"Good morning, Grace," said Kirsten casually the next morning as she came down for breakfast and found Grace sitting at the kitchen table, eating dry cereal with orange juice and coffee. She was fully dressed and sat with razor-back posture, she noticed, and was flipping through the morning newspaper.

"Hi, Kirsten," she said with a smile. "Sleep well?" She hadn't meant to say it, but God. How was she supposed to sleep when just when she thought that they were done, they did it again? Kirsten turned rather pink, but said only, "Pretty well, yeah, thanks. You?"

"The bed is really comfortable," Grace non-answered, not wanting to lie, but not having gotten much sleep at all.

"Good," said Kirsten distractedly as she opened a cabinet and took out a mug. She wasn't exactly dressed, observed Grace; she was wearing a green silk dressing robe and her hair was pulled messily off her face. Not a big surprise, considering the night she had… "Did you make coffee?"

"Yeah," Grace said sheepishly. "Mom was never all that good at coffee-making. I mean," she hastened to say, "she could cook; she could do a lot of domestic stuff…but she couldn't really make a good cup of coffee." Kirsten smiled.

"It's about the only thing I can make," she said with a laugh. "But Jimmy—your dad—is a pretty good cook when he wants to be." Grace frowned.

"He told me that he doesn't really cook…" she said.

"Well, compared to me," said Kirsten cheerfully, "he's five-star." She studied Grace's cereal.

"Where did you get that?" she asked curiously. Grace grinned.

"Top left cabinet, right by the fridge," she told her. Kirsten opened the cabinet and found, to her surprise, several varieties of cereal.

"Hey, beautiful," Jimmy said with a light kiss for Kirsten as he walked into the room. Noticing Grace, he added, "Morning, Grace."

"Hi…Dad," she said. He noticed her hesitation and caught her eyes.

"Grace, if you can't call me 'Dad,' I understand. 'Jimmy' is fine." Grace smiled.

"No, I like calling you 'Dad.' It's just going to take some getting used to." A thought occurred to her and she rushed on, "Unless you don't want me to—"

"Of course I want you to," he interrupted her, and reached over to ruffle her hair.

"Sorry. Vicky hates it when I muss her hair."

"I don't mind so much," said Grace, embarrassed.

"Jimmy, I didn't know we had breakfast cereal," said Kirsten, sitting down with a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios.

"Oh, yeah, honey, Caleb likes it," he said, grabbing some bread and putting it into the toaster. "We've had maybe three kinds for the past…what, six years?"

"I am a terrible mother," said Kirsten, shaking her head and laughing ruefully. "I don't even know what my son likes to eat for breakfast."

"It's okay, honey," said Jimmy, sliding into the chair next to hers with a cup of coffee while he waited for his toast. "You're just not an early riser." He turned to Grace. "You have a good sleep?" They were going to keep asking her, weren't they, and she'd have to keep lying.

"Yeah, fine." Kirsten got up to go get dressed, and Jimmy and Grace sat together for awhile in awkward silence. Everything felt awkward these days…

"So, are the other kids—I mean, my brothers and sister…are they coming down soon?" Jimmy laughed.

"Our kids, get up before ten in the summer? Please. It was shocking seeing you in here this early."

"Yeah, well, I worked a summer job for awhile," said Grace, slightly embarrassedly. Jimmy smiled at her as Kirsten rushed back into the kitchen looking harried. It was clear that she had not finished her toilette, as her hairbrush was still in her right hand and she had a tube of lipstick in her left.

"Um, I have to go...Dad's busy being a slave driver and all. Jimmy, are you going to stay home?"

"Can't," said Jimmy, getting up as the bell rang on the toaster. "There's some crisis or other that—" He broke off and rolled his eyes. "I'll leave you the keys to the Mercedes, okay? If you want to go anywhere, I mean. You have a license, right?"

"Uh…yeah…but…you'll leave me the keys to your car? You don't even know me." Jimmy shrugged.

