Finding Casey (10 page)

Juniper took no more than a tablespoon. “Root vegetables are really high in carbs,” she said.

“Oh, come on,” Halle said. “The whole point of holidays is to indulge.” She set the champagne bottle down after she'd filled all their glasses, hers to the brim. “Come on, everyone. Let's toast.”

“I can't,” Juniper said flatly. “I'm too young to be trusted, apparently.”

Ave laughed. “Watch it, sweetie. That remark might just backfire on you. Gopher, you decide what we should toast to.”

“Topher,” he said, laughing a little less this time.

Ave laughed again. “I'm just yanking your chain, Chris. With age come certain privileges, and teasing younger people is at the top of the list. Sounds like your parents brought you up right, so what's the toast your folks usually say?”

He lifted his glass. “ ‘The Pilgrims made seven times more graves than huts. No Americans have been more impoverished than these who, nevertheless, set aside a day of thanksgiving.' H. U. Westermayer.”

“Topher's ancestors came over on the
Mayflower
,” Juniper said.

“Imagine that,” Ave said.

Joseph cleared his throat. “ ‘Give thanks for unknown blessings already on their way.' My grandmother Penny Manygoats always said that.”

“Many ghosts?” Topher said.

“Goats,” Joseph said, “as in farm animals.”

Just then, a creaking-groaning noise that seemed to come
from the rafters cut the silence that had followed Joseph's words. Glory, Joseph, and Juniper said in unison, “Dolores, everyone's waiting for you. Go toward the light.”

It wasn't only Ave who looked perplexed. Topher looked downright frightened. Halle seemed to be more concerned with refilling her glass.

“Oh,” Juniper said. “I forgot to tell you that our house has a ghost. I named her Dolores.”

“Did someone get murdered here or what?” Topher asked.

Glory laughed. “She came with the house. Santa Fe is filled with ghost stories, right, Joseph?” She looked at her husband's expression and knew he hadn't heard her. He was still digesting Topher's salutation. “Let's toast to Dolores, too,” she said, “in hopes that one day she'll find her way home. Isn't it great to have so many traditions to choose from? Mom, will you lead us in saying grace?”

“I sure will. I'm going to say the long version for the ghost.” Ave launched into the Lord's Prayer, which in Ave's version had tangents for the loved ones she'd lost in her life. She finished up with, “Lord, bless us with a new president, one who can hold to a budget, and bless the baby girl my daughter is about to bring into this world. Amen.”

The baby kicked Glory hard under her ribs, as if she too had something she wanted to say. “Amen,” Glory said when they were done, and everyone touched glasses, the sound of crystal ringing through the room. Every holiday Glory tried to be thankful for the bounty of her life. She smiled at Juniper, seated across the table from her boyfriend. She was relieved her mother had warmed to Topher so quickly. She hoped it made up for Joseph's chilly reception. Halle looked reasonably happy without
Bart, though she'd refilled her glass twice already. Juniper smiled at Topher and blushed, and Glory could tell that under the table, they were playing footsie.

It was time to remind Juniper of the birth-control talk.

That night, after Grandma Ave was settled in the guest room next door to hers and her mom, dad, and Aunt Halle were in the kitchen cleaning up the pile of dishes and pots and pans, Juniper walked Topher out to the casita, where he'd be sleeping. She took Dodge along with her. “Why are you bringing the dog?” Topher asked. “Scared to be alone with me?”

She laughed, but realized he wasn't far from the truth. “Dodge is kind of slipping in his training. I thought it would help to work with him while I'm home since my mom is too pregnant.”

“Is it much farther? I'm freezing.”

“I offered you my dad's jacket.”

“And I said no for a good reason. Your dad hates me, or didn't you notice?”

Juniper didn't know how to answer. “We're almost there.” Daddy Joe
was
kind of zoomed in on Topher, and not in a good way. The champagne fiasco—why had she made a stink about it? She didn't even like the taste of wine, but somehow when Topher turned out to know all these random facts and all she knew was that it came in two colors, it hit her how immature she was. Sure, Topher was a couple years older than her, but they were in the same year of college. She was smart, her GPA proved that, but she wasn't “wise in the ways of the world.”

What if that was a problem that could cost her Topher?

As they made their way through the snow, Dodge picked up
a frozen tennis ball and nudged her leg. Finally she threw it back toward the house just to get rid of him. “Did you enjoy my dad's cooking?” she asked, squeezing Topher's hand.

