I handed the bag to my half sister. Vanessa descended the stairs and embraced me. I held her—not too tightly, I hoped. The moment I touched her, to my great shame, but not my surprise, all the feelings I’d thought I’d outgrown came flooding back. The passage of time, her remoteness from me, her marriage, my life in San Miguel—none of these had dimmed my infatuation in the least; it had lain dormant in me like a seed stirred to life by the coming of spring.

As I let her go, she let her arms slide down mine and grasped my hands. On her left ring finger she wore a platinum band and a large diamond engagement ring.

“Congratulations,” I said.

“You don’t say ‘Congratulations’ to the bride, Charlie,” Vanessa said. “You say ‘Best wishes.’”

“I missed that day in cotillion class,” I said.

“I’m just teasing,” she said. “I don’t think very many people remember those little rules. Only people like my mother care about that stuff. Isn’t it funny how someone so rude could make such a fuss about manners?”

Dolly tugged on Vanessa’s elbow.

“Look,” she said.

She held up her hand, dangling the little heart necklace from the ends of her fingers.

“Would you like me to put it on for you?” I asked.

Dolly nodded. I knelt and unfastened the clasp and lifted the silver chain over her head. She turned around, beaming.

“Do you like it?”

She nodded.

“What do you say, Dolly?” Arch asked.

“Thank you.”

Dolly broke away and ran to Arch. He scooped her up into his arms and held her, kissing her on the cheek.

Envy: it seems sometimes to be the greatest and deadliest of my sins.

Arch set Dolly back on the ground. She grasped his hand and looked at me.

“Want to see the ponies?” she said.

I caught Vanessa’s eye.

“Charlie needs to see Mommy first,” Vanessa said.

“Will you come with me?” I asked Dolly.

“Are you afraid?” she asked.

“A little,” I said. “But I won’t be if you’re there.”

I glanced at Vanessa. Her eyes were wet.

“Is it okay if Dolly comes in with me?” I said.

Vanessa wiped her eyes and nodded.

“I’ll show you the way,” Dolly said.

She took my hand and led me into the house, past the Audubon bird prints in the hallway and through the warm den with its great stone hearth, up the two flights of stairs and past my old bedroom. The door was shut; I imagined its walls painted a pale pink. The door at the end of the hall stood open. My sister pulled me along, straight into the room, so that it came to me all at once: my mother, curled up in the bed, and Jim, seated in a straight back chair pulled close to her so that he could hold her hand.