"You're my daughter. Besides, I mean, it's just a car. Maybe if something happens, I can convince Kirsten to break the German streak and let me have a Ferrari," he continued in a teasing voice. Grace shook her head.

"Thanks, Dad," she said without hesitating on the "Dad." She was proud of herself for that one.

"Okay, I really have to go now," said Kirsten. "Bye, Jimmy"—she gave him a light kiss on the lips—"Bye, Grace."

"Bye, Kirsten." Jimmy took his seat again and wolfed down the toast he had just finished butter-ing and jam-ing.

"I'll see you later, kiddo," he said, looking at Grace affectionately.

"Bye."

"Sorry about the noise last night," he whispered as he walked past her chair. Grace blushed. "Don't blame Kirsten; I talked her into it," he added, and she couldn't help noticing that he looked gleeful rather than sorry.

There didn't seem to be much to do once Kirsten and—Dad—had left. Grace glanced at the clock. It was only nine. By Dad's calculations, she had another hour of solitude before her brothers and sister woke up. But what was she going to do, anyway? While she didn't mind the morning paper, she drew the line at morning news programs, and talk shows had always gotten on her nerves. Besides, she was still uncomfortable using the Coopers' things; it was hard enough staying in the room and using the kitchen.

As Grace meandered through the house, avoiding her father's and Kirsten's offices, she caught a glimpse of the backyard through a window, and her eyes widened in shock. There was a sparkling infinity pool in the yard, a vast expanse of long but well-kept green grass, and a stunning array of colorful flowers. Though it was only nine o'clock, the sun shone brightly in typical summer-y southern-California fashion. Carefully, she walked out into the sun, and her breath caught in her throat. It was even more beautiful from outside. There was a pretty, cozy-looking pool house a few strides away from the pool, and Grace noted that it was not small, though her eyes were on the pool itself. It was a warm day already, and she was itching to go swimming. She mentally went through the hasty packing of her things that she had done before she'd left Chino. Yes, there had been a bathing suit, she decided, and darted back into the house.

Trying as hard as she could to be light-footed so that she wouldn't wake her half-siblings, Grace rushed up the stairs and slipped into her room. She opened the closet door and found her larger bag. Digging through it, she finally found the hot pink bikini she had bought the year before. She closed the door and quickly changed, but put a tee shirt and a pair of shorts on over the swimsuit before going back downstairs.

As she passed the kitchen, Grace heard a girl's voice call out to her.

"The sun's really strong out here. Make sure you get some sunscreen from the pool house." Grace turned and saw Vicky eating a muffin. Like her mother, she wore a dressing gown instead of clothes. She really did look extraordinarily like Kirsten, but her mannerisms were different, Grace realized. She had Jimmy's languid, easygoing demeanor more than she did Kirsten's precise, impeccable nature.

"Thanks," said Grace with a slight smile. "Is it locked?" Vicky shook her head.

"Mom and Dad are pretty trusting. Besides, Newport people are pretty trustworthy when it comes to that, you know? I mean, not that they're better than normal people...it's just that everybody pretty much has a pool and a pool house and all that crap. It's nothing special. Make sure you use the SPF 45, too, or you could really burn." Vicky studied her older half-sister. "Or maybe you won't. You obviously haven't inherited Mom's skin. Lucky you," she added dryly.

"I think Kirsten's beautiful," said Grace casually. Vicky rolled her eyes.

"Of course you do. Everyone thinks Mom's beautiful, because she is, and all I ever hear is how lucky I am that I look like her. It's so stupid. Mom looks the way she does because of a good mix of genes, and it's supposed to make her special, like, touch-me-not, I'm the great Kirsten Cooper. She's just a normal person, but nobody seems to get that."

"Why does that bother you?" asked Grace curiously. Kirsten seemed nice, though she didn't know her very well, and she was beautiful. Vicky rolled her eyes again.

"Because it's stupid. Newport people are so phony. They treat Mom and Dad like royalty, just because they're better-looking and richer than even most of the neighbors."

