They had been generous and loving. When he had been so unexpectedly thrust upon them, they had sold their apartment in Boston and moved to a small town in hopes of providing their only grandchild with a semblance of the country, a neighborhood school, and friends. He loved and missed them. They would like this street, this little town, and the couple across the road.

Instinctively, he waved to them, and they waved back. Then the woman rose, walked across the road and up the steps, and introduced herself as Hannah, one of Amelia’s housemates. She invited him inside.

The smell of cookies transported Ben to his childhood home and to his mother, with whom he had baked cookies on Saturday afternoons. For a moment he stood silent, missing those days.

The woman in the kitchen did not resemble his tall, slender mother. Grace was short and somewhat stocky. The pattern on her apron was a rampage of red, yellow, and purple flowers. Flour smudged her nose, and he felt as if he had known her forever.

“I hope you brought your camera,” Grace said. “It’s beautiful here, and there are lots of pretty people.” She laughed, stepped forward, and hugged him. “Welcome, Ben Mercer. We’re happy to have you in our home. Come now, Hannah, let’s show Ben his room.”

Ben followed the women. Grace chattered. Hannah was silent as they rounded the staircase and made their way down a short hall to a green room with a large bed and a splendid view of hills and forest. Outside the window a dozen bird feeders attracted a variety of birds.

Grace pointed to the rocker. “I sit and watch the birds. I’ve left several bird books on the table, if you’re interested.”

“I don’t know much about birds,” Ben replied. “But I’m interested. Thank you all so much for allowing me to stay in your home, in this charming room.” He wanted to ask where Miriam was and when he would see her.

As if reading his mind, Hannah said, “Miriam teaches, you know. She ought to be by here soon. She’s probably stopped to pick up Sadie. Usually Amelia gets her after school, but Amelia’s in Asheville setting up a photography exhibit for her partner, Mike. Why don’t we leave you to wash up? Make yourself comfortable. We’ll be in the kitchen. Join us when you’re done.” And they were gone.

Ben walked to the window. What was that startlingly blue bird? He could recognize a jay, but this was no jay. It was smaller and a brilliant blue. He knew little of birds or animals in general. He had buried himself in technology. His challenge in going to the workshop in New Mexico had been to open himself to nature. Amelia and Miriam had unwittingly helped him to do this.