Chapter Sixteen: Monday, December 26, 2005, New York City

When they finally touched down in New York's JFK airport, Devin watched Simon got Moora and Tobin's carryon bags down out of the overhead compartment before retrieving his own, then offering to get Johnathan's, since Lyla was still helping Beryl. It was nearly ten pm, local time. Of course, the kids' internal clocks, like those of everyone else in their group, was still on California time. Devin didn't envy Lyla, Johnathan, and Sam, in the task of getting the kids settled and into bed.

He didn't necessarily envy his own task ahead, either. The Hancock family was going to a hotel; he and Robbie were headed Below where Devin was sure his brother would have a hundred and one questions, even if he didn't expect Vincent, a man of notably few words, to actually ask any of those questions. He would simply wait for Devin to tell him, probably over a game of chess.

Father would be a different story.

Devin fully expected to be grilled by the old man.

Funny, how no matter where he went, home would always be a hole in the ground. Devin smiled, despite all the things running through his head with regards to Simon Camden. So far, he had found the boy—young man—to be everything Catherine described. Not that he doubted her judgement. It was just…Simon wasn't from their world. He had no idea what he was getting himself into and there was no way to tell him until he was in deep enough to already be a part of it.

But Simon had helped with the kids without being asked. When Tobin needed to use the restroom during the flight, Simon had offered to accompany him (carefully nonchalantly, since he was, after all, seated on the aisle, and wouldn't mind "stretching his legs a little"). Tobin was ten and didn't really need an escort—but Simon had seemed just aware as the adults in their party of the dirty looks that guy in the next aisle was giving the Hancock family.

Devin had listened to the way Simon talked to the Tobin and Moora, watched the way he interacted with them, the way he didn't treat them as little kids, even though Moora was the same age as Simon's own younger siblings. Then again, Simon hadn't been condescending to Sam and David either. He seemed used to helping out. More than that, he seemed to enjoy it.

Devin had been watching the entire Camden family as they overcame the initial shock from what was genuinely an unintended oversight. No one had expected Annie Camden to lay out breakfast for them.

He would have been lying if he'd said he didn't have more than a little trepidation about the entire situation. It wasn't just that this boy—this young man—was a bit old for Caroline. Caroline was mature for her age, and Simon…well, he seemed like he had bit of growing up yet to do. But he wasn't part of their world. If he were a boy from Below, someone who knew Caroline's family, who understood, who had to face Father and explain his intentions towards the old man's granddaughter, that would be one thing (and not a position Devin would envy anyone!). But Simon was from California. He was a minister's son and in Devin's experience, not all Christians exhibited what one would consider very Christian behavior.

Or all too Christian behavior.

Nine-Eleven and the tragedy of the Twin Towers had brought out the best in some people and the worst in others, just as the crash landing of the Tenctonese ship had, fourteen years before it. Extremists got more extreme.

Good people became better people.

The Camdens, Devin had decided, were good people.

Robbie slid his arm into his as they maneuvered through the crowded airport towards the baggage claim.

"Well?" she asked quietly, as the others moved up towards the conveyer belt to await their bags. "Does he meet with your approval?"

Devin snorted out a little laugh. "I'm not the one he has to impress."

"True." She smiled up at him. "But I think you like him. I like him too."

"His family's a little…intense," Devin opined after a moment. "Or at least the mother and that one sister. Lucy."

"And your family isn't intense?"

He laughed again. "Poor kid. He really has no idea what he's gotten himself into., does he?"

"How could he?"

Devin just shook his head. "Think he'll be able to handle it?"

"I guess that'll depend on how much he loves her." She snuggled in close, and Devin wondered yet again what exactly he'd done to deserve this woman in his life. Whatever it was, he was grateful.

Simon grabbed his bag from the turnstile and tried for the hundredth—hundred thousandth?—time to push down the nervous, happy tremor that kept fluttering through his stomach. It had started before getting off the plane, before even getting on the plane. It had been building since last night—since even before last night. But last night, when he spoke to Caroline over the phone for the last time before he would finally see her face-to-face again, it had become so acute, it was almost painful. It had been only a brief call; he had his family stuff, Caroline had hers. But hearing her voice, knowing the next time would be face to face….

He was here.

This was real.

He was terrified.

What if she'd changed her mind about him?

What if her family didn't like him?

What if his family had scared them off?

He really hadn't had any idea the friends Devin and Robbie would be showing up with were Newcomers—but it wasn't like Mom had said she was making a big deal out of it.

Right.

Mom made a big deal out of everything.

Simon helped Moora with her suitcase and walked next to her as Devin led the way through the crowded terminal. The number of odd looks they got—the Hancocks got—was unnerving. It had been almost twenty years. What was wrong with people?

They stopped just inside the exit to put on coats before entering into the frigid New York night. "Oh man!" Simon exclaimed as the cold air hit him square in the face. Although the sidewalk was clear, he could snow piled up just beyond the intimidatingly long line of taxies sitting by the curbside, waiting for potential passengers.

Devin was beaming. "God, I miss winter!"

Robbie looked about as happy as Simon felt to be blasted by the cold.

"Can we build a snowman!" Moora asked.

Beryl rolled her eyes; Tobin bobbed his head enthusiastically with his younger sister, making Simon smile, even if he had no particular love of this weather.

"Maybe tomorrow," their mother promised. "Right now, we have to get you three—and your father—to the hotel. It's late."

"I'm fine," Johnathan assured her. Again.

"You should rest," Sam told him. "You and the pod both need your sleep."

He heaved a sigh, but didn't argue further. "We'll see you in the morning," he said to Devin and Robbie. After exchanging warm hugs, he turned to Simon. "It was good to meet you."

"You, too."

