“Daughter?” said Davis. “Since when do you have a daughter? Don’t you need a wife for that?”

Ben smiled. “Had one of those too,” he said. “It was a long time ago.”

“How old?” asked Davis. “The girl, not the wife.”

Ben thought a moment. “Sixteen,” he answered.

Davis whistled. “Good luck,” he said. “I remember when mine were sixteen. Darn near killed them. What’s she like?”

Ben sighed. “I don’t know,” he said.

Davis shot him a glance.

“It’s a long story,” said Ben. “And I don’t have time to tell it.” He put his wet gear into the large plastic tubs he carried expressly for that purpose, laid his tank alongside them, and shut the door.

“All right then,” Davis said. “Guess I’ll be seeing you later.”

“Later,” Ben said, waving briefly as he got into the car.

He backed the car out and, nodding at Davis once more, headed for the park entrance. As he went up the dirt road toward the ranger station, he wondered what had prompted him to tell the ranger about Caddie’s arrival. He’d kept her a secret for so long, why reveal her existence now?

“They had to find out sometime,” he said to himself.

He looked at the clock. It was half past eleven. Carol had said she’d be in Monterey sometime after one. That gave him just enough time to get home, clean up a little, and be ready for Caddie’s arrival.

“Who are you kidding?” he asked aloud as he passed the ranger station and headed for the highway. “You’re never going to be ready.”

CHAPTER 2

“Could you please put that window up?” Caddie looked over at her mother. “Why?”

“Because I don’t need to air-condition the entire state of California,” her mother answered. The lines around her mouth were beginning to show again, the buttresses of Botox crumbling. Soon, Caddie knew, she would go for another treatment and her face would once more be wrinkle free and expressionless.

“I like the wind,” Caddie objected.

Her mother pressed a button to raise the window. Caddie countered by pressing her own button. The window stalled; Caddie wondered if perhaps she could start a fire by keeping the machinery inside the car door fighting against itself. Then her mother would be forced to stop, to turn around, to go back.

“Why must you be so difficult?” her mother snapped, jabbing at another button with a manicured nail.

The button beneath Caddie’s finger ceased to work, its functions deadened by the override on the driver’s side. The window slid up soundlessly, sealing the car off from the outside. Immediately, Caddie felt the artificial coolness of the air-conditioning slip its chilling arms around her. She shuddered and glared at her mother.

“If the Goddess wanted us to live in bubbles, she wouldn’t have created the outdoors,” she said.

Behind her sunglasses, Carol shut her eyes momentarily and tightened her grip on the Lexus’s wheel. She felt her skin slide over the bones of her cheeks. She knew it was slipping, like snow perched on the edge of a mountain. She would have to make an appointment with Dr. Karsegian when she got back.