Mom’s face sagged. Dad caught her hand with his and pasted on a smile of greeting. “You’re welcome here, Camarin. Any time.”
“Thank you, James.” Camarin squeezed my mother’s hand. “How are you, Daphne?”
“Well.” Mom tugged her hand free, but at least she hadn’t run away at the first opportunity. “We’re selling the house.”
“If there is anything I can do to ease the process, please let me know.”
Mom nodded and turned to Dad, staring at him as if her life depended on it.
“Do you have any luggage?” my father asked. “I could get it.”
“No, sir. I shall fetch it soon. Perhaps I may go up to my room?” Without waiting for a response, she ascended the back stairs.
As we watched her go, I felt a pang of guilt. How could I have overlooked my parents’ reaction to her? Mine hadn’t been good, and I knew her true mission in Sean’s life.
Maybe I’d been too hasty with my invitation to Camarin, but it was too late. I wouldn’t take it back.
TO: Counselor
FROM: Grant
DATE: 15 July
My new project has me laboring alongside Camarin Paxton. I have never functioned in this capacity before.
Do you have advice for how I should politely disagree when we are together? I have only ever disagreed with other Beings through letters. Speaking my objections aloud will doubtless require a distinctly different set of skills.
27
Typical Warp Speed
I made it to the garage by seven and waited alone until Camarin walked in. I gave her a curt nod of acknowledgment before staring out the window.
“Hello,” she said.
I glanced back at her and found her studying my jeans, T-shirt, and sneakers. She frowned at her own pale yellow cargo pants, tailored blouse, and heeled boots. “My outfit is quite sturdy, I assure you.”
I bit back an impatient retort. It was time to lose my attitude. She’d come here to help, and I was grateful for that. I would just have to do a better job of relaxing around her. “You’re fine.”
Camarin inclined her head before gesturing at the door to the fitness room. “I’m surprised at Grant’s lack of punctuality.”
“I’m not. He suffers from insomnia.”
Her impatience changed to dismay. “How peculiar.”
“Why?”
“It is uncommon for Beings to experience health issues. Our diet is designed to prevent them.”
Her words seemed to have drawn him from the room because the door creaked open and Grant stepped out, a white T-shirt molded to his rather spectacular chest and biceps.
Did Beings think about hotness? If they did, were their criteria the same as humans? I glanced at Camarin, but her expression was more troubled than admiring.
He did a poor job of hiding his yawn. “Good morning, ladies.”
After helping us into our seats, he climbed into the back. We were on the highway before anyone broke the silence.
Camarin twisted to face him. “Did you sleep well?”
