"Happy now?"

"Happiness is relative. Less aesthetically offended is more like it."

Tom grabbed an empty cup, filled it, and took a long sip. No milk, no sugar.

He held up the cup. "Damn good coffee." He winked. "Give me a reference."

Jack did not want to reference that or anything else, didn't want to get started with games. But he couldn't resist.

"If you'd just toasted me with the cup and given a grin, I'd say Winston Wolf in Pulp Fiction. But the 'damn' means you're probably thinking of Agent Cooper in Twin Peaks."

"Excellent! I'm impressed. Now how about—?"

Jack was about to cut him off when the intercom buzzer beat him to it.

Baffled as to who'd be buzzing him at this hour on a Sunday—or at any hour on any day, for that matter—Jack stepped to the wall box and pressed the button.

"Yeah?"

"Hi, Jack." Gia's voice. "Buzz us in. We've got a surprise for you."

Jack was momentarily baffled. Gia had a key. Then he realized that because he had company she didn't want to barge in unannounced.

He said, "Urn, okay, sure," and hit the unlock button.

A surprise?

"Gia?" Tom looked panicked. "I've got to clean up!"

2

"Well?" Gia said, waving a hand over the laden round oak table. "What do you think?"

She wore jeans and a loose, light blue top that heightened the color of her eyes.

She and Vicky had brought bagels and cream cheese, two quiches—one bacon and shallots, the other zucchini and onion—plus a coffee ring, and even the Sunday Times.

Jack forced a smile. "Looks super, but you shouldn't have."

No lie. Gia's intentions were the best, but she really shouldn't have. This was only going to delay finding Tom a room. But then, Gia didn't know Jack was hunting a place for Tom to stay.

"I picked out the coffee cake," Vicky said. She wore denim coveralls and had her hair pulled back into her signature French braid. "It's got sugar-coated pecans on it."

She picked one off and popped it into her mouth.

"It won't have anything on it if you keep that up," Gia said.

Vicky grinned. "I love sugar-coated pecans."

Tom stepped out of the TV room just then, shaved, showered, wearing slacks and a loose shirt that partially obscured his gut. He crossed the room with outstretched arms. Add a silk dressing gown and he'd be ready for a full-fledged Noel Coward vamp.

"Gia!" he said, making a beeline for her. "What a wonderful surprise! Please excuse my appearance, but I've spent the last week at sea."

She accepted a hug, then said, "You remember Vicky."

"Of course." Tom shook her hand. "A pleasure to see you again, Miss Vicky."

"Hello, Mister—"

"Oh. Don't call me 'mister.' I suppose you could call me Almost-Uncle Tom, but I'm not crazy about the sound of that." He grinned and winked at Gia. "So why don't you just call me Tom."

Vicky stared at him as if he was speaking Swahili.

"Vicky and I figured you wouldn't have any food in the house."

Tom patted Vicky on the head. "Isn't that sweet!"

Vicky said, "I picked out the coffee cake, even though I'm not allowed to drink coffee."

Tom bent toward her and spoke in a gooey voice. "Isn't that wonderful of you!"

Jack repressed a gag.

Gia said, "I never got around to asking last night: How did Jack and Tom's Big Adventure go?"

Tom let loose a deep ha-ha-ha! "Are you a movie buff too?"

"Only by osmosis." She hooked an arm around Jack's waist and leaned against him. "Can't hang around with your brother too long without picking up something."

Tom said, "Well, speaking of something, that's just what we found. We're just not sure what that something is."

"Really?" Gia's brow furrowed as she glanced at Jack. "Animal, vegetable, or mineral?"

Tom laughed. "We don't know!"

"Can I see it?"

A buzz of alarm surged through Jack.

"That may not be such a good idea."

Gia looked at him. "Why not?"

What was he going to say? He had no rational explanation.

"Because of what Tom said: We don't know what it is."

"Oh, come on," Tom said with a patronizing laugh. "It's a basketball-sized lump that's been underwater for four hundred years. How harmful could it possibly be?"

Jack wished he had an answer.

Tom waved everyone toward the TV room. "Come on, let's have a look," he said, then led the way.

Jack reluctantly followed, bringing up the rear behind Gia and Vicky. Tom seemed to have taken over.

In the TV room Tom lifted the chest off the floor and onto the bed. He opened the lid and made a grandiose gesture.

"Voila!"

Gia and Vicky were suitably unimpressed.

"Can I ask a question?" Gia said.

Tom grinned. "But of course, my dear."

"Why would you bother to bring this home? It looks like some ugly, oversized melon."

"It does, indeed, but I want to find out what it is. The quest for knowledge—what human urge is more noble?"

How about the urge to retch? Jack thought.

"Look, Mom!" Vicky was laughing and pointing at the dimple in the Lilitongue's surface. "It's got a belly button!"

"What a marvelous observation!" Tom said. "You really have an eye for detail!"

Gia said, "So now that you have it, what do you do with it?"

Jack started to say that was going to be Tom's problem, but his brother jumped in.

"Research! I'm sure we can find someone in this city who can shed some light on its identity."

It took a few seconds for the import of "in this city" to penetrate, but when it did…

"Whoa-whoa-whoa! What happened to Philadelphia—the Franklin Institute, the U of P…?"

Tom put on a sheepish, aw-shucks grin. "I was going to discuss this with you this morning, bro, but didn't get a chance before our lovely guests arrived. I've been thinking that maybe New York has more resources with the potential of shedding light on our objet myste'rieux here, and was going to ask if I might stay over a few days to pursue an answer."

Gia frowned. "But what about Terry? You've been away for almost a week."

"I spoke to her yesterday morning and she's perfectly fine with it. She knows how much it means to me." He looked at Jack with puppy-dog eyes. "So whatta ya say, bro? Put up with me for a few more days?"

Jack caught a look from Gia that said, You're not going to kick out your own brother, are you?

No question why Tom brought this up in front of her.

Gia and Vicky's presence, plus the certain knowledge that Dad would have wanted Jack to cut him some slack, kept him from grabbing Tom by the throat and tossing him through a window.

Bastard.

3

Jack helped Gia and Vicky clear the dishes while Tom read the paper.

"I can see it now," Jack whispered while they were in the kitchen. "I'll never get rid of him. He'll be the man who came to dinner. I've got to find him a hotel."

She said, "You and he are the only ones left in your family. You should find a way to get along."

Jack nodded—not because he agreed, but because he didn't want to get into a discussion about this. At least not now.

Gia was right in theory, but he saw no way the two of them would ever have much in common.

"Hey!" Tom called from the table. "The Merry Widow is at the Met tonight!"

"Really?" Gia gravitated toward the front room. "That's one of my favorites."

"And Noelle Roberts is playing Hanna."

"I saw her as Mimi in La Boheme last year. She's wonderful."

Jack followed her in, snapping his fingers. "La Boheme… La Boheme … is that the one where somebody dies at the end?"

Gia laughed. "Someone almost always dies at the end of an opera. And you know that."

Tom slammed his hand on the table. "Let's go! Let's all go tonight!"