Then Xander turned, sensing her nearby, and his smile made it all disappear.
“Good morning. I hope you’re hungry, we’ve got enough to feed a battalion.”
His parents turned then and she saw where Xander got his dark good looks—he was the spitting image of his father, but with a more sensual mouth and slightly lighter hair, sable instead of jet, compliments of his blond mother.
Sunshine couldn’t have been more aptly named; she radiated a warm happy glow. She rushed over and enveloped Sam in a hug.
“Welcome, welcome! We are so glad to have you here. I’m so sorry we couldn’t wait up last night—I’m afraid once ten o’clock rolls around we are both out cold. Farmer’s hours. We tried to stay awake but we both nodded off. You found the clothes, good. Yellow thought the burgundy would look nice on you, and she was right.”
“This is one of Yellow’s dresses? I love it. Very comfortable.”
“It’s yours now, and there’s plenty more where that came from. If you’re not wearing sustainable yet, we’ll get you fixed right up. We have everything, clothes to toiletries. Once you try Yellow’s soaps you will never go back to that nasty manufactured stuff. No wonder the world is—”
“Sunshine,” Xander cautioned. “Hold the politics for five, would you? Let the girl eat in peace.”
His mother laughed, a musical tinkle that made all four of them smile. “Oh, Moonbeam, she already knows what we believe in. I’m sure you’ve told her all the horror stories.” She turned to Sam and whispered, “Don’t believe a thing. He’s such a man.”
Roth shook Sam’s hand and politely gestured for her to have a seat. He was stiffer than his wife, a little more formal, not quite the free spirit. “It’s good to meet you, Samantha. Moon has spoken of you often. You’ve made quite the impression on our boy.”
Xander blushed and rolled his eyes, which made Sam smile more.
The three bustled around for a moment then joined her at the table with a mountain of food.
“I hope you don’t mind eating clean, Sam,” Sunshine said. “We grow everything here, so there’s none of the pollution most folks eat. It’s all fresh, no preservatives, so no inflammation for your skin and bowels, and after a few meals with us, your system should regulate itself and start healing from the inside. You’re going to feel better, sleep better, everything.”
How could she say no to that?
“It all looks delightful, Sunshine. Thank you.”
And it did. Buckwheat pancakes, sunny yellow eggs with fresh butter and herbs, lean bacon, and more of the thick dense wheat bread from the night before.
“I will admit, I expected you to be vegans,” Sam said.
Roth fielded her statement. “A fair assumption, considering. But we can eat meat with no guilt, since we shoot it and skin it and cure it ourselves. We know the animals are treated humanely. Our bodies are meant to eat rich proteins, that’s one of the places we get the balance of nutrients. People who don’t eat meat need supplements, and that’s a much less natural state of being. We understand you’re a widow.”
“And your poor babies,” Sunshine added, reaching over and settling her hand over Sam’s own. “We were just devastated when Moonbeam told us. You are quite an admirable woman, Samantha. A lesser one would have given up. I lost a child between Moonbeam and Yellow, I have had a glimpse at that abyss. You have our deepest respect.”
“Sunshine, Roth! Please.” Xander looked about ready to explode. He nudged Sam’s leg with his in apology, and she squeezed his knee to say it was fine. She’d rather someone be honest and forthright with their questions than dance around her issues forever. This way, the sting was briefer, like a wasp that bumbled into your forearm and had no choice but to react on instinct. At least they hadn’t said something stupid and hurtful, like you can always try again, or what about adopting? As if children were cereal boxes on a store shelf, just waiting to be plucked and scanned and taken home.
“It’s fine. Thank you,” she said, and that was all that was needed. There was a moment while everyone took a few bites, recovering, then Sunshine began again, on seemingly safer ground.
“So Moon tells us you were the one who identified the toxin in the D.C. Metro attack. Have the authorities gotten a sense of who committed the crime yet?”
“I honestly don’t know. I need to call my friend and see if they’ve made any progress. Was there anything new on the news this morning?”
Xander smiled through his pancakes. “No television, hon. Or internet, or wireless signal, or 3G. There’s a radio but it broke years ago, and someone doesn’t want a new one.”
Roth smiled indulgently. “Too much noise, son. The local NPR stopped playing classical and went to talk format during the day anyway, so what’s the point?”