“It was a thousand times better than commons food. Your mom is
so
pregnant. Isn't she worried about birth defects at her age?”

Juniper felt a wave of embarrassment flush her face. “Jeez, Topher. I told you, I'm adopted. She's still young enough to have a baby. And the tests came out perfect, so no worries. It's a girl.”

“Won't it be weird to have a sister in diapers?”

Juniper looked up at the night sky, filled with stars and planets and who knew what else beyond the human eye's capability. The intoxicating smell of wood smoke drifted from neighborhood chimneys. She'd never told him about Casey and didn't intend to. She unlocked the door to the casita and flipped on the light switch. “The way I look at it is it will be great to have a sister of any age.”

“Whoa,” Topher said. “This place is
sick
awesome.”

Juniper beamed. “My mom designed the whole thing. She hired one of my dad's cousins to do that diamond plaster on the walls, but I got to pick the color, so I chose orange. It's my favorite color.” Juniper pointed to the wall sconces and chandelier, all dark bronze fixtures with amber mica glass inserts and shades. “I picked those out, too. The woodstove came from Santa Fe Hearthstone. It's the Tudor model, and that's real soapstone quarried from the state of Virginia. I started it up this morning so the place would be all toasty for you. You'll need to add more wood before you go to sleep, but it'll keep you warm all night.”

Topher tossed his backpack on the floor and pulled off his
jacket and tie. He loosened his collar, kicked off his shoes, stretched his arms, and pulled Juniper along with him to the floor on the Persian rug. “I know what would keep me warmer. This would be the perfect place,” he said.

“Perfect place for what?”

“Taking things to the next level,” he said, unbuttoning the gray cashmere cardigan she wore over the dorky pleated wool skirt her grandmother had given her last Christmas. He cupped his hand around her bare shoulder, just inches from her breast.

When they had been dating a month, she'd allowed him to touch her breasts as long as he did it with a layer of clothes between them. They kissed a lot, but she'd stalled him on anything else, saying she wasn't on the pill and she didn't trust condoms. Of course at school there wasn't any way to have time alone, really private, to make things romantic. The stupid dorms didn't even allow candles. Topher had suitemates, too. The one thing he never had any of was money, like for a nice dinner out, or flowers, maybe, or a hotel room, and shouldn't the boy pay for that? They weren't in the dorm now. They were in a cozy, beautiful place that would be perfect to make love in, and what if he had been expecting this all along, misunderstanding her invitation?

He kissed her neck, right near the hollow of her throat, undoing her resolve like pulling a thread on a sweater. Until Topher, she hadn't known there were so many nerve endings there. She enjoyed the tingling sensation while mentally reviewing her anatomy and physiology:
There are four main types of nerve endings in the glabrous skin of humans: Pacinian corpuscles, Meissner's corpuscles, Merkel's discs, and what was the last one? Oh, yeah, Ruffini corpuscles
. She'd aced that course and nearly changed her major to premed. “You know,” she said when the kiss ended, “if
I stay out here longer than fifteen minutes, my dad will come knocking at the door.”

Topher snorted. “More like ten minutes. He was shooting daggers at me the whole time we were eating. Why? Doesn't he think I'm good enough for you?”

Juniper ran her fingers through Topher's hair. It was thick and dark, always wildly messy, but somehow that only added to his handsomeness. “He's just being protective. He probably doesn't think anyone is good enough for me. My grandmother liked you, though, and she never likes anyone.”

“She's a hoot. What's the matter with her?”

“It used to be just inflammatory arthritis. Now it's treatment-refractory systemic lupus erythematosus.”

“What the heck is that?”

“A much worse kind of arthritis that isn't responding to medicine. Sometimes she's really cranky, but not on purpose. It's because of the pain. Did you know that in stem-cell treatment, seven out of ten lupus patients had their pain levels drop seven to ten points?”

“Why would I know something so random as that?”

Juniper shrugged. “I don't know. I find it interesting.” She tried to think of something to say to make up for sounding like a geek. “Stem-cell therapy will dominate the medical field in the next ten years. Already they're using it in Europe.”

“That sounds amazing,” Topher said. “I like how your grandmother rags on your aunt. She doesn't hold back, does she?”

Juniper thought for a minute while she tried to decide if that was a compliment or an insult. “All I know is she made me feel welcome from the minute I met her. She gives me fifty dollars every birthday, even though she really can't afford it.”

Topher laughed. “Awesome! Coin is always welcome. What did you spend it on?”

