“You really love him.”
“Yes, I love him.”
Wishing she could find a way to grant her sister the happiness she felt herself, Libby rested a cheek on Sunny’s hair. “Cal says J.T.’s planning to do some more work on the equations for the time travel. To hone it down, to make it safer, and more practical, if that word can apply.”
“Yes, he told me.”
“He’s brilliant, Sunny. Really brilliant. It’s not just Cal’s bragging. I read the rest of his file. And the fact that he was able to make this trip after only two years of work is proof of it. Once he finishes his testing, he’ll come back.”
“I hope he can.” She closed her eyes. “I really hope he can.” Then, with a laugh, she buried her face in her hands. “Listen to us. We’re here talking about all of this as if it were the most natural thing in the world. I must still be in shock.”
“After more than a year, I still wake up some mornings wondering if I imagined it all.”
“But you have Cal,” Sunny murmured, letting her hands fall into her lap. “He’s right there to prove it’s real.”
“Sunny, if I—” She broke off when Cal walked into the room. She lifted her shoulders, let them fall. “Is there anything I can do?”
“No. I’m handling it, I promise you that.”
“I’m going to get some fresh air,” Libby announced. “Cal, take care of the tea, will you?”
A look passed between them. “Sure.”
Sunny knew them both well enough to understand that they’d planned this little bit of business so that Cal could speak to her alone.
“What do you want?” he asked when Libby had shut the door behind her. “Froot Loops or burnt toast?”
“J.T. fixed the toaster.”
“Oh yeah?” He gave it a casual glance. “He’s always liked to fiddle with things.” The kettle began to boil, giving him another moment to think through what he wanted to say. “Sunny... I think we’ll get snow before nightfall.”
“Cal, why don’t you relax? As tempting as it was, I didn’t murder him.”
“I wasn’t worried about that.” He poured hot water into two cups. “Not too much, anyway. It’s more a matter of wanting to explain.”
“That your brother’s a jerk? I know that.”
“He’s also sensitive.”
She could still be amused. That was a relief. “Are we talking about the same man? Hornblower, Jacob? Astrophysicist? The one with the bull head and the nasty temper?”
An apt description, he thought. “Yeah. I don’t mean like he cries at vid—movies,” he remembered. “Or that he takes it to heart when you call him names. He’s sensitive where other people are concerned. Family.” Not certain he was handling the situation correctly, he brought the tea to the table. “Half the time when he’d get into fights it was because someone had said something about me. It used to annoy me, because I wanted to take care of it myself, but he’d always plow right in before I had the chance. And my parents... I can’t think of a single time he’d forget a birthday or Mother’s Day.”
“They still have Mother’s Day?”
“Sure.”
“Cal.” Absently she stirred sugar into her tea. “How did you decide to stay?”
“I didn’t decide,” he told her. “What I mean is, I don’t thinkdecideis the word. It implies choice. I couldn’t leave Libby. I tried. But I’ve never stopped thinking about my family.”
“Whether you consider you had a choice or not, it had to be difficult.”
“For me it was pretty cut-and-dried. I couldn’t even be sure if I’d make it back. I sent the ship and the reports because if there was a chance I could let them know I was alive, safe, I had to.” He laid a hand over hers. “With J.T., it’s different. He knows he can make it back, and if he didn’t go he’d be leaving them without hope. He couldn’t do that.”
“No, he couldn’t do that.” She lifted her head. “It’s been hard for you.”
“This has been the best year of my life.”