6. Milestones

I nearly dropped my mobile hearing the words. "But – I just left them this morning, and he was fine!"

"I don't know what to tell you." Rush sounded apologetic yet cool. "They've gotten him stabilised, but clearly something's wrong that no one knew about. I'm not family, so they won't give me specifics. Even though you're the emergency contact, I think it will take drastic events to get much more out of them than I did. In either case, they need you. Saga's at the hospital in hysterics about her father, and her brother has no one looking after him."

What the hell. Where exactly was all of this going? I didn't think even VICE could conspire against me to have so much go wrong all at the same time! "I'm – on my way," I choked, my emotions starting to take over. I knew he still had a lot of time left—thirty-three years and some months—but how would he be spending all of that time? I couldn't stand the idea of what happened to Crystal repeating itself in Mr. Rockford.

I stuffed everything into an interoffice envelope and darted out to my chopper. It wasn't that I felt Epic was in danger, but I knew he was easily upset being alone, despite his inability to handle strangers. They were still my family, even if not by blood, and I couldn't let them down. Oh, that so much of their stability hinged on Mrs. Rockford...

It was futile believing myself to not measure up to my foster mother, but I couldn't help it. She had her quirks, but it was undeniable that she was the glue that held all of us together. Poor Mr. Rockford was always overwhelmed, in retrospect, and I wagered his failure to graduate high school was at the cornerstone of this. We were all so proud when Mrs. Rockford got to test a new spacecraft that he must've taken a huge blow to his pride.

I had to see him again, to let him know what I knew. I just didn't know when that would be without knowing why he was rushed to the hospital. Why didn't Saga call me on her mobile? Surely THAT wasn't broken as well?

When I pulled up to the house for the millionth time today, I had my answer: she must have dropped it when the ambulance came. It was still intact, with minor scratches from hitting the driveway. I sighed in aggravation at everything that was happening. Well, at least I had my chance to take out the beacon—why give Vice an easy way to find her again?

I tried the front door, but it was locked. At least they had that sense, since Epic wasn't going to be much of a fight against intruders. I walked to the garage and picked up the spare key hidden behind the freezer, then I typed in the code for the door, 5349. The alarm beeped that it was disabled, and I unlocked the door and stepped inside.

The kitchen looked identical to how it was when I had left it this morning save a broken glass on the floor with spilled juice in a puddle, which I rushed to clean up. Their breakfast plates were still on the table, apparently left for Epic to do for dishwashing duty—or, they were still there because Mr. Rockford didn't make it much longer after breakfast? I tried to figure the timetable in my head, but it just made me feel guilty thinking about it. It wasn't my fault, I tried to convince myself, but my imagination was running wild with the most outlandish possibilities, like Vice getting his jerk on and sending his minions to make mischief on the people closest to me—

Well, no point worrying NOW. I walked upstairs to Epic's room and knocked on the door. "Epic?" I asked, not certain what he cared to be called these days. "I don't know if you know, but Pop's in the hospital and Saga's with him. I've come by to make sure you're okay."

Nothing.

"Are you okay? Let me know. If I don't hear anything, I'll have to come in and check on you, okay?"

His voice was barely audible. "...Anna..."

"Yes, Epic. It's Anna. I'm here to babysit you for now, okay? Can I come in, or do you want to be left alone?"

"...Anna..."

"Yes or no? May I come in?"

I didn't get a clear answer from him. In the past, when I went in his room without his permission, he went into fits, so I was hesitant to disrupt his little world. It made me feel impotent, having the responsibility but none of the authority. I respected the Rockfords for taking me in, but I couldn't imagine fostering a child myself, particularly if it meant one like Epic. Adults I could deal with fine, but kids—

Then I had a flash, a memory of Vice and I when we were younger. He was threatening even then, and I still saw much of him in many of the children I'd see around the neighbourhood—an unfortunate side effect of his abuse. That was a long time ago, I told myself, and kids can't hurt me...

Nevertheless, I felt lightheaded, hugging the doorframe to keep from collapsing. I couldn't recall ever losing this much control of my functions before in such a short timeframe. True, I hadn't seen nearly as much of Vice as I had in the last two days.

