Chapter Thirteen
Daniel held back a laugh at the expression on Mel’s face as she struggled up the hill from the goat pen. “It’s the altitude,” he said.
“I’ve hiked Mount Whitney,” she panted. “It’s not the altitude. It’s the shoes. My feet are killing me.”
He stopped. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. Do you need to rest or sit down or something?”
“It’s okay. They’re great walking shoes, but I’m still breaking them in. The others went up in smoke.”
“You should’ve told me sooner. Here.” He pointed to a low retaining wall. “Let’s sit for a minute.”
After another round of coffee and some of Ouida’s biscuits, Daniel had dragged Mel off for a tour.
She seemed interested in the berry bushes and fruit trees and the raised beds full of organic produce but had been especially intrigued by the long rows of medicinal herbs, especially those under the artificial lattice shade and tucked into the forest beyond the beds.
Grace, who was overseeing some workers transplanting seedlings from one of the greenhouses out into the prepared beds, got a chance to wax eloquent about wild-crafted versus wild-simulated herbs.
Like most of their visitors, Mel had been delighted by the elaborate chicken house and christened it the Chicken McMansion, which had led to a discussion about cage-free versus battery-cage eggs.
When they reached the solar barn, Mel had whipped out her digital recorder and grilled him for details about the property’s self-sufficiency, including the backup wood-fired boiler and the internet-enabled solar power monitoring system.
They’d spent so much time crawling around the control room and studying the inverters and generators that it was nearly time for lunch by the time they left.
Then she had spotted the goats. Mel fell in love with the adorable Nubians with their big floppy ears right away.
The farm had four females, bred for milking; two males, kept in a distant pen of their own; and four newly born kids, who were bouncing around, checking out the visitors at the fence and then bouncing away.
As with the chickens, Mel had been amazed at the sheer size of their enclosure, which included a rocky ridge they could clamber onto, trees for shade, and a huge wooden play set with ramps and walkways. She’d coaxed one of the youngsters close enough to the fence so she could scratch his ears.
So far, Daniel had avoided the whole ‘seeing the future’ issue, and Mel hadn’t brought it up. He tensed up every time she started to speak, thinking she was going to ask about the earthquake and Francesca and who knew what else. But she never did.
They sat companionably on the stone wall now. She started to untie her shoes, then stopped, probably afraid to see how bad the blisters really were.
“The way you talk about this place sounds like you grew up here. But your parents are in Philadelphia, right?” she asked.
He was tempted to ask her if this was off the record but didn’t.
“Not really. My father is usually in Washington, at least when Congress is in session. My mother…” He sighed.
“Who knows where she is? Europe, probably. Depends on the season and the weather.” She probably doesn’t even know where she is.
Mel’s expression didn’t reveal what she thought about that answer. “So did you grow up here?”
“More or less. When the three of us weren’t off at school, we were here.”
“Three of you?”
Damn. He would almost rather talk about the earthquake than this. “My older sister, Thea, Grace, and me.”
“Is Thea another doctor?” Mel asked.
“No, a lawyer. For Hartford Pharmaceuticals.”
Her eyebrows went up. “Really? So, she’s in Philadelphia.”
Daniel nodded but didn’t volunteer anything more. If she’d researched his background, she would have known about Thea. But maybe she hadn’t dug that far.
She looked around at the farm. “I would prefer this to Philadelphia myself.”
He relaxed. “I’ve been thinking of building a cabin of my own here somewhere. Give Nick and Grace some privacy. Room for all the kids they’re bound to have.” He felt a painful twinge at those words. Envy? Fear? “There’s an old cabin up beyond the apiary that might be salvageable.” For a hermit.
“I would love to have met your Pops.” Mel swept her arm around to encompass the view. “If he designed all this, he must’ve been a man with vision.”
“He was,” Daniel said. Even now, his throat still got tight.
“You were lucky to have such wonderful grandparents.”
On one side of the family, anyway. “Gram died when I was six, so it was mostly Pops. But Ouida did her best as a stand-in. Pops was always there for the big moments. School plays, birthdays, graduations.”
“I’m envious,” she said.
He was surprised. He had just said that his parents weren’t really parents and his grandfather had, for all practical purposes, raised the three of them, and she was envious? “Really?”
“Absolutely. My dad’s father, the Italian one, died young, and his mother remarried.
His stepdad didn’t approve of my dad’s career or wife and that disapproval extended to me as well.