“Nothing. I put it in the bank.”

He ran his hand lower down her arm until his fingers reached her wrist. More nerve endings. “That's what makes us so great together, Junie. You're practical and you plan ahead. Me, I live in the moment.” He leaned in close and kissed her again, gently prying her mouth open and poking his tongue into hers. After she'd gotten over the idea of his saliva in her mouth, it felt good, but she couldn't help wishing they'd had the chance to floss first.

“Hey,” he said. “I love you.”

“Me, too,” she said.

She let him kiss her again, but peeked at her watch. When they stopped kissing, he was out of breath, and she knew what that meant. “Well?” he said.

“You know what I'd really like? To hear the song you wrote about my tattoo.”

He sighed. “I can do that anytime. Here we are, alone together in this beautiful room, it's snowing, and so warm. Don't you want to take advantage of that?” His eyelashes were so dark and long it just wasn't fair wasting them on a guy.

“I do, honest. It's just that I'm scared—”

Topher ran his fingers up her leg. She was wearing new gray tights her mom had bought for her, and hoped he wouldn't snag them. He stopped about two inches above her knee, rubbing his thumb on the inside of her leg. More nerves she'd never paid attention to. “Scared of what? Come on, tell me. I've slept with virgins before.”

She wondered how many. “Topher, I've told you before, I'm not a virgin.”

He shut his eyes, smiled, and the fire crackled inside the woodstove. “Junie, you don't have to pretend with me. Trust me, I know how to be gentle.”

“I'd really like to hear the song. Or maybe I should just go back to the house and see you in the morning. Want to go to the movies tomorrow?” She knew he wouldn't be able to resist playing his guitar.

“Fine.” He sat up, unlatched the guitar case and unwrapped his twelve-string, tuned it, and began to play.

Juniper sat with her knees pulled close to her chest, eyes shut, listening to the voicings of the strings. Topher had explained to her that he tuned his twelve-string guitar harmonically, just like Roger McGuinn of the Byrds did. She'd Googled the term and the band and learned that McGuinn's guitar had influenced the Beatles, who her dad pretty much worshipped. To her it sounded as if each note was wearing a belly dancer's coin belt.

He sang, “On her throat there's a bright blue bird, right where I like to kiss her the most. Sometimes her heart is blue, so I kiss her there, too …”

Oh, my gosh, he really had written a song about her. She decided right then and there, she'd do what he wanted during this visit, make love, only just not tonight. Grandma Ave had always told her, Promise me, if you have a big decision to make, sleep on it first. She would, but she didn't think she'd change her mind. She loved Topher. He loved her. Making love was what grown-ups did, showed their feelings physically, because that was the tenderest part of love, right?

Then, wham, one of his guitar strings broke and smacked him in the cheek, leaving a huge welt. “Ow,” he said, stopping. “That really hurt.” He rubbed his face. “I don't get it. I changed these strings only four days ago. They're probably defective.”

Juniper knew better. This smelled like the work of Dolores. She visited at the strangest times, and while usually she just messed with the lights or made that groaning noise or knocked something off the table, she occasionally did do something this blatant. It seemed almost personal, and she wanted to laugh, but held it in.
Thanks, Dolores
, she sent into the ether.
You saved me
.

The magazine said Española was twenty-six miles up highway 285 from Santa Fe, the capital of the state. I'd never been there, not even once. Seth and Aspen and I had first arrived at the Farm at night. It was night now. I sat in the recliner the janitor had dragged in for me so I could stay by Aspen's bed. Not that we ever celebrated Thanksgiving at the Farm, but I felt lonely all the same. The doctor had left a pile of forms with me that I was supposed to sign. The top one was for a spinal tap, also known as a “cisternogram.” In the part of the page where it listed “adverse outcomes,” the print was tiny and went on for a page and a half. “Cisternogram” sounded to me like a weird kind of message. All I could think was the words inside weren't any help.
Cistern
meant a place for storing water. There was
star
, a word I loved for its sound and spelling, and I looked outside to see if I could spot any, but there were too many lights in the parking lot. A tern was a bird, like a gull, but with a much better sound to it, and
ern
meant the same thing, but I couldn't remember why there had to be two spellings.
Grit
was what I got in my teeth when the wind was blowing the way it did all summer.
Gem
was there, too, and
cat
and
tram
like there was in
Albuquerque, not that I'd ever been. But mostly the words that kept coming to me, and kept me from signing the forms, were
nor
,
not
, and
no.