Chapter Twelve: Monday, June 27, 2005, New York City, Below

Vincent, with his precocious youngest child riding on his shoulders, (she had recently promised him most solemnly that she would never be too old for piggyback rides) found Mouse hunched over his work bench, make-shift jewelers glasses over his face and an equally make-shift miner's light on his head. "You look like you just stepped out of a Jules Verne novel," he remarked quietly, not wanting to startle Mouse as he entered.

"Making something. Something for Caroline."

"So I heard. It's for her young man."

Mouse got a look on his face then, somewhat wide-eyed, his mouth slightly ajar. "Okay good, okay fine?" he asked. "To make a gift for Caroline's friend?"

Vincent set Janelle down, with a warning not to touch anything, and placed a gentle hand on Mouse's shoulder. He had been the one to find Mouse, to bring him into the community many years ago, when Mouse was a young man not much older than Caroline. Mouse was special. He was clever.

Sometimes too clever for his own good.

Most of all, Vincent knew how much Mouse looked up to him. "Yes, Mouse, it's fine for you to make something for Caroline to give to her friend."

"Vincent isn't mad? Caroline's friend is a boy. A boy from Above. From far away."

"Catherine has met this boy. She says he's a very nice young man."

"He better be," Mouse said, suddenly sounding fiercely protective.

Vincent chuckled. "Indeed. He had better be." He looked down at what Mouse was working on.

"Caroline got all the parts for Mouse. Nothing stolen," Mouse assured him. Then he looked just a little guilty. "At least nothing Mouse knows about. Found some of the parts. In Tunnles. While exploring. Secret tunnels."

"I'm sure it's fine, Mouse."

Janelle, who like her brother Christopher shared her father's features, his leonine face, his sharp-clawed hands, came to stand by his side and peer up onto the table. "Papa, when do I get to have a boyfriend?"

Mouse sputtered; Vincent glared at him. "When you are much, much older," he told her.

A part of him would always wonder if he and Catherine had been wise to have more children, after Jake—after Caroline, who was no less unintentional, even if the circumstances surrounding her conception had been far more joyful than those surrounding Jake's. And yet…when he looked at his youngest daughter, at Christopher…at Charles and at Elizabeth, it was hard to fathom his life without them in it.

And when Mouse looked at Janelle, all he saw was a little girl.

When Catherine looked at him, all she saw was the man she loved.

He looked down at the piece Mouse was working on.

And you, Simon Camden, what will you see, if you truly are meant to be a part of our world?

Friday July 1, 2005, Glen Oak, CA

Simon smiled just a little at the small plain, brown-paper-wrapped box Matt handed him, privately up in Simon's room. The only explanation he'd given was that Caroline (how was it the sound of her name made his heart jump?) had asked Sarah to ask him to give it to Simon, since he was coming back to Glen Oak that weekend—or, more accurately, Friday night. He had to be on a flight home on Saturday night, because he'd only managed to get half the holiday weekend off.

"Are you actually going to tell them this time?" Simon asked, his voice low. He wanted tear into the box then and there to see what was in it, but he was so tired of pretending everything was fine with Mary and Carlos. "You know, the longer this goes on, the harder it's going to be."

"I tried last time!" Matt hissed back. "Mom just jumped to that wild conclusion about them getting back together and it made her so happy…."

"I know." It was good seeing Mom happy. She'd been blaming herself for everything that had gone wrong with Mary and Carlos. It wasn't her fault. It was Mary's. Probably Carlos's, too. "But you have to tell her." And Caroline's package reminded him that he had to tell someone something, too. He grabbed his car keys and wallet off his desk. "I have to go. Good luck."

"Good luck? That's it? Good luck!"

"Sorry, Matt. I have my thing I need to deal with."

Matt growled in frustration behind him, as he headed for the stairs.

"I'm headed out!" he hollered as he walked out the front door.

….

"Simon!" Rose greeted him in the foyer of her parents' home. Her parents very posh, very expensive home filled with very posh, very expensive things. "It's so good to see you. Won't you come in?"

