“True enough,” Brous said. “I’ll tell you another story you’ll find amusing. When I was in college, I brought my girlfriend to the carriage house and she was amazed we had so much living space there. I was afraid to take her up to the main house after that. I figured she’d stop being impressed with me.”

“Was she?” Hart asked.

“No,” Brous said. “She became unimpressed with me for other reasons entirely.” He switched the car to manual, led it up the rest of the driveway and stopped at the front door. “Here you are, Hart. The entire family is inside, waiting for you.”

“What would it cost for you to drive me back?” Hart joked.

“In a couple of days I’ll do it for free,” Brous said. “Until then, my friend, you’re stuck.”

*   *   *

“Ah, the prodigal spaceman returns,” Brandt Schmidt said. He, like the rest of the Schmidt siblings, lounged on the back patio of the main house, watching the various children and spouses on the front surface of the back lawn. Brandt came up to Hart to give him a hug, followed by Catherine and Wes. Brandt pressed the cocktail he had in his hand into Hart’s. “I haven’t started on this one yet,” he said. “I’ll make another.”

“Where’s Mom and Dad?” Hart asked, sipping the drink. He frowned. It was a gin and tonic, more than a little heavy on the gin.

“Mom’s in with Magda, fussing over dinner,” Brandt said, going over to the patio bar to mix himself another highball. “She’ll be back presently. Dad’s in his office, yelling at some functionary of the Phoenix Home Party. That will take a while.”

“Ah,” Hart said. Best to miss out on that.

“You heard about the latest elections,” Brandt said.

“A bit,” Hart said.

“Then you’ll understand why he’s in a bit of a mood,” Brandt said.

“It doesn’t help that you continue to needle him about it,” Catherine said, to Brandt.

“I’m not needling him about it,” Brandt said. “I’m just not letting him get away with revising recent electoral history.”

“That’s pretty much the definition of ‘needling,’” Wes said, laconically, from his lounge, which was close to fully reclined. His eyes were closed, a tumbler of something brown on the patio itself, by his outstretched hand.

“I recognize I’m telling him things he doesn’t want to hear right now,” Brandt said.

“Needling,” Catherine and Wes said, simultaneously. They were twins and could do that from time to time. Hart smiled.