"Epic," I called again, trying to get my mind off of things, "let me know if you need help with anything, please? Or if you want to eat? To talk?"

The silence was bothering me. I had to take a peek—

Almost as soon as I gently opened his door just a crack, he slammed against it. "NO!" he cried. "No..."

"Okay, okay," I said, surrendering. "I'll leave you alone. Just call to me if you DO need anything."

I couldn't understand his behaviour. It almost seemed like he was afraid of me, but I did my best to just be his friend. It was a trial not taking all of this personally, and it was frustrating being in such a no-win position. There was a literal wall between us where the one between Saga and I was figurative, and I at least had an idea how to tear down Saga's. What could I do now but wait?

That was another puzzle in itself. I didn't feel comfortable going in either the master bedroom or Saga's, and the only other space on the landing besides the shared bathroom was the narrow hallway. I could sit on the stairs, but that wasn't exciting, and I wasn't sure if I would hear Epic from downstairs if he happened to need help.

The things I did for this family... I plopped down at the top of the stairs with the envelope of printouts. The problem with studying them was their lower quality compared to the high detail in the photos—I could make out even less of what was supposed to be in them. I stared in particular at the one without a number, trying to see if Fender and I just hadn't found where the number was. The subject seemed to be female and either tomboyish or just happening to have worn work clothes that day, with none of the lace, sequins, or fake jewel studs in the clothing on some of the others. What clued me in was the faint hand in the background, wearing a ring with a subtlely feminine touch to it. The style seemed vaguely familiar, but I couldn't place it though I sifted through years of memories. It was a long time to try to remember, and I felt exhaustion sinking in...



Someone was shaking me awake. "Anna?"

"Hmm?" I was leaning against the side of the staircase. It felt like I was regularly coming to in odd places. "What's wrong?"

Saga had tears in her eyes. "Pop has Hepatitis-B."

"Does he?" I recalled the symptoms: liver damage, jaundice... It seemed a bit odd that he would just spontaneously break down, but I wasn't a doctor to be able to say for certain he wouldn't. "How is he?"

"Stable, but we still aren't sure how he got it. Mum was definitely healthy when she... Well, I don't have it, either. Anyway, they're going to keep him there for a few days for observation, after which – I don't know what's going to happen."

It was a real problem, I knew. "You can still get to school," I noted.

"Yeah, I'm used to taking the bus. It's just, what, now I'm going to have to take care of Pop, too?"

I shook my head. "It's manageable, but he should be back to his usual self once the major symptoms are under control. There's no cure, but a lot of times it's just a chronic illness rather than a full-time disability."

"But here I wanted to be able to go off to Uni, maybe! How can I do that when Pop's sick?"

Though I wanted to alleviate her fears, I couldn't break Mr. Rockford's confidence about her college fund. "It's good of you to worry about your family, but ultimately it's not your duty to save them."

"But I can't—"

It was heartbreaking, but I knew how she felt. I would be happy to give them all of my money, but it would do, what? Help for a year or so, then they'd just be back to where they were, and I'd be on the street for the rest of my life. No, the key wasn't just getting more money...

I stood, fighting back a yawn. "What time is it? I couldn't get Epic to even let me see in his room. I don't know if he's hungry or needs anything."

She frowned. "It's past suppertime. I guess he's hungry by now, but I'll see." I watched as she walked over and knocked on his door. "Hey, Picky. I'm back, but Pop's in the hospital. He's sick. He needs us to take care of ourselves until he gets out in a couple of days. You okay in there?"

Epic mumbled something I couldn't comprehend. Saga opened the door, shaking her head, and went inside. I felt even more of an outsider now, not understanding what about their rituals made me so alien to him or if it really was that he didn't like being around those not of his blood? He was a lot of the reason I feared I could never truly be part of the family.

Saga emerged moments later. "Would you like to stay for supper? I can do some spinach tortellini."

"That sounds nice," I admitted, just realising how many meals I had skipped in the last two days.

"I don't know if Epic will come out, though. He's still weird now."

"Is it me?"