"I can't stay long. And I'm sorry I didn't call before I came over."

"Don't be silly. What is it?" She drew him into a…parlor? Is that what you called the sitting room off the foyer? It couldn't possibly be the living room; it wasn't big enough and it didn't look lived in. "Can I get you anything?"

"I'm not staying long. I just wanted to apologize for not…not calling you back." He hadn't quite been avoiding her calls, but he hadn't been taking all of them, either. He was sure that once upon a time, having someone like Rose—smart, pretty, determined—interested in him would have made him feel flattered, would have made him happy. But that was "once upon a time". "A couple of weeks ago, you asked me if I was seeing someone. I wasn't exactly honest. I'm not…we're not 'seeing' each other, but she's who I want to be with."

"If she doesn't want to be with you—"

"She does. I do. Things are just a little complicated right now."

"That doesn't sound very encouraging for the relationship, if you can even call it a relationship."

"It's a relationship," Simon told her, and every part of him knew it was true. "Maybe it's not the kind of relationship you were asking me about—and maybe it's not the kind of relationship I think you might want to have with me but it's…she's the one I want to be with. She's the one I'm going to be with. No matter what it takes."

Rose favored him with a soft little smile that seemed so at odds with her usually overbearing personality. "Whoever she is, she's a lucky woman."

He smiled back. "I'm the lucky one." He leaned in and kissed Rose's cheek. "And I'm sorry. I didn't mean to send the mixed signals or anything."

She shrugged. "I can get a little… single-minded sometimes."

"That's not entirely a bad thing. Good night."

She gave over a little smile. "You, too."

Simon got as far as the end of the block before he had to pull over and dial Caroline's number. He hadn't expected to get her; it wasn't unusual for him to get her voicemail. But this time, she picked up.

"I'm at the bookstore," she explained.

He smiled and warmth blossomed in his chest. He wished he was with her.

"Has Matt arrived yet?" she asked.

"He's here."

There was brief pause on the other end. "Do you like it?"

"I haven't opened it yet." Even before she said oh, he felt her disappointment. "I had something I needed to do first," Simon explained. He told her about Rose. About how he'd thought she just wanted to catch up about school or life or whatever, but apparently, she'd wanted more. "When Matt gave me the package, I realized I needed to see Rose first, to explain that I wasn't…I couldn't be interested in her like that as long as I had you." He held his breath, waiting for a response because they hadn't made any promises. Technically, they weren't even dating, let alone dating exclusively. The last thing he wanted was to make Caroline uncomfortable.

"I…have a confession of my own," she final said. "Your sister Ruthie called me. She told me about Rose."

"Is that why you got me something?"

Another long pause. Then finally, "I know it's probably silly. I just didn't want you to forget…. We talk on the phone almost every day. But that's no substitute for being together, for seeing each other, face-to-face."

"It's not," he agreed, the deep pang of longing, of missing her, growing deeper. "But you didn't have to buy me something to remind me how much I miss you."

"I…just open it. Because I didn't…it's not just about whether or not you miss me, it's about how much I miss you."

"I…." love you…. But it was too soon for words like that. "Can I call you back when I get home, after I open it?"

"I'm not sure I'll be able to answer—but if you want to talk, leave a message. I can probably slip out and call you later."

"You're not grounded, or anything are you?"

"No, nothing like that. It's just easier to call when I'm not at home. I tell my parents we talk. I'm not sneaking around or hiding anything."

He felt a little guilty. He wasn't exactly hiding their friendship, but he didn't talk about Caroline with Mom and Dad, either. "I should get going. Matt's home to deliver some bad news to our parents. It's my sister Mary," he explained, before she could ask…before she could start to worry about Matt and Sarah. "She's filed for divorce and not told anybody—not even Matt. He had to get it from her husband. Ex-husband. And he doesn't want to be the one to tell Mom and Dad, so it's up to Matt."

"I'm sorry. About your sister and Matt's predicament. I…I can't fathom ever putting Jake in a position like that."

