Chapter Twenty-Six: Sunday, January 1, 2006, New York

"Are you certain this is wise?" Jacob inquired, giving his granddaughter a deep, inquisitive look. Vincent and Catherine hadn't said much, but he was sure they must have mixed feelings. Against his better judgement, they had allowed this…romance? How could it possibly be a romance? The boy lived in California!

Except now, of course, he wanted to move to New York.

Samantha stood quietly in the corner of Jacob's chamber, observing from the shadow of one of the bookcases. She had grown into a lovely, wise woman whose opinions he valued. So, he took her seriously when she said that Simon Camden was an affable young man, that he was polite and seemed respectful. Just the same, she wouldn't admit him into her home (because for all that the three of them lived there, Samantha ruled the roost) without Vincent and Catherine's permission. Without his permission.

"Simon wants to move to New York. Samantha, Zach, and Kipper need a new housemate," Caroline said. "He's used to living with a houseful and even though he doesn't know about the Tunnels yet, he will. Isn't having him move in with them better than having some stranger living in their house?" She shot a pleading look to Samantha, who, when Jacob also looked over, merely shrugged.

Of course, Caroline was right. However, "That isn't the point," Jacob persisted.

"I know I should have discussed it with Mother and Father—with you—first. I'm sorry," Caroline told him.

Jacob nodded. So did Caroline's father. And truly, it wasn't as if Vincent had never acted rashly. It wasn't as if Jacob had never been young and rash himself, once upon a time. He turned back to his granddaughter. "What of the issue of this boy's age?" he wanted to know. He wasn't…angry. That would be too strong a word. But he should have heard how old Simon Camden was before today and from someone other than Samantha.

"Age is just a number," Caroline argued.

Jacob set his jaw, but it was Vincent who spoke, his tone even. "There is a great deal more to age than a mere number, Caroline. You are mature beyond your years, but neither of you can help the fact that he has more life experience than you do. That was of far less concern to those of us who love you when he lived on the other side of the country."

"I don't see why," she told him.

Vincent huffed out a sigh.

"All right, perhaps I do," Caroline conceded. "But it's not like his moving here is going to change anything."

"It's going to change everything!" Jacob didn't mean to snap, truly. "Caroline," he continued, trying to sound more reasonable. Trying to be more reasonable. "You have your whole life ahead of you. There will be many other young men in your life." Preferable young men closer to her own age—better still someone from the Tunnels, or the child of one of their Helpers Above. "Don't you think allowing him to move here to be with you would be unfair to both of you?"

"You can't stop him from moving," said Caroline. "You can only stop him from moving in with Samantha—where you'll have a much better opportunity to keep an eye on us. Unless you're going to forbid me from seeing him?" She looked from her father to her mother, then to her grandfather, and back to her father again.

"And if we did?" Vincent asked.

Caroline gave the matter a lengthy consideration, then she straightened her shoulders. "You know that I would never out right defy you, Father. You also know how I feel about Simon. How he feels about me. You've heard from others, from people you trust, whose opinions you value, what kind of person…what kind of man, Simon is. Wouldn't you rather I go out with him than take the chance on some unknown future suitor, just because Simon a few years older than me?"

Jacob bit back a sigh. Caroline was going to make a fine attorney.

Catherine spoke for the first time since their meeting had been called. "You're certain of your feelings? You know I like him, Caroline, but Father is right. There will be many more young men in your life. You'll be in college in a few years. You've had so little experience with young men."

"Aren't I just as likely to meet someone older in college?"

"You will also be older," said Vincent.

"Which means that in those same few years it won't matter that Simon is older than me."

"The point remains that right now you are only fifteen—nearly sixteen," Jacob corrected before she had the chance to point that out. "Whereas this young man is nearly twenty."

"There is no denying that," Caroline replied, her tone almost frighteningly rational.

A very good lawyer indeed….

"There helping it, either," she continued. "Simon is a little more than three-and-a-half years older than me. We are both aware that right now, that's a big deal. But by the time we're old enough to make a lifelong commitment, three-and-a-half years won't be a big deal at all."

