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beyond the pants, if you know what I mean.”
    “We’re opening our own studio in Hera soon so we don’t have to keep driving to Woodstock for classes,” Eleanor adds. “Oh! I just thought of a name for our studio, Lois. Beyond The Pants!”
    Lois and I both laugh. Imogene and Lauren give each other shrugs. They are used to this type of banter among people who are more like family than friends. I’m not. My parents are both uptight prudes who found their soul mate by seeking out the only other person in the tri-state area that was born without a sense of humor. My family doesn’t hang out and laugh. We argue and debate. Rather, my mother and father argue and debate with me, their only child; the kid who is supposed to live up to all of their expectations.
    After several hot and heavy stolen kisses from Dylan earlier and the laid back sassiness of these women, young and old, I am very comfortable in their company.
    I’m not a big drinker since I’m not of the legal drinking age, so the half glass of wine I drank is making me tired as well as unbearably aware of my proximity to Dylan and his muscular leg, which he has conveniently positioned against mine. It does not go unnoticed by the others when he rests his arm across the back of my chair as if we are a couple at a dinner soiree.
    Archie briefly glances at Dylan with a raised eyebrow. “I think we’ve had time to get to know Jessica. It’s probably time we talk about how she got here,” he announces.
    The letter from Aunt Ginny is still sealed in the ivory envelope. It is now damp from my sweaty hands having clutched it in my lap all through dinner. I rest the letter on the empty place setting before me as Imogene voluntarily walks around the table collecting dirty dishes.
    “Ah, would you like to read that alone?” Archie asks me.
    “I’m not sure.” I look around the room at everyone.
    “If it helps any, Ginnie was not the kind of person that liked to surprise people. She was always very direct. I don’t think there will be anything unusual in the letter. It’s more like a goodbye message,” Dylan says.
    Archie clears his throat and Dylan glances at him.
    “I mean, it’s probably a ‘Hello, Jessica’ letter, ‘Welcome to Hera’,” Dylan redirects. His thoughtful attempt to ease whatever sad blows I’m expecting is touching. I’m becoming alarmed at how easy I’m falling for this cute guy because falling for such males is not in my genetic make-up. I come from hard-driven people with an unforgiving view towards the sentimental.
    “I’ll read it now. You were all her family, so it seems appropriate that you hear it, too.”
    A loud crash, a banging door and something heavy falling to the floor comes from the front entryway and disrupts our silence.
    “Sweet Jesus!” Lois exclaims.
    “Shit.” Dylan stands abruptly and his chair falls back and clatters to the floor.
    We all scurry to the front door to see Carson standing there with a drill box at his feet.
    “No wonder you didn’t answer your phone. You’re already here,” he speaks angrily to Dylan.
    “Carson, what are you doing?” Archie asks. It sounds like he’s trying to be as soothing as possible to calm Carson down.
    “Dylan and I have been working on the library at night. You know I have a day job,” Carson hisses to everyone, but then he looks at me. “So you’re staying here?”
    “We didn’t say we were working tonight. Besides, Jess is staying here, so we have to change our hours back to days. She’s not going to be able to sleep through the drilling and pounding,” Dylan says before I can answer Carson’s question.
    “Carson, do you ever stop working? Honestly, you need some Zen,” Lois tells him while Eleanor and Lauren nod in agreement.
    “Huh?” Carson grunts.
    Other than the same tall muscular physique from hard labor and an inherent handsomeness, Carson doesn’t really resemble Dylan. His serious blue eyes against his dark hair, sculpted cheekbones