"That's because you are nothing like my sister Mary." He hadn't meant to make that sound so scathing.

"I'm sure she's hurting," Caroline said gently.

"Yeah. I am too. I'll talk to you later."

"Until then."

Caroline disconnected the call and Simon sat there a moment, mulling over everything that had happened.

Rose.

Ruthie.

He wasn't sure whether he was angry with her or happy she obviously cared enough to interfere. In the end, she was who she was, and he loved her for it.

As for Mary… "She is who she is, too," he murmured aloud.

And Caroline. Warmth blossomed in his chest again. They talked nearly every day, but she still missed him as much as he missed her. He drove home, feeling better than he had in a while…until he got in the door and saw Matt, Mom, and Dad in the living room. "Hey, guys," he came in quietly. Mom was in tears. Dad looked serious. Matt…. Simon hugged him, then Mom.

"Divorced," she said softly. "And I get it. Not all couples can work out their problems, but…Charlie…she gave up her son and…and Puerto Rico?" She looked hopelessly at Matt. "He's taken Charlie to Puerto Rico?"

"That's where his family lives," Matt reminded her.

Simon sat with them until Dad suggested it was late and he and Mom went up to bed, then he and Matt went into the kitchen. Simon put on the kettle for tea.

Matt snorted out a little laugh.

"What?" Simon asked.

"When did you get to be the…this."

"This?"

"No offence, but for a while there, you were pretty self-absorbed."

Simon smiled. "I know. I'm sorry. I just got caught up in…life, I guess. My own life. But you're right, it was selfish and I'm sorry."

"Hey, what was in the box, anyway?"

"I haven't opened it yet."

Matt gave him an incredulous look. "Well stop trying to console me and go upstairs and see what it is."

"I thought you didn't like Caroline. Or at least me and Caroline together."

"I don't. But I like her, and I love you and as long as you're not moving to New York anytime soon, it's okay to be friends. Just friends. She's too young for anything else."

Simon didn't argue, even if he knew it was something else.

He took his tea up to his room, shut the door and opened the package. Wrapped in layers of old newspaper lay a silk bag, its contents, a solid weight in his palm.

A pocket watch?

It seemed weathered, old. The design on the outer cover was a compass rose. When Simon opened it… two clocks, side by side…no their outer circles were intertwined and their hands ticked along in perfect sync with one another. One was set to Glen Oak time, the other to New York. Inscribed on the inside of the cover were the words:

How shall I hold my soul, that it may not be touching yours…

He smiled.

"Can I come in?"

Simon laughed. How was it nothing in this house happened without Ruthie knowing about it? "Yeah sure."

She looked over his shoulder and grinned.

"She told me you called," Simon informed his sister.

"Are you mad?"

"It's 'angry'," he corrected. "And no, I'm not angry."

Ruthie sat down next to him on the bed. "I like her by the way. We've talked a couple of times over the last week. I think she's good for you."

"I think she's good for me too." He ran his fingertips over the engraved letters again, then shut the watch and turned to his little sister. "Have you heard about Mary and Carlos?"

"I talked to Mary last week—don't look at me like that. We didn't talk long. She wanted to know if Carlos had told Mom and Dad yet so I asked 'told them what' and she came clean, probably because we're sisters but maybe because she was feeling a little guilty. I told her she should tell them herself, not stick Carlos with it, but…well, you know Mary."

"And Mom and Dad," Simon added.

"Yeah. And Mom and Dad." Ruthie inclined her head towards the pocket watch. "Does this mean we've really seen the last of Rose?"

"I went over to see her tonight. I told her there was already someone in my life and even though things are a little complicated at the moment, I know who I want to be with."

Ruthie wrapped her arms around his neck. "I'm glad you told her. And I'm glad you have somebody who makes you happy."

Simon closed the watch and laid his arms overtop of his sister's. "You'll find somebody too. The right somebody. Someone who…."

"Who doesn't know how to hold my soul that it isn't touching there's?" she teased—but she gave him a quick squeeze to take the sting out of her tone.

"Someone exactly like that," Simon promised.