We stayed connected to the extended family in Italy, though.
” She shrugged. “My mom is a longer story, but her family belongs to a church and they tried to… Well, basically, they thought she was possessed or a witch. First, they tried to exorcise her, and when that didn’t work, they shunned her.
So, I don’t really have any grandparents. ”
Daniel didn’t know what to say. “That’s really…” He paused, hunting for the right word. “Sad.”
“I make up for it with fabulous parents.”
“Now I envy you. But, as I recall, your parents gave you a horrible middle name.”
She glared at him. “You will forget that and never speak of it again.”
“Come on. How bad can it be? At least it’s not Moon Unit or Dweezil.”
Mel frowned, crossing her arms.
“It’s not Moon Unit or Dweezil, is it? Oh my God, it’s Dweezil, isn’t it?”
“For a kid just trying to be normal when her life seems so very different from every other kid in the world? It might as well have been.” She sighed. “It just never fit me.”
“Well. You said Melissa didn’t fit you before. Now it’s growing on you,” Daniel said.
“True. But I’m still not sharing.”
Daniel laughed. “Foiled again.”
They were both quiet for a while, listening to the myriad sounds of the farm: bird calls from all directions, guests’ voices from up in the woods, hens muttering to themselves.
Grace was talking to someone in the garden, and they could hear the soft buzz of bees on the nearby wildflowers.
No airplanes overhead, no traffic, no construction noises, no uproar. Just quiet.
Mel sighed with contentment. She didn’t shy away when a few of his girls buzzed close to check out her hair. They seemed to find her enchanting too.
“I guess sometimes we don’t realize how lucky we are with what we have,” he said. “Are you hungry yet, or can we tour the house before lunch?”
She nodded toward the apiary. “What about your lovely ladies?”
“I’m saving them for when Jamie comes this afternoon,” he said. “She loves to give tours, and she wants to show me why she thinks a couple of the hives are getting ready to swarm.”
Mel hopped up. “House it is, then.”
He showed her through the rest of the house. She was very enthused about the wine cellar and seemed enchanted by the huge game room downstairs, zeroing in on the patio. “Is this underneath the sunroom?” She looked out the patio doors at the sweep of lawn and garden and greenhouses beyond.
“The house sits on a slope. It’s a great view.”
She stroked her hand along the grand piano that sat next to the patio doors. “Who plays?”
“Thea. She’s the musical one.”
“This is a wonderful room. I mean, I thought the room upstairs was great, but this…” She looked around at the huge fireplace, the shelves full of games and the sturdy furniture. “I can imagine all the cousins lounging here at family gatherings while the grown-ups talk about boring stuff upstairs.”
Daniel smiled. “Yeah. I think that’s what Pops was hoping would happen.”
“I love that.” She pointed to the sign over the bar that read Warning ~ The Bartender is a Scientist.
“Grace can mix a mean cocktail, but these days she prefers to offer up smoothies,” Daniel admitted. “Are you hungry yet? Not much left to tour, except the office and the master suite.”
“I am thoroughly toured. But I would love to sit on the porch with a big ole glass of sweet, iced tea,” Mel said with an exaggerated drawl.
They had a late lunch in the family’s private end of the sunroom, Mel’s favorite part being the hot tub tucked away on the side with a view of the garden path lined with whimsical garden decor, bird feeders, and wind chimes. Then there was the hammock.
“I’m sleeping down here tonight,” she declared, pointing toward the hammock. “Right there.”
Daniel nodded. “I’ve done that a few times, after a soak in our hot tub. It’s filled with water from our springs on the mountain, by the way. Really good for you.”
“I bet it’s good for a lot of things.” She finished off the last bite of her sandwich and licked her fingers. Daniel found himself staring at her mouth, his own having gone completely dry. He knew those lips. He had kissed those lips.
“So, when are we going to talk about the elephant in the room?” she asked.
“El—” he croaked. “Elephant?”
“Your ability to see the future,” she said.
He relaxed a bit. This he could handle, especially after Mel’s revelation about her mother’s background.
“You said your mom sees the future,” he said. “Seer to kings and queens, as I recall?”
“My mom doesn’t see the future. She reads Tarot cards. Her readings are subject to interpretation.”
“I suspect your mom told you how the oracles in ancient times couched everything they said in ambiguous language. That way, they were always right, depending on how you interpreted the prophecy,” Daniel said. “And since nothing was ever written down by the oracle—”