"But aren't they, like, really successful professionally, too?" asked Grace, remembering Summer's words from the day before.

"Sure, but nobody cares about that. It doesn't matter where the money comes from so long as there's lots of it. And Mom and Dad aren't innocent in all this, either. If Newport treats them like king and queen, they treat everyone in Newport like their court." She snorted. "Sometimes, I think they do it without even thinking about it. Mom especially, but then maybe that's just because she hangs out with Newport women, who mostly sit at home or in their expensive cars and spend their husbands' money, so, you know, they have time to be catty. And she just sort of...does her little queen wave, or makes a little comment or whatever, and she acts like she doesn't know that everyone's making a big deal of every word that comes out of her mouth, but she does. She knows they think she's the greatest thing ever because she's Caleb Nichol's daughter and Jimmy Cooper's wife, and it's like this unbeatable combination or whatever. It annoys the hell out of me," she finished.

"I...well, whatever," said Grace lamely. "Thanks for the sunscreen tip."

"No problem." Vicky turned and looked at Grace more carefully.

"You really do look like Dad," she finally said. "Well, not Dad exactly, but Dad's family. You look a lot like Grandma, actually. I guess that's how Mom and Dad knew you really are his daughter." Grace smiled uncomfortably, wanting to like her younger sister but finding it difficult. She tried to remind herself of how impossible she'd been at thirteen, but it didn't make Vicky any more appealing.

"Probably," was all she said, and she walked back outside, though she did follow Vicky's advice and enter the pool house, which she had to admit was gorgeous enough practically to be someone's residence. There was a pile of sun block bottles on a chest of drawers, and Grace covered herself rather liberally in the SPF 45.

She swam a quick lap in the pool, but soon the vigorous strokes gave way to leisurely floating in a floating rings she'd found. It was true bliss, she thought, to be lying in a gorgeous, private pool on what was shaping up to be a hot day, the heat radiating down on her body, with nothing to do. All her worries about her dad and his family, her mom and her family, and what-the-hell was going to happen to her managed to drift out of her head into the cool water. It was perfect. Well...not quite perfect. Perfect would mean Ryan floating next to her, or maybe getting her one of those blow-up rafts and then getting on it with her...or, thought Grace with a laugh in her head, getting it on with her...

"Hey, big sister," said a boy's voice—Jim, not Cal—and Grace opened her eyes.

"Hi, Jim," she said with a lazy smile. "Do you guys get to do this every day?"

"It gets boring after awhile," he answered, giving her a bemused grin. "But, yeah, it's fun just lying in the pool every now and then. Listen, I need to go to Summer's, and I was wondering if maybe Dad left you the keys to one of the cars."

"Can't Summer pick you up?" she asked, puzzled. "Isn't that what she did yesterday?"

"Yeah, but she just got her nails done, and she said there's no way she's going to drive all day."

"Really?" asked Grace interestedly. "I liked her nails. What color did she do them?"

"I have no idea. Anyway, Grace, did he leave you the keys?" She nodded.

"The Mercedes, he said. Not that I know which one that is," she added with a laugh. "I wasn't planning on driving it, but I could take you to Summer's if you want." Jim looked rather impressed.

"The Benz? Dad's only ever let me drive the BMW," he said with surprise. "It's older," he explained as Grace got out of the pool and began drying off with a towel she'd found in the pool house with the sunscreen.

"I don't really know the difference," she admitted, wringing out her hair. "They're foreign and they're expensive—and even that I only really know because Ryan, my boyfriend, thinks cars are fascinating." She put on her shorts but decided it was too hot and her hair was still too wet to put her shirt back on. Anyway, when she and Summer had been out shopping, she'd noticed plenty of girls in only bikini tops, and no one seemed to mind.

