threshold of truth.

I pick up his suitcases and drag them inside. They’re heavy with a hundred memories of fun and

laughter.

“I’ll put these in your room.”

He stops me, finally breaching the threshold. “Wait. I have something in there for her.”

Jace unzips the front pocket of his large bag and pulls out a small box. He hops to his feet, sliding

his sunglasses onto his head. Tears have made his eyes a shocking blue. “Where is she?”

“The dining room, by the patio.”

He clutches his gift and heads toward his mum.

I move his stuff to his room and head downstairs.

Dad is still standing in the kitchen with his back to us, even though the water is well and truly

boiled. Annie is on the patio watering the potted plants, and Jace is placing a pendant over his mum’s

head.

“What is it?” she asks.

“Stonehenge bluestone.” A precious stone used for centuries in alternative healing. “It’ll help you

get better.”

A cup drops and smashes on the floor. I hurry into the kitchen to help dad clean it up. It’s my cup he

dropped—my Rock Whisperer one. Though it’s beyond saving, I stow the pieces in a freezer bag

anyway.

Dad is sitting on the floor leaning against a cupboard. I crouch next to him and rest a hand on his

knee, rubbing the linen.

“Come with me,” I tell him. “The afternoon, just you and I.” Let Lila have time with her son to

break it to him in her way.

“Yeah,” Dad says, running a hand through his greying hair. “That’s probably a good idea.”

We hike the ridges of the hills where pine needles sweeten the air. Birds click and cackle and

wheeze overhead. I wonder if they are conversing about us:

They seem rather somber, don’t they?

Like they built a nest in the shadows and have never see the sun.

Poor things. Someone should teach them how to fly.

A white-tufted bird with dark, iridescent feathers swoops in front of us, bringing us to a sudden halt

in the middle of a patch of sun. “Jesus, that was close.”

I spin in an arc to find the bird again. I spot its black opal feathers in the tree to our left. “It was a

Tui.”

Tui. Tui. Tui. The word is mimicked back to us. Yep, definitely a Tui. “Hear that? It’s incredible.”

Dad nods. “Sounded just like you. Lila would be beside herself. She loves Tuis.”

She loves Tuis. She loves Tuis. She loves Tuis.

And it sounds a bit like She loves you, eh?

Dad laughs, his crow’s feet deepening. “That’s beautiful.”

He slings an arm around my shoulders and kisses my temple.

That’s beautiful. That’s beautiful. That’s beautiful. The bird says.

It is.

smoky quartz

At home, Jace is pulling ingredients out of the fridge and pantry for dinner. Lila sits in her rocking

chair with a notepad and a pen, letting ink flow over the fine blue lines as she writes. Dad kisses her

cheek and she stops writing to ask what we did. She laughs as I draw in a breath and move into the

kitchen.

Jace.

He glances up at me and steps to the side, offering me space next to him. But he doesn’t say

anything. I take a cutting board and a sharp knife, then take over cutting the onions. They sting my eyes

but I’m used to that now. I dice until Jace is ready for them.

They sizzle when they hit the pan. Jace stirs them into the butter with a long wooden spoon and

languid strokes, cutting into the onions like he’s writing something of his own.

“How was Europe?” I ask when the mushrooms are frying and the pasta is boiling. I cock the lid of

the pot so the water doesn’t bubble over.

“Good for me.”

“Better than home?”

He stops stirring and looks me squarely in the eyes. “I know we have to talk.” He swallows and

looks toward his mum and our dad. “But can you wait?”

I can. I have. I always will.

When dinner is ready, Dad calls down Annie and Ernie and we all sit around the table and eat.

Lila smiles at each of us, winking at Ernie, who blushes the color of the roses in the middle of the

table.

Lila eats a few mouthfuls more than she has the past couple of days. “This tastes great, Jace.

Mushroom and capsicum cream sauce?”

“The very one you taught me.”

I poke at the pasta Jace served me, preparing to pull out all the capsicums before I dig any more

into it.

I frown at Jace twirling his pasta on his fork.

You took out the capsicum for me, didn’t you?

Ernie clears his throat. “Hey, Jace.”

“Yeah?”

“Knock-knock.”

Jace raises an eyebrow. “Who’s there?”

“Amish.”

“Amish who?”

“Aww, I missed you too.”

Annie claps him over the back of the head. “Ernie!”

Dad and Lila laugh, and Jace grins too for the first time since coming home. I could kiss that dumb

joke to bits; it’s like smoky quartz—immediately relieving the tension in the room.

“I have another one,” Ernie says as he swivels to face Annie. “Knock knock.”

A short laugh. “Who’s there?”

“Olive.”

“Olive who?”

“Olive you too.” Lila holds her breath and Annie smiles. Ernie pushes his chair back and kneels on

one knee. He pulls a velvet box out of his pocket and opens it. Annie gasps. “Will you marry me?”

Annie bites her lip and throws her arms around his neck, knocking him backward until the chair

behinds him tips and they are on the floor, laughing.

“Is that a yes?”

“Olive to marry you.”

Dad leans over and kisses Lila’s glowing face. I stand up on shaky legs, and everything is blurry as

I round the table. Annie and Ernie are pulling themselves off the floor, and when my sister is on her two

feet, I lift her into a hug and twirl her around. Her laugh puffs against my ear. “I’m so happy,” she says

and squeezes me back.

I set her down and invite Ernie into a man-hug with three quick thumps on the back. “Welcome to

the family. Remember what I said to you at the Halloween-birthday-masquerade wedding?”

He snorts at the mouthful. “Like I could forget.”

Dad pipes up. “Remember what I said too.”

“Said?” Ernie cries out. “You demonstrated what you’d do.”

“Yeah, but if you break your promise, the next time it won’t be with props.”

Dad is scary when he wants to be.

I laugh and hug him too. I breathe in the smell of pine on his clothes. “Jesus,” he says, “you’re all

growing up. Next you and Jace will be engaged as well.”

I know he doesn’t mean engaged together but my heart skips a beat. Jace is hugging his mum but

he’s looking at me.

“Thank you, Ernie,” Lila says when Jace pulls away. “I wish you and Annie a bright, beautiful

future. Maybe you’ll even give this one grandchildren one day,” she says, pinching Dad’s butt.

He jumps and scowls at Ernie. “Not for a long, long time.”

Lila smiles, taking Dad in. “He’ll be a wonderful granddaddy.” She looks at Jace and me. “They’ll

be the best uncles, too.”

Jace ducks out of the dining room and pounds up the stairs.

Lila makes a move to stand but Dad pats her shoulder. “Give the boy some time. He’s jetlagged and

tired. He needs his space.”

I duck out as soon as I can, racing up to the gaming room where he’s playing something soft on the

piano.

When he finishes, he faces me. “Bit rusty,” he says. “Haven’t been practicing as much as I should.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“Are you living here?”

I incline my head. “Staying in a flat wasn’t working out for me. Thought I’d camp here again for a

while.”

This isn’t the whole truth. I came home with my bags last weekend. Lila’s going to stay at home for

the end and I want to be here.

“Me too,” Jace says, closing the lid to the piano and standing.

“Guess that makes us neighbors again.”