking out of depression over his divorce? Celebrating his newfound freedom? He had no idea. He leaned back in the kitchen chair, suddenly weary. "I don't know what I want," he said, catching even himself off guard.

B.J. turned off the stove and brought Hawkeye's scrambled eggs over to the table, along with the salt and pepper shakers. "Hawk, you're allowed to feel sad about your marriage breaking up. Hell, I'm surprised your dad isn't more understanding. He's a reasonable guy—he ought to know what an emotional time this is for you."

Hawkeye dug into the scrambled eggs and said around a mouthful, "It was not a good marriage, Beej. I wouldn't say I'm all that broken up about it, to be honest."

Hawkeye's marriage to Kate Greenslade, manager of Crabapple Cove's only bookstore, lasted 11 months. Their courtship had been fast and fiery, culminating in a four-week engagement that had led to a small and simple ceremony in the backyard of the house they'd bought together. The fire of their relationship burned out pretty quickly after that. They hadn't really gotten to know one another before tying the knot, and when reality hit them, it hit hard. The fact that they even made it to 11 months was astounding in retrospect.

B.J. once again sat across the table from him, a concerned look on his face. "A divorce is not something to take lightly. It's a big thing."

"It's an adjustment, yes, but it's not like I was married for a long time."

"But you were in love."

Hawkeye considered that. "I'm not exactly sure it was real love. It was attraction and physical chemistry, but I think it crashed so quickly because that's all it was."

A silence settled in as Hawkeye turned his full attention to his eggs. After a time he became aware that B.J. was staring at him, and he lifted his eyes to his friend's, swallowing slowly. "What?"

"Hawkeye Pierce," B.J. said softly and cautiously, "have you never been in love?"

And that… that was an intriguing question. The answer was not something Hawk was willing to examine.

But as he sat there trying to figure out how to reply, B.J. answered for him. "Oh hell, what am I thinking? Of course you were—Carlye Walton."

Actually, Hawkeye supposed that Carlye had maybe been his first love, but that relationship had been another brilliant flash of passion that sputtered out in short order.

He must have been wearing a melancholy expression because B.J. reached out and rubbed his forearm, "Shit, Hawk, I'm sorry. You came out here to get away from your troubles and here I am, depressing the hell out of you."

Hawkeye waved his fork in the air. "It's OK, Beej. I'm doing OK." He clasped B.J.'s hand briefly. "Don't worry about me. And that's an order."

B.J. laughed and started to clear the kitchen table. "Hawkeye Pierce neither gives nor takes orders. You must be some kind of imposter."

Yeah, that's exactly what I am, Hawkeye thought… Every day of my life, I pretend that I'm a normal person.