Henry's head tilted as he regarded me. "This is surreal," he offered, though it seemed like he wished for a different word. "Listen, can we-"
That was all he got out before Lilah came from behind, dominating the conversation. He shot me a quick glance before he followed Lilah and Mel up the porch and through the front door. I closed the hatchback, shut the driver's door with my hip and jiggled my car keys, not sure what to do next.
"Hey, Spring," Dart said, enfolding me in a quick and friendly hug.
"It's so good to see you," I said, hugging him back. His T-shirt was warm from the sun.
"Long day?"
"It's barely noon," I replied. "Too early to be long."
He laughed at my non-joke and, for maybe two seconds, stared at me. I could almost see what I thought he might be envisioning: Julia standing at my side. His eyes refocused a moment later.
"How have you been?" he asked.
"Fine, fine. You?"
He smiled, running his hand through his stylishly unkempt light hair. "Fine, fine," he echoed. We both turned toward the house at the sound of Lilah's laugh.
The Knightly home was huge from the outside, like the grand fortress atop a hill that it was. On the inside, however, it was much more subtle. There were no ornate Persian rugs, crystal chandeliers, or silk draperies. Instead, the rustic, western décor was warm and welcoming.
When Dart and I entered, Lilah was acting as hostess, pointing out interesting items as we passed. Henry was nowhere to be found, leaving only Mel to pay attention to Lilah. She was such a trooper. She winked at me then quickly turned back to Lilah, nodding and tapping her chin, enthralled.
I lingered in the vestibule, taking in the many focal points of the room.
Past the gray stone-tiled entryway, the floors were light hardwood, covered with thick rugs in various primary colors. Our stack of suitcases was piled at the foot of an open, switch-back staircase. Brown and white-marbled hides and miscellaneous buckskins were draped over the banisters of the second and third floor landings that opened up to overlook the living room. Directly over the brick fireplace was a pair of antlers.
Maybe five minutes later, Henry's voice came from behind me, whispering my name. When I turned around, half his body was around a corner. He motioned with his finger for me to follow.
From the familiar scent of clean mixed with spice, I knew he'd just showered and shaved. He'd also changed clothes again and was now in a white T-shirt and dark jeans. I had a hard time remembering the days when all he wore were Armani suits and argyle sweaters. Both extremes seemed fitting on him.
"Do you have a second?" he asked once we were alone in the hallway.
"Sure," I said, more relieved than I'd felt in months. I wanted nothing more than to be alone with him, to talk to him, to explain, if I possibly could.
"My sister wants to meet you."
"Oh." I blinked, not exactly disappointed. I'd been curious about Cami for a long time.
Henry took a step back and leaned his elbow against the wall in a very relaxed manner. "Just to warn you, she's a little shy, enormously socially awkward, but she's also your biggest groupie."
"Shut up," a soft yet irritated voice came from the crack in the door behind him.
"My groupie?" I whispered. "How does she know about me?"
"I've mentioned you once or twice," he explained. "Spring"-he pushed open the door-"this is my sister, Cami."
Camille Knightly stepped into the hall. Her big brown eyes regarded me through a row of thick black lashes. Naturally blushing, she wasn't wearing a stitch of makeup; she didn't need it. She had the same dark brown hair as her brother, waving past her shoulders, and she stood about five-three, no more than a hundred pounds. The girl was as cute as a button, the prettiest little thing outside the pages of a Seventeen magazine.
The way Alex had portrayed her, I'd half expected Cami to be some uppity and pampered, social climbing brat, more like Lilah Charleston and her sorority clones. But that was nothing like this delicate eighteen-year-old in faded jean capris and a pale yellow peasant top.
"Hi, Cami. It's nice to meet you."
"It's nice to meet you too," she said, a little stiffly. She didn't need to be embarrassed, but her brother, who was playfully jabbing her in the back to move forward, probably wasn't making it easier.
"Henry," I said, "would you grab my backpack from the front seat?" I dangled my car keys in front of him. "You can leave it in the living room and I'll meet you later?"
His lips pressed together, forcing upon me his oh-so-scary icy expression. But his eyes were grinning approvingly. He took my keys and gave Cami one last poke before leaving.
"I have two brothers," I said. "I know they can be a pain."
"He's always trying to embarrass me," she said in the direction he'd just bolted. "Especially around his friends. He still thinks I'm nine."
"He's just teasing. I think my brothers were put on earth to torture me." I lifted a smile, doing my best to help her feel comfortable. "I've been teased plenty of times by your brother, too. Doesn't seem fair, does it?"
She rolled her eyes. "No, it doesn't."
Voices from the living room were drawing nearer. Lilah's little tour must be heading our way. I wasn't willing to move yet, not until Cami was.
"So, I hear you're thinking of going to Cal Berkeley next year. You sure about that?" I made a face. "You know they're just a bunch of communists down there," I joked, presenting to her the bitter rivalry between Cal and Stanford.
Cami laughed harder that I thought applicable. "That's so funny. That's exactly what Trip said."
"You call him Trip, too?"
She shrugged her slight shoulders. "When he's around other people, he likes to think he's some big thing, but up here, he's just loser Trip."
"I love it!" I laughed.
"What kind of car do you drive?"
"It's a Subaru Outback," I said, surprised at the question. Cami seemed a little disappointed at my answer. "Why?"
"I don't know. The way Trip talked, I thought maybe you had a hybrid or an electric car."
"I hope to someday."
"I get my first new car next month," she said. "Anything I want."
"Have you decided?" Knowing her brother, I wondered if she would go the insanely expensive route like the Viper, the sporty route like his Jeep, or something more conventional … like a nice, medium-sized spaceship.
"My first choice is the Smart Car." This floored me, though I tried not to let it show. "Dad and I made a test drive a few weeks ago, but he says it's too impractical, because I can only fit in one passenger. So I'm getting a Prius. Red, I think. Or blue. What do you think?"
"Well, if you're going for economical, why not a full on electric or natural gas?"
"Dad said anything but that." A quiet scoff shook her chest. "So I'm saving up to buy my own. I'll have enough in a few years. He just doesn't grip that this country's in the middle of an environmental crisis. Trip doesn't get it, either," she whispered. "You saw what he was driving around in."
I nodded, placing the appropriate air of horror on my face.
"I think maybe his being at Stanford with more conscientious citizens altered him a little-for the good. Did you notice the white and blue receptacles around the ranch? We're recycling now. Started this summer. It was Trip's idea. Pretty cool, don't you think?"
"Very cool," I replied. "Impressive, actually, and a little … surprising?" I didn't mean my last word to come out like a question, but I couldn't help it. Henry initiating a recycling program?
Cami's brown eyes fluttered. She gave me the impression she was a very old soul, wise beyond her years. "I know my brother can act like a big, stupid gorilla sometimes," she said, "what with his caveman NRA talk, and have you seen his impersonation of Eleanor Roosevelt?"
I shook my head with a groan.
"Spot on," she reported. "It's an important election year, and he still mocks the system. He's incorrigible!"
Behind all her eye rolling and irritation, I could clearly see that Cami adored her brother. I knew for a fact that the feeling was mutual. I couldn't help myself from thinking Cami's tone sounded a lot like mine used to when Henry and I met to study. She was aggravated, yet forgiving. Oodles of love on all sides.
"The Indian blanket hanging on that wall was hand-woven by sweet little Navajo children." Lilah's voice came from around the corner.
I noticed Cami's posture stiffen. "My friend Mel is here with me," I said. "She's a blast. You'll like her."