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her.
    “I don't see why not. Do you want to try and copy mine? Or would you rather do a sailboat? I can sketch one for you, if you like.”
    “I can copy the ones in your painting, if that's all right.” She didn't want to put him to a lot of trouble, which was typical of her. She was used to being cautious not to make waves or cause problems. She had always been careful with her father, and it had served her well. He never got as angry at her as he did at Chad. Although most of the time, once they lived in a bigger house, he didn't pay much attention to her at all. He went to an office then, and came home late, and traveled a lot. He had even learned to fly his own plane. He had taken her up in it several times when he first got it, and even let her bring the dog, with Chad's permission. And Mousse had been very well behaved.
    “Can you see from down there?” Matthew asked, and she nodded, from where she sat near his feet. He had brought a sandwich to the beach with him, and unwrapped it. He had decided to eat lunch on the beach that day, in case she came by at lunchtime. He hadn't wanted to miss her, and he offered half the sandwich to her, from his perch on his stool. “Are you hungry?”
    “No, thank you, Mr. Bowles. And yes, I can see very well.”
    “Matt will do.” He smiled at how polite and formal she was. “Did you have lunch?”
    “No, but I'm not hungry, thank you.” And then a moment later, as she sketched, out of nowhere came a bit of information that surprised him. It was easier talking to him while she wasn't looking at him, and was intent on her sketch of the boat. “My mother never eats. Or not very often anyway. She's gotten very thin.” It was obvious that Pip was worried about her, and Matt was intrigued.
    “Why is that? Has she been sick?”
    “No. Just sad.” They went on drawing for a while, and he refused to pry. He figured she would tell him as much as she wanted to, when she was ready. And he was in no rush to press her. Theirs was a friendship that seemed to float in space, independent of time. And he felt as though he had known her for a long time.
    And then finally, it occurred to him to ask the obvious. “Have you been sad too?” She nodded silently, and never raised her eyes from the sketch. And this time he purposely did not ask why. He could sense painful memories wafting around her, and he had to resist an urge to reach out and touch her hair or her hand. He didn't want to frighten her, or appear inappropriate by being overly familiar. “How are you now?” It seemed a safer question than other possibilities, and this time she looked up at him.
    “I'm better. It's been nice at the beach. I think my mom is better too.”
    “I'm glad to hear it. Maybe she'll start eating soon.”
    “That's what my godmother said. She worries about my mom a lot too.”
    “Do you have brothers and sisters, Pip?” Matt asked her. It seemed a safe question to him, and he was totally unprepared for the look in her eyes as she turned her face up to him. The look of sorrow in her eyes seared him to his very soul, and nearly knocked him off his stool.
    “I…yes…” She hesitated, unable to speak for a moment, and then she went on, still looking at him with those sad amber eyes that seemed to draw him into her world. “No…I mean sort of… well, it's hard to explain. My brother's name was Chad. He's fifteen. Well…he was…he had an accident last October.…” Oh God, he hated himself for asking her, and now he understood why her mother was so devastated and wasn't eating. He couldn't even fathom it, but there was nothing worse than the loss of a child.
    “I'm so sorry, Pip.…” He didn't know what elseto say.
    “It's all right. He was very smart, like my father.” And what she said next nearly finished him and explained everything. “My dad's plane crashed, and they were both… they both died. It exploded,” she said with an audible lump in her throat, but she was glad she had