Orlando looks serious, and says, "I wasn't happy that you left, no. I miss you. I miss hearing you whistle and I miss knowing that when I'd come home from somewhere, I could flop on the couch and tell you about it and you always seemed to really care." He smiles a little, knowing Clay really did care. "And yeah, I miss the other stuff, too." He looks a little sheepish. "But I really do what you to be happy and if moving out was what it took, then that's what you needed to do."

He takes Clay's hand and looks at it, running fingertips over the bangs and bruises a carpenter always has. "It's helped me move on, too. I didn't want to, but I needed to, and your leaving was the catalyst that made me understand it."