After that, conversation centered mostly on the New Year’s Eve party, their upcoming ski trip and what the conditions on the mountain would be like, and plans for a big retirement party for John in the spring, which would coincide with Cloverleigh’s fortieth anniversary. Whitney stopped studying me and mostly stared at her plate, but every now and again I couldn’t help noticing her watching the way Sylvia