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dark look.  I couldn't really blame him at the moment.
     
    "Let's see it!" Aubrey said, eager and kindhearted.
     
    "Without Rafael?" I reminded him.
     
    "Oh.  Right..."  Aubrey slouched, but straightened his shoulders in the very same breath.  "Show us at dinner, then!  Ah, just think, there could be a little Gives Light-St. Clair baby in there...  Erm, wait a minute, did Rafael ever change his name?"
     
    Southern Shoshone are matrilineal; the kid always takes the mother's surname, and generally the father does, too.  "Wait," I said, catching on.  "Are you calling me a woman?"
     
    "--Anyway, we're done here, so let's head back inside!"
     
    I shook my head and pretended to take a swing at him.  We dropped our tools off at the shed and went inside the house for a quick drink.
     
    "You'll give them a baby, but not me?" Holly At Dawn said sourly.  She was Daisy's twin sister--there was no mistaking their curved falcon noses and their wavy ringlets--and Zeke's fiancee.  In Nettlebush, we only get married during autumn, part of an old superstition we borrowed from the Paiute.  These two had four long months ahead of them.
     
    I rolled up my sleeve and glanced at my wristwatch.  "I think I'm going to check on Dad," I said.
     
    Reuben nodded politely.  "Tell him hello from me," Serafine said, and "Fine, I didn't want you around here anyway," Holly said.  Holly's definitely a pleasant girl.
     
    Racine and Dad lived on the other side of the lake, in a low, two-story house with a nice view of the shore.  I can still remember when Dad built the house years ago, his shy, roundabout way of asking Racine to stay with him.
     
    I knocked on their door--I probably should have showered first, I thought--and two seconds later, Dad faced me in the doorway.
     
    He looked haggard.  He looked far away.  His eyes were out of focus.  He barely seemed aware that I was facing him.  At least until he rubbed his eyes.
     
    "Cubby?"
     
    "Hi, Dad," I said quietly.  I made sure to smile.
     
    He shook his head with disbelief.  "I still can't believe you're talking again.  After all these years...  You don't know how much I missed your voice."
     
    I knew.  I knew because I had missed it, too.  Just the simplest things--exchanging pleasantries with a friend, telling a family member how much I loved them--the simplest things were a Heavensend.
     
    "I just wish Granny had been around for it," I admitted.
     
    A small silence passed between us, carried on the summer breeze.
     
    "I'm sorry I wasn't here for her passing," Dad said, closing his eyes.
     
    "Don't be," I said gently.  "Granny understood.  She always defended what you've done.  And she didn't die alone.  She knew she was loved."
     
    Dad sat down on the parched lawn outside his front door.  I sat with him.
     
    "I don't know," he admitted, his voice very quiet.  "Not about that.  I mean...  I don't know that she felt loved by me."
     
    I was somewhat surprised at the turn this conversation was taking.  Was Dad talking about his feelings for once?  I didn't want to discourage him, so I didn't interrupt.
     
    "We never quite got along," Dad mumbled.  "Ever since Julius died..."
     
    Julius was Dad's little brother.  Uncle Julius had died as a five-year-old, more than forty years ago.
     
    And I still didn't know how Uncle Julius had died.  There had been an unspoken rule, growing up, that we didn't talk about him.  Or about my mother.
     
    I placed my hand on Dad's arm, carefully.
     
    "We were playing," Dad said.  "Julius and I.  There's a grotto out in the woods; I don't know if you've ever seen it...  And the most beautiful willow tree."
     
    His profile betrayed none of his heartache; his hands were folded, but his fingers were shaking.  His fingers had been shaking ever since we brought him home.
     
    "I thought he was annoying," Dad said.  "You know how kids are...  He loved me, and he tagged around after me like he was my shadow.  I