After a few more pleasantries—which included Simon receiving a big hug from Moora—Robbie saw the Hancocks and Sam into a taxi, while Devin hung back with Simon.

"You're sure you're okay to get to Cathy's place on your own?" Devin asked him. "You have the address?"

"I have it. I'll be fine." As long as he was taking a cab, and not the subway. As long as all this fussing, and questions Devin had had for him on the plane, meant what Simon thought it did, that Caroline wanted the same things Simon did.

In the future, he reminded himself. Caroline was young. Simon still had a lot to figure out. But someday….

"All right." Devin handed over the keys to Cathy's place. "You have our number in case you need anything. Don't hesitate to use it."

"You're starting to sound like an old mother hen—or maybe your father." Robbie rejoined them.

Devin laughed. He helped Simon get a cab, made sure the driver got the address right, and watched while the cabby pulled away.

….

Simon had never been to an apartment building with a doorman before and being called "sir" by a guy who looked a few years older than him was more than a little weird, not that he minded having a little help getting his bags in the door.

But then he saw who was waiting for him in the garland bedecked lobby, and he stopped short. She was…extraordinary, standing next to the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree, her hair a mass of wild strawberry-blonde curls, in a long green velvet skirt and oversized sweater.

"Welcome back."

Simon dropped his bags and went to greet her. Caroline's arms were warm and strong and real. He felt her heart beating, heard it in his ears. He closed his eyes and held her tight. "I wasn't expecting to see you until tomorrow." He feathered a soft kiss to the top of her head.

"I can't stay long." She pulled back, but didn't let go right away. "I just wanted to make sure you got in all right. Technically, Mother asked me to come." She offered up a shy smile. "But I'm pretty sure she only asked because she knew how much I wanted to see you."

Simon leaned in and hugged her again, savoring her warmth. It seemed to last forever, and yet it was over way too soon.

Caroline helped him gather up his discarded luggage, shouldering his carryon bag. "It's the least I can do for all the times you carried my books," she said, when he began to protest. She pressed the button on the elevator. "How was the flight?"

"Long. But I had good company."

"I hope they didn't overwhelm you too badly."

He chuckled. The elevator doors slid open, and they stepped inside. "I think they were the ones who were overwhelmed. Mom decided to serve breakfast. She made Lucy go out for scones with clotted cream and jam at eight o'clock this morning."

"Oh dear. I'm sorry. I should have told you."

He shrugged. "There was no reason for you to think you had to."

They exited the elevator and Simon let her lead the way to the apartment door, at the end of a wide, well-lit. It reminded him a little of Rose's parent's place, at least in as much as it was clear that only wealthy people lived her—and yet, Caroline was one of the most down to earth people Simon had ever met. He got the door open, and she got the light switch. "Wow."

She chuckled. "Yeah, sorry. I don't think my mother has redecorated since the early 90's."

"No, it's gorgeous." Definitely feminine with soft beige walls and peach accents—and a white sofa, clearly suggesting no children had ever played there. It wasn't large, just a comfortable looking living room, kitchen, dining area with two chairs, and a large open doorway leading into the spacious bedroom. From there, a pair of French doors led out onto a balcony. Beyond the frosted-over glass, Simon spied candlelight flickering in the darkness. "What…?"

Caroline took him by the hand and led him outside, where dozens of candles flickered in the night, dancing against a backdrop of city lights and skyscrapers. A package wrapped in brown paper, tied with green ribbon sat on the little bistro table, tucked into one corner of the balcony.

"Aren't you freezing?" he asked her.

"Not at all. Merry Christmas."

Simon drew her into his arms and just…held her. He closed his eyes. The silence between them was comfortable and for a long moment, time seemed to stand still, happiness settling on him. He wasn't cold either.

At length, Caroline shifted in his arms, and he opened his eyes to find her looking up at him. "Don't you want to open your present?" she asked.

This was all the gift he could ever need. However, "Only if we can go back inside so I can give you yours."

"All right."

Simon picked up the package and they moved, hand in hand, back into the living room, where he set it on the coffee table, so he could get into his carryon bag. They sat on the sofa and said, "You first," nearly in unison.

They both laughed. "How about we go together?" Simon suggested.

Caroline nodded and carefully peeled back the tape on the underside of the box, while Simon tugged apart the bow. Within the folds of the heavy brown paper, he discovered a beautiful old book in seemingly pristine condition. He opened it to discover it was a German language, first edition copy of the collected works of Rainer Maria Rilke.

"I realize Rilke is my favorite poet," Caroline began, sounding a little bashful, her cheeks tinged with color. "And you're just learning—"

"It's beautiful. I love it." I think I love you…. But it was too soon to say something like that aloud.

Her smile deepened and she lifted the lid off the little black jewelry box. "Oh, Simon." Caroline lifted one of the earrings out. "They're exquisite. Thank you." She put it back in the box. "I wish I could stay longer, but I have to get home."

"I wish you could stay longer too. Can I walk you home?"

"I'll be fine. You've had a long day and it's not that far." She stood up and he stood with her, to at least walk her to the door. "I'll see you tomorrow and every day this week," she promised. "My mother stopped by earlier and left some food in the refrigerator for you. She didn't cook any of it herself." Caroline grinned. "There are plenty of staples in the freezer and canned goods in the pantry. Help yourself to anything you like. There's a Starbuck's just down the street, too."

"Thank you. And thank your mother for me. I really appreciate this."

"I'm just glad you were able to be here." Caroline leaned up and placed a soft kiss to his cheek. "Don't forget to call your parents."

"I phoned them from the cab." Mom had fussed. Dad was glad he'd made it safely. They were both worried. "Are you sure okay to make it home by yourself? It's late."

"I'm sure. Good night, Simon."

He stood in the doorway until she entered the elevator.