"Lifelong?" Vincent breathed.

Jacob wasn't sure whose knees felt weaker, his or his son's, because he was certain the hand Catherine laid on Vincent's shoulder just then was meant to steady him. He, himself, was quite glad he was seated. "You've spoken of such things with this boy?" Jacob asked her.

"Not implicitly, but I believe it's what we're both thinking."

Jacob exchanged a look with his son. With Catherine. Was it possible Caroline was so serious, so young? Surely, this was just infatuation, like Vincent with Lisa, like so many of Jacob's own first crushes on girls before he met Margaret.

Vincent found his voice first. "You are right, Caroline. We cannot prevent this boy from moving to New York. You have told me he is not like other young men from the world Above, and I—we three," his gaze took in Jacob as well as Catherine, "and the others who love you have always trusted your judgement. I can only hope that I am correct in doing so now. And in truth, I am not a man who could ask his daughter to follow any path but the one to which her heart directs her. All I ask is that you tread with care and remember that you are still young. Both of you. Life holds many adventures yet in store. Do not let your feelings for one person, no matter how strong they may seem, blind you to the endless possibilities that lie ahead."

"I won't. I promise."

"I will hold you to that promise," Vincent told her. He turned to Samantha. "If you are looking for my blessing to allow this boy into your home, you have it."

Samantha looked to Jacob, who nodded. Despite his continued misgivings, he would stand united with his son and Catherine.

Caroline rushed over and embraced her father. Catherine. Then she walked over to Jacob. "I know you don't approve, Grandfather."

"I do wish you to be happy, Caroline. But I also wish you to make wise choices." He took her hands in his. She was both like her father and unlike him. Jacob met her gaze and held it a long moment. "Your father is correct. You have never given us cause to doubt your judgement. I hope this young man of yours understands how truly special you are."

"I know you'll like him, Grandfather." She leaned in and kissed his cheek.

When someone knocked on the apartment door, Simon's stomach fluttered. It was nearly eight o'clock, but Caroline had promised that she'd get in touch with him as soon as she spoke to her parents and grandfather. She wouldn't bother to come all the way over if it was bad news—would she?

But when he opened the door, it wasn't Caroline standing there.

It wasn't her parents, either.

It was his—or at least one of them. "Hi, Dad. Come on in." He wished he could say he was surprised, but he'd predicted that at least one of them would show up. He supposed he was lucky Mom hadn't sent Kevin, too.

"This is…nice."

"What were you expecting?"

Dad opened his mouth. He shut it again. He shrugged. He walked up to the little dinette table with its velvet cushioned chairs and the bouquet of fresh flowers Cathy had had delivered yesterday, "to make the place feel more homey", according to the card.

Before either of them could say more, there was another knock on the door. Simon opened it to find Samantha standing there. She smiled—although he doubted she missed the fact that is dad was standing in the middle of the living room again, assessing…probably everything.

"I won't stay long," Samantha said. "I just came to drop these by." She handed him a key ring. "Front door. Back door. Storage shed—which is mostly full."

"Does this mean…?" He couldn't help the grin forming on his face.

She nodded. "You can move in whenever you want—after you write me that check you promised."

Simon grinned. "Already done." He didn't dare look at his father as he retrieved the check from the kitchen counter. "First and last month's rent," he told Samantha.

"Rent?" Dad echoed. "You're…moving…? Here?"

"Technically, it's on the other side of town," Simon told him. "But yes. I'm moving to New York."

"When?"

"I guess now," Simon answered.

"What about a job? You can't just move without a job."

Samantha flicked a quick glance his way, then back to Simon. "Henry says to come by in the morning. It's just part time, but it's a start. And the school where Laura and I work has an opening for a part time janitor. Not glamorous, but…." She shrugged.

"I did janitorial work in high school." Simon couldn't help feeling optimistic. Those were two jobs he knew he could do, and he already knew he liked Henry and Lin. "I am one hundred percent okay with 'not glamorous' work and I know my old boss will give me a great reference."