"Come on," said Jim. "I'll show you the parents' cars, or at least the ones that are here. There are four total, all German, but they're all different makes and, more importantly for someone who doesn't know much about cars, different colors." She picked the keys off the table on which she'd left them and followed him to the garage. He pointed to a black sedan with silver lettering. "That's the Mercedes. It's a 1999 E320, and mostly it's Mom who drives it, although not as much since she got her new car."

"It's four years old; how much newer can it get?" asked Grace incredulously.

"Correction; it was bought in the summer of '98, so it is five years old, and Mom currently drives an '04 Audi A6, blue in color with tan leather seats. Very nice car," he understated, "although personally I prefer Dad's '01 911 Carrera—that's a Porsche, of course," explained Jim, as Grace's face still registered uncertainty. "It's red, and men who drive red Porsches pay particularly high insurance, especially when, like Dad, they have a penchant for speeding, so according to the insurance company, it's Mom's car. The BMW 740i is a '98 and therefore the oldest car. It was originally driven by Dad, although not for long, because he didn't like it all that much. As you can see, it's green. So there you have it, the famous Cooper Car Collection," he finished with an I'm-not-taking-myself-all-that-seriously-grin. "Since Dad left you the keys to the Mercedes, I guess you'll be driving that one." Grace gave her brother a rather shell-shocked look. Four recent-model foreign sports cars for only two people who could drive?

"All right," was all she said, though, and she uncertainly got into the driver's seat of the Mercedes. She'd never driven anything near as luxurious as Kirsten's "old car," and she was a little bit nervous, but her father had given her the keys, so she adjusted the seat, checked the mirrors, and buckled her seatbelt. It's just a car, just your father's car...that is, your stepmother's car...No, just a car, just a car; you have permission. She put the car into reverse and backed away from the beautiful grounds.

"So...um, where does Summer live?" asked Grace once she'd pulled the car into the road.

"Not far away," Jim responded. "Thanks for doing this, Grace." He hesitated a moment. "You know what she said yesterday, that I should've been a sophomore but Mom and Dad pushed to get me into our grade?" She nodded. After barely a day and a half with the Coopers, she fully understood that any school would rush to do their bidding, not that Dad and Kirsten were mean or pushy or anything. There was just something about them—it was mostly Kirsten, she could admit—that was clearly in charge.

"Well, I mean, they thought it was best for me. But...it kind of sucks to be a full year younger than some of the kids in my grade. Sometimes I wonder why they did it, you know? I guess it's because I'm the oldest, but...eh. It's not that I get teased or anything; it's just that...you know..." He couldn't seem to come up with the words he wanted, but Grace understood.

"Parents," she agreed. "Sometimes they hurt you the most when they think they're doing what's right for you."

"Yeah. Turn left here," he instructed her, and she put on her signal.

"Jim?"

"Yeah?"

"What are they like, really? Dad and Kirsten, I mean. Because I haven't really had a chance to—you know, get to know them." He paused thoughtfully.

"They're good people, and I'm not just saying that because they're my parents," he started. "Mom really wears the pants in the family, you know, and Dad likes it better that way. She wants everything to be just right, and yeah, I guess she's still a little bit spoiled. She's always been Grandpa's favorite—I mean, she chose the wrong college, but she married the right guy and went to work for Grandpa, so I guess she made things up there." Jim shrugged. "Dad...is a little bit more happy-go-lucky. He wants things to go Mom's way, too. I definitely never had to worry about my parents fighting or whatever," he laughed, "because whenever they disagree, Dad kind of defers to Mom. He's put her on a pedestal for as long as I can remember. I guess that's strange, but—all right, make another left, and then go straight until you get to number sixteen—it's strange, but pretty much everyone puts Mom on a pedestal around here. I definitely don't envy Vic for having to be her daughter." Grace nodded. She could tell that her father doted on his wife, and Vicky had certainly conveyed the fact that she was tired of having to be "Kirsten Cooper's daughter." Grace was beginning to realize that the Newport Beach people were essentially the people she'd known her whole life, only given much more money and very different priorities.