"I don't know. He won't tell me. I wish Mum were still here, she'd know what to say to him."

I couldn't have agreed more. "Well, we might as well make the most of it."

"How do you mean?"

"I mean look at all the quality time we get to spend together now."

She gave me a look as though I had to be kidding.

"Really, if you ever need a hand, I'll be here. Now, for instance—I'll keep you company until your pop gets better, so it's not just you going crazy with Epic."

I suppose she tried to laugh, but I imagined it to be a task mustering the effort. "I guess it IS good to have someone who sort of gets what I'm talking about."

"What do you mean, 'sort of'?" I put my hands on my hips. "I'm not THAT much of an old fogey, am I?"

"Aagh, I was teasing you!" she cried, playfully slapping my arm. "Fine, I appreciate the FEMALE company."

"Oh, I get it," I said, rolling my eyes, "you're just brown-nosing 'cause you want to get in the exclusive club of Cool Girls?"

"Pfff," she snorted, heading downstairs. I smirked and followed suit.

"We're not so different, really," I added. "Do you remember, exactly eight years ago today, that pretty butterfly we saw on the lilies your mother planted?"

"Yeah," she agreed, reflecting as she pulled the tortellini out of the freezer. "That was a monarch, unusual for this time of year. There were four, weren't there?"

"All white."

"They looked kind of grey to me, actually."

"Well, your folks told me you might be a bit colourblind. Most flowers aren't grey."

"I guess I wouldn't know it." She leaned over to pull a large pot out of the cupboard. "There aren't many women with colourblindness, are there?"

"That just makes you all the more special."

"Special..." The look in her eyes wasn't that of appreciation. "Why doesn't it feel that way?"

"C'mon, you have a lot of traits that make you a worthwhile person. I bet a lot of people really like you but they're just too shy or quiet or whatever to just come out and say it."

She filled the pot with water and put it on the range. "...I don't think so."

"Why not?"

"I mean, okay, a few guys have asked me out, but as soon as they get to know me, they get weirded out and never talk to me again."

I had to admit I didn't have much experience with that, so it was hard to say what the problem was. "Why would they get weirded out?"

"I dunno... Like, they learn how I have a twin who's almost my exact opposite. I'm a girl, he's a boy. I'm lean, he tends toward heavy, even though we have the same diet. I have flat hair, his is curly. I'm lefty, he's righty. I'm TRYING to be a social climber, he wants to hole up in his room..."

"Who your brother is shouldn't reflect badly on you. I am me—my family is not who I am. Same for you."

"But why does he have to be THIS different?"

"Well, parents give half of their genes to each child, but it's not the same half each time. One child could be behaved and kind-hearted, and the other could be despicable and cruel. It's up to chance. We're at a point now, scientifically, where we can stack those odds one way or another, but there are all kinds of problems that could result from basically making designer clones that it's better to just accept what we're given and try to make the most of it."

"Do you ever wonder about your parents?"

I frowned. "Sometimes, but work keeps me busy. Sometimes I'm too busy to think about anything but work."

Saga turned on the gas, thinking for a moment. "You know, for all I complain about Dad, I don't know if I could deal with not having known him. Mum, too—I'll always wish she could be here for my wedding, to see my kids grow up... That's a part of me that's gone forever. How can you stand not knowing a whole part of yourself like that?"

"I guess I've just gotten so used to having what I have that I didn't worry about what I didn't."

"You should look for them, even if it means taking a long vacation. I can't fathom not wanting to know."

I wasn't sure if she meant it as a prod to do something positive or to get my nose out of their lives again. "You don't want me around or something?" I teased.

"No! I mean, not like that! It just feels like something you should do, if only so you can bring them back here to meet us."

I grinned. "Even Epic?"

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, even him – I guess."

"Aight, maybe I will." It felt good to finally be bonding again on this kind of level. Hopefully it would get her spirits up to help her through her father's illness and keep her from feeling like everything was on her shoulders. "Say, would you like to see another concert—my choice this time?"

"Mmm – who?"

"Guy named Status. He's a local DJ. I think you'll dig his stuff."