"Perfect." She seemed pleased. "I'll talk to Paul, our principle, tomorrow morning. Being able to sign should bump you up to the top of the list, which to be honest, wasn't all that long to begin with. It's a school for the deaf," she explained. "Why don't you come by after you see Henry?"

"Thanks, I will. I can't tell you how much I appreciate this."

"Like I said, it wasn't first and last month I was worried about—"

"Um, excuse me," Dad cut in. "We haven't met. I'm Simon's father, Eric Camden." He looked like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming semi.

"It's nice to meet you Reverend Camden. I'm Samantha Carmichael."

"Ms.….Mrs.…?"

"Mrs.," she supplied. "Or just Samantha is fine."

"Samantha," he echoed. "Could you just excuse my son and I for a moment." His gaze seemed fixed on the check in her hands.

"I really can't stay long, anyway." Samantha folded it and tucked it into her pocket. She returned her attention to Simon. "The girls are usually in bed by eight-thirty, so if you can keep things quiet after that…it's not just me and Zach will appreciate it. It'll be good for your own sanity, too."

Simon laughed. "I have two little brothers around the same age."

"Caroline said you were from a big family. You'll have your own shelves in the pantry, and you can get a mini fridge for your room if you want—but it's an old house, so try not to plug in too much at once. No hot plates, no electric heaters. You'll be responsible for picking up after yourself in the common rooms—which you're welcome to hang out in, just bear in mind those not-always-angelic daughters of mine and Zach's. We'll split the bills four ways, but that doesn't mean I won't be keeping an eye on things to see if anything spikes unusually after you move in. Not that I expect it to," she added with a smile that seemed more friendly than it was a warning. "No parties. Under the circumstances, I'm not worried about girls. Just remember that Vincent and Father raised the three of us, so as much as I like you, I will always side with them. Oh, and one piece of friendly advice: don't get into any chess games with Kip unless you enjoy losing."

Simon nodded. "Got it."

"We'll see you soon then. Reverend." She needed towards Simon's father, then took her leave.

"Simon…." Dad looked pale. "You can't seriously…you didn't just give that woman everything in your savings account, did you?"

"Most of it," he admitted.

"You're only just starting to get your life back on track. You can't just pick up and move to New York!"

"I'm pretty sure I just did." He was equally sure his dad couldn't stop him—but he refrained from saying as much aloud. It would only cause an argument. He didn't want to fight.

"What about your job at Pete's?" Dad asked.

"I called Pete this afternoon. He was sad to see me go, but under the circumstances, he understands and will mail me my last check next week. He even promised me a good reference if I needed it."

"What circumstances? So, you can be near your…your….."

"Girlfriend," Simon said the word his father seemed to be able to. He was still getting used to it, himself. What he had with Caroline felt deeper, more important, than anything he'd shared with anyone else.

"Simon, she's fifteen."

"She'll be sixteen in a few days. I know that's not much better. But in a couple of years, it won't o matter that I'm three years older than she is. Kevin is five years older than Lucy, and no one thought it was a big deal when they started dating."

"Lucy was almost twenty when she met Kevin, and for the record, your mother and I did think it was a big deal. But let's just…just table that for a minute. What about school?"

"I checked the school's website. I can cancel my classes by phone for a full refund. It's too late to enroll anywhere out here for the winter semester, but I should be able to get back in by spring. I did some checking. I should qualify for financial aid by then—"

"Simon, you can't just keep jumping from school to school."

"I'm not asking you and Mom to pay for this. I'll manage it on my own."

"That's not the point. You're finally getting your life back on track. We don't want you to sabotage all your hard work or throw everything away on some girl you barely know."

Simon bit his tongue on ninety percent of what he wanted to say. "I'm not throwing anything away. I'm taking a semester off."

"Don't you mean another semester off?"

"Fine," he conceded. "Another semester off."

His dad's next comment was cut off by a knock on the door. Simon prayed it was Caroline; the last thing he wanted was for her to meet his dad like this.