“I beg your pardon.” He took a long and very hasty step back. “I thought you were Libby.”
“Are you in the habit of grabbing my daughter by the—”
“Dad.” Libby cut him off as she dumped the bags on the table. As beginnings went, she thought, this one was hardly auspicious. “This is Caleb Hornblower. He’s... staying with me for a while. Cal, these are my parents, William and Caroline Stone.”
Terrific. Since he didn’t think he could manage to have his molecules reappear in a different location, he figured he’d better face the music. “Nice to meet you.” He found that the best place for his hands was his pockets. “Libby looks a great deal like you.”
“So I’ve been told.” Caroline beamed another smile at him. “Though never quite in that way.” Wanting to let him off the hook, she offered him a hand. “Will, why don’t you put those bags down and say hello to Libby’s friend?”
He took his time about it. William wanted to size the man up. Good-looking enough, he supposed. Strong features, steady eyes. Time would tell. “Hornblower, is it?” William was pleased that Cal’s grip was cool and firm.
“Yes.” It was the first time he’d been weighed and measured so thoroughly since he’d enlisted in the ISF. “Should I apologize again?”
“Once was probably enough.” But William held his opinion on the rest in reserve.
“I was just about to make lunch.” She had to do something, Libby thought, to keep everyone busy until she’d worked out a solution.
“Good idea.” Caroline pulled fresh cauliflower out of a bag. She’d found the chips, and a jar of pickled hot sausages William had smuggled in. “But I’ll make it. Why don’t you give me a hand, William?”
“But I—”
“Brew some tea,” she suggested.
“I’d love some tea,” Libby said, knowing it was a sure way to her father’s heart. She took Cal by the hand. “We’ll be right back.” The moment they were in the living room, she turned on him. “What are we going to do?”
“About what?”
With a sound of disgust, Libby paced toward the fireplace. “I’ve got to tell them something, and it can hardly be that you’ve just dropped in from the twenty-third century.”
“No, I’d just as soon you didn’t.”
“But I never lie to them.” Torn, Libby poked a charred log with her toe. “I can’t.”
He walked over to cup her chin in his hand. “Leaving out a few small details isn’t lying.”
“Small details? Like the fact that you came visiting in a spaceship?”
“For one.”
She closed her eyes. It should be funny. Maybe it would be in five or ten years. “Hornblower, this situation would be awkward enough without the added bonus of you being from where—make thatwhen—you are.”
“What situation?”
She tried not to grind her teeth. “They’re my parents, this is their house, and you and I are—” She made a circling gesture with her hand.
“Lovers,” he supplied.
“Will you keep your voice down?”
Patient, he laid his hands on her shoulders, gently kneading. “Libby, they probably figured that out when I almost kissed your mother in the refrigerator.”
“About that—”
“I thought she was you.”
“I know. Still—”
“Libby, I realize it wasn’t the most traditional way to meet your parents, but I think that of the four of us I was the most surprised.”