She looked – if I had to venture a guess, guilty. "I dunno, maybe. Got a demo of his setlist?"

I pulled out a disc from my pocket. "Give it a listen."

"Fine, maybe later."

It felt disheartening to be shot down like this. Surely she liked someone besides...? "I'm just throwing out suggestions here. If you have any ideas—"

"I can't really afford to go play, Anna! Look at what going to Wolf Trap got me—both of us, even!"

"...how do you mean?"

"Your co-worker and my pop! Wouldn't their both getting hospitalised have been prevented if we hadn't gone?"

Oh, for— "That was LIFE happening, Saga! I'm pretty sure your pop didn't catch Hep-B just from chasing after you last night!"

"And your co-worker?"

I fought back the truth. "Bad timing. It was my fault, yes, but not OUR fault. Stop trying to take the blame for things you couldn't control!" ...that's MY job.

"But – it sucks that we're going to fall apart if I don't help out!"

"Help out, yes. Be the sole support system, no. You've got me, right?"

"No offense, but – you're not really part of the family. You saw for yourself—Epic doesn't want to be around you, especially not you alone."

I felt a part of myself die inside. So she was going to keep up the wall because she thought it was inevitable, because she thought there was no hope of continuing to try to rehabilitate her brother. Supper was unusually cold, despite the temperature of the pasta, and I left with a gloomier outlook than I'd felt in years.

I couldn't let the situation simmer anymore. Sunrise was my next stop.

I dragged myself back to my apartment to clean up and get my prescribed bedrest. First thing in the morning, I drove down to Rockville and hit the seniors' centre, not exactly knowing what to expect but hoping for the best. It had been as long since I'd been here, and I was worried that I was forgotten.

The receptionist greeted me with a smile, which I returned with gratitude. "Good morning! How can I help you today?"

"I'm here to see Ms. Fields."

"Oh, that will be excellent," he said, beaming. "She's the sunshine in our lives! She's getting along well with the residents and all of their guests, but – it's been so long since she's had any visitors of her own."

"Really?" That made me even angrier at Mr. Rockford. "Not even her family?"

He looked confused. "She told me she didn't have any relatives."

"Not by blood or marriage, no."

"...I'm sorry."

Was this just me opening up every can of worms I could possibly find? "It's okay, I wasn't talking about me – specifically. I meant her adopted family hasn't even come by?"

"Oh, dear. I had gotten the idea there was something that was troubling her, but I was too polite to go nosing in where it wasn't my business."

"Well, that won't stop me. I want to speak with her. About them."

He glanced about, then leaned over and lowered his voice. "Please do. I haven't been able to abide by that feeling she's been abandoned here."

In a time when we needed each other more and more, why were we pushing each other away? "If I had known, this would never have happened."

"Bless you, dear." He checked the manifest before putting up his on break sign. "I'll take you to her myself."

"Thank you."

The building was much larger than I remembered. I examined the structure closely and noticed where extensions were added, walls taken down to open up space. It felt much roomier at the same time it felt cooler. There was something about it that seemed – corporate instead of homey. The receptionist led me to the lift, and we stopped on the third floor. "The physical therapy room is over this way. She still has a ways to go before she can move around without assistance again, if at all."

"Thank you again."

He bowed out of courtesy, holding the door open for me. "Visitors are the heart of our community. Thank YOU."

He meant it as a compliment, but it made me feel like a complete heel. Still, I put a happy face for now as I entered the room. "Hello?" I asked. "I'm here to see—"

"Hello, Anna!" greeted Nan, recognising me immediately and waving from where she was on the rails, to her trainer's concern. "Oh, my goodness, let me see you. —I'm fine, Pell, I can make it on my own! Dear me, Anna, I haven't seen you since you were still in school!"

I smiled at her as I crossed the room to give her a hug. It was difficult not to smile back when she smiled, and I had getting too few of those as it was. "How have you been holding up, Nan?"

"Oh, it's been tough since I busted my leg," she explained, patting her knee. "It never really healed correctly, so I can't walk without help – but I'm a tough ol' bird! Only seems fair."

"Is it?" I dared to commit the rudeness of mentioning her age, albeit in hushed tones. "It doesn't seem like you're old enough to be in assisted living."

"Oh, I don't mind," she assured me. "It's much easier for me to get around here than at my kids' house, and I find it amusing being the 'baby' around these parts. Only just spotted five years ago, can you believe it?"

"About that—" I started, feeling guilty about bringing it up, "...when was the last time you visited the twins?"

"My grandbabies?" Nan lit up at the thought of them, then looked downtrodden. "Oh, not this year..."

"Last year?" I started to feel worse, instilling the idea that she had been truly abandoned like an unwanted pet.

"Oh, it doesn't matter," she pouted. "How are YOU? My goodness, you look so grown-up now! You work for the government, if I recall correctly?"

I nodded. "Assistant bailiff. Not a big job, but I get my fair share of work—and pay to match."

"I'm so proud of you, sweetie! I knew you'd always amount to big things!"

Nan was living evidence against blood being thicker than water. In her presence, I felt my cares about relatives melting away. If she had been my real grandmother, I would have died happy long ago. "You've always been my favourite nan, Nan."

"Oh," she pshawed. "So, what brings you here, Anna? I guess that... Well, if my grandbabies were here, I would already see them, wouldn't I?"

My heart fell to see her disappointment. "You got me."

Nevertheless, she did her best to hide her feelings. "How are they, then? Is Saga doing well in school? Is Epic keeping his books organised?"

"Pop's in a mess," I admitted, cutting to the chase. "Yesterday, Saga had to call an ambulance to take him to the hospital. He has Hepatitis-B. He should still be able to function, but it has her pretty shaken about how they're going to get along now."

Nan was quiet. Her face lost all expression, and she simply stared at me for an uncomfortably long time before speaking again. "Let's go."

"What?"

She hobbled over to fetch her cane and hat. "I'm going to see our family, Anna."

I absolutely glowed in that moment, despite my astonishment. That one word gave me a warm feeling I hadn't felt in forever. "Wait, what about your things?"

She smiled at me. "I don't need things. I mean, I'll come back for my clothes, but everything I value is at the house."

I smiled back, delighted. At least one thing was going correctly.

It felt odd giving Nan a ride on my chopper, but she seemed just as excited to ride as Saga had, which raised my spirits—she WAS a tough ol' bird. I imagined that others might have given us odd looks to see an elderly lady riding side-saddle with me, but I didn't care. Things were starting to turn around, and I'd be damned if I let the stares of random strangers get to me.

Saga heard us coming, but she seemed overwhelmed to see her nan hobbling up the walk to meet her. "My granddaughter!" Nan cried, giving her a big hug.

"Nan!" Saga was gobsmacked. "What are you doing here?"

"Anna told me everything. How could you leave me in a home while you three are struggling without me?"

She didn't have any words. It was as though her brain was struggling to process everything that was going on. "Oh, Nan," she cried, sobbing into her shoulder.

"There, there. I'm here now, everything will be okay."

"I just... It's been so hard getting along!"

"Shh... I know."

I stepped away from the heartwarming scene for a moment to update Rush on my whereabouts and activities. He seemed pleased at my progress on both fronts, even when I let him know that Fender had been doing research on Rothe's time. "You have a good heart," he noted. "I had to admit I was always concerned about your foster family. Don't worry about the missed work."

"If you say so, sir," I replied, guilty anyway about not pulling my share. "There's still a lot of ground to cover."

"Fender will brief you on her findings when you're back in the office tomorrow. Take care of your family for now."

I sighed, still feeling like there was something bad lurking around the corner. "Will do, sir."

"Anna!"

I looked up. Nan and Saga were waving at me from the house. "We just got a call from the hospital," Saga shouted. "They've cleared Pop for release!"

"Want me to go pick him up?" I offered.

"Would you?"

"I'd be delighted!"

Time whisked by when things were going my way. Before I knew it, Mr. Rockford was back at the house, a little dazed by so many unexpected surprises—I knew the feeling. "Nan," he murmured, astonished to see her there.

"Oh, kitten, look at you." Nan gave him a warm embrace and mussed his hair for all it would muss. "Poor thing, you'd just fall apart without me, wouldn't you?"

I couldn't tell if what he was feeling was elation or disappointment. "What are you doing here, Nan?"

"What do you mean? You're sick! I had to come see all of you! Who's going to take care of my grandbabies?"

"That's my job! I'm taking care of the kids just fine!"

"Parenting is not YOUR job," Nan shrieked, "not when the children suffer for it! No one can do everything alone, and your foolish pride in being a single parent and not asking for help is hurting them!" I'd never seen her this angry before, and it was enough to make me fill my pants even though I wasn't the target.

"I just—"

She put her hands on her hips and glared down at him, which was an impressive act now that she was shorter than he was. "Give me one reason the kids don't deserve another person helping out around the house!"

Mr. Rockford stammered at this. "I... Who?"

Nan held out her arms as though it was quite obvious and she was expressing her disbelief that he didn't think of her sooner.

"But you said yourself that you liked the assisted care centre!"

"Of course I do, kitten." She sighed like a disappointed parent catching her child with his hand in the candy jar. "The people are wonderful there, and it's easier for me to get around with my disabilities. However, I'm not so incompetent that I have no choice but to live there!"

He looked downcast, deeply sorry for having inadvertently pushed away the kids' grandmother figure for so long. "I just thought... You seemed so much happier there, and we were getting along okay, ya know?"

"Why would I be happier anywhere else when my grandbabies need me?"

The two of them melted into tears, hugging as though reuniting after having been separated for a thousand years. It made me feel happy – yet sad, because I was still the outsider.

At lengths, they withdrew, and Nan wiped her eyes in delight. "We have to take the kids to the centre," she insisted.

"Where are you going to stay?" Mr. Rockford asked in the same instant, then raising a hand to concede. "After you."

Nan had what I could only describe as a mischievous grin. "I need the kids at the centre. This is very important for them – if Epic's willing."

"Nan."

The last was Epic, having emerged from his room at last. I was startled to see just how much he'd grown, towering at least a head over me. He looked even more like his mother than I'd remembered and even had the same length and curl of hair as hers had been, but his hair was a fiery red that outshone her dulling brown.

"Eppie!" she cried, hobbling over to him. The boy lifted her up, hugging tightly. "Oh, Eppie, you're getting stronger!"

"Miss Nan."

"Of course you did, sweetie."

"Nan don't go again."

"Oh, of course not..."

I glanced at Mr. Rockford. He looked even lower than before, and I couldn't help feeling sorry for him. It was astonishing just how much trouble it caused by simply not being on the same page or doing what felt like the best thing to do without consulting anyone else first. At the same time, now that she was back, it started to feel like home again.

"Come on, kids! We have to get my things from the centre—and while we're there, there's someone you HAVE to meet!"

Nan's smile was beaming, until she glanced my way. I'm not sure if she could read my feelings or not, that my awkwardness at being part of yet not part of their happy little home was becoming more evident, but she seemed attuned to the possibility.

"I'd love it if you could join us, Anna."

"Are you sure?" I asked, not wanting to intrude. "I mean, if it's a family thing—"

"You're as much family as I am," she demanded. "I won't hear of you being this involved in our lives only to be pushed out just when things are getting better!"

It still felt awkward, but at least it wasn't my fault if it was. "Thank you."

"Hold up," Mr. Rockford interrupted. "Before we start shuttling things back and forth, where are you going to stay, Nan?"

"There are four bedrooms here, aren't there?"

"Well, the fourth is Anna's old room. Is it okay with you if Nan stays there now?"

I nodded. "I appreciate the sentiment of keeping a place here for me, but I have my own place now. You need it more than I do."

"Then it's settled," Nan cheered, clapping her hands. "Now, let's—"

"Nan, I think YOU should get settled!" I interrupted. "It's getting late, and we've all had a lot of excitement for one day! Pop needs to get some rest."

She looked like a young child who was told she couldn't open her presents just yet. "Oh... Fine, then. It will have to wait until after my fabulous Quiche Lorraine!"

"Um, Nan," Saga pointed out, "we've been vegetarian the last couple of years. For budget reasons."

"Hmph!" she pouted. "See what happens when Nan's gone? My poor babies, are you getting enough protein? Now I'm going to have to buy you a big ol' turkey for tomorrow's supper!"

"Nan!"

They fussed over supper for a while, much to my amusement. Pop finally coaxed Nan into letting he and Saga show off their culinary skills while I talked with her on the deck.

"Oh, this is all so exciting, isn't it?"

I had to agree. "It's been so long since we were a family, I'd almost forgotten what it was like."

"Oh, you did NOT," she snapped.

"It felt like it sometimes," I muttered.

Nan looked around the yard. "I picked out the place," she commented. "I don't know if the kids ever told you."

"Mrs. Rockford mentioned it once."

"It seems like such a lack of foresight, in retrospect. A three-story house is great for young people with lots of energy, but it's bad for old birds like me."

"It's not a terrible place," I noted, out of defence of the only family house I'd known. "Lots of families have them, especially ones with lots of kids."

"...I guess. But having the master bedroom upstairs feels like bad design. Kids have energy to climb stairs. I suppose I do, too, but it never felt so – daunting, before now."

I shrugged, not sure what to tell her. "Most people expect to live forever but somehow not get old. You could always live in the basement, too, if you don't mind the cold in the winter—it's practically a whole other house as it is."

"Oh, I couldn't do that. I have to have a big kitchen."

I shrugged. "I guess I can't fault you there."

She hobbled over to the big old tree in the backyard. "...and this is..." With all the reminiscing of late, Nan seemed hesitant to say any more than that. Was there a special significance to the tree?

"Why didn't you want to let the kids have a treehouse back here?" I ventured, figuring it was an innocent-enough question. "I know they would have liked it."

She gave a weak smile. "Money, for one thing. Always tight, it seemed. Trouble was having to hire someone, since neither of the Mr. Rockfords were carpenters. My father might've, but he died in the last civil war back in my homeland."

"I remember. I'm sorry."

"Oh, don't be. It's not like you caused him to die then, is it?" Her smile turned to a silly scowl that nevertheless felt threatening. "—unless you're the resurrection of his killer!"

I blanched. "Uh, not that I'm aware of, Nan."

She beamed again. "Good, then I have no quarrel with you."

It occurred to me that money wasn't the only reason, since they had made several purchases over the years that could have gone toward paying a carpenter instead. Mostly I remembered Mrs. Rockford and how she would look sad when the twins would play in the yard. "Something happened here, didn't it?"

Nan only looked at me with a raised eyebrow. "Of course it did. Our little family grew up here."

"No, I mean..." I could tell there was something being kept unsaid, some skeleton in the closet that I wasn't allowed to see, but I wasn't sure if I could abide by it being kept there. "You know, I've seen and heard so many bad things in my life that there isn't much left to surprise me. These days, what would have been considered a dark family secret five hundred years ago isn't so tragic by our modern standards."

"A man died here."

I nearly fell over from her unexpected confession. "What? WHO??"

"It's okay," she said, grinning. "He got better."

I didn't have any idea whether she was telling the truth. Maybe that was the idea. "Okay, you got me," I surrendered, throwing up my hands. "I won't ask."

"It's not that I want to keep secrets from you, Anna," she commented. "It's that they aren't mine to tell."

Fine. It was better than another non-answer, anyway. "That's fair, I suppose. I guess I wouldn't want others airing MY dirty laundry for me."

I walked over to the tree anyway. Its leaves were full in the summer air and rustled gently in the evening breeze. I had guessed it to be a variant of poplar, but that was most likely a red herring. Whatever was significant about it was just a memory at this point, known only to whoever Nan was protecting.

Presently, Pop and Saga joined us on the deck, bearing supper plates for each of us. "Ta-da," they announced, "vegetable lasagne!"

"Ooo," Nan cooed, scooping up her plate. "It smells wonderful!"

"Epic isn't going to join us?" I asked.

Saga shook her head, crinkling her nose. "It's too germy outside. 'Wind is wind.' I can't believe we ever got him to come outside before, the way he acts now."

It concerned me that Epic had put himself under house arrest, but in getting Nan back, I put myself even farther out of the position of authority. It bothered me for reasons I couldn't fathom—I couldn't understand why my biological instincts kicked in at odd times.

"So, Saga," Nan prompted between bites, "tell me everything you've been up to these days. How's school?"

She poked at her food. "Eh."

"Eh? What kind of answer is that?"

"It's just – school, you know? I go there, I learn a few more things, I get dumped by ANOTHER guy, I come home."

"Dumped?" I interrupted. "Who by?"

"It's not really your business, Anna," she scolded. "Doesn't matter, anyway."

"I'm just curious. I mean, you seemed offended when I suggested nice guys you could date."

"Pssh," she scoffed. After a pause, however, she let out a big sigh. "Last one was Zachary Simpson."

"HIM?" I nearly dropped my plate in astonishment.

"Ugh! This is why I don't want to tell you things!"

"Wait, who?" Mr. Rockford asked, raising his eyebrows.

I put my plate on the deck so I wouldn't drop it again. "This Simpson boy was in the juvy hall in Potomac recently for getting into fights. Saga, why are you hanging around such bad influences?"

Nan started to say something but Saga started fuming. "I told you you didn't get it!"

"What's to get? What do you see in people like Simpson and Vi—"

"What do YOU know about love?" she cried, whirling on me. "YOU'VE never dated before, have you?"

"Saga, ENOUGH," Nan snapped, looking as though she was about to break out a switch. "Anna is just concerned—aren't you?"

I gathered my strength to fight back my original impulse. "Saga, we just want you to understand the risks here. Do you really know what – being involved with a guy like that entails?"

"You don't understand the pressure I'm under!"

"Maybe, maybe not. Care to explain it to us so maybe we can?"

She scrunched her face up in the pout of someone who was not getting something that everyone else had. "I'm the only one at school who isn't attached. THE ONLY ONE. I'm absolutely not exaggerating! Name anyone at all—I'll tell you exactly who they're going with!"

As tempted as I was to play that game, I cut to the chase. "What, exactly, does not being with someone have to do with your value as a person? No one is born with the perfect companion already picked out for you. Besides, you are more than just someone else's other half."

"But it sucks being a virgin."

"It does not. I'm one." Mr. Rockford echoed my words as I said them. Then Saga echoed my next ones. "WHAT?"

"I didn't know how to tell you before," he said, looking more embarrassed than I had ever thought would be possible. "Your mother wanted to be the one to explain everything, but it made her so unhappy—" He looked away, towards the poplar in the backyard. "I guess neither of us got around to telling you."

Saga looked betrayed, justifiably. "But – you and Mum... Isn't there some kind of law about that?"

He shrugged in defeat. "I just – couldn't. Might as well ask a deaf person to recite the words off an audio recording. It's not like anyone was going to question us, anyway, when the two of you came along shortly afterwards as it was."

She fought to find words, as did I. It was a lot to process from out of the middle of nowhere. "So – who's our real father? Where is he?"

Mr. Rockford just kept staring. "It doesn't matter. Died well before you were born."

So Saga was an orphan now, too. One more thing we had in common, though I wished we didn't.

"Then that's why..." She followed his eyes to the backyard. "Is he out there? Is that why Mum was always sad?"

He nodded. Wait—that meant Nan was telling the truth? "He died HERE?"

Mr. Rockford raised an eyebrow, glancing back at me. "I don't know about THAT. It was when I wasn't here. I couldn't help either of them. That's why I thought it better had your Mum been able to answer all your questions—there's only so much I can tell you."

"I know a few answers," Nan offered, "and so does a friend of mine."

All the three of us could do was stare at her, curious about what she could possibly have in mind. We couldn't find out until the next day, when she dragged all four of us—even Epic, with some effort—back to Sunrise to meet a tiny little silver-haired woman with twinkling blue eyes and an astonished look on her face.

"Epic, Saga," she introduced, "this is Miss Marian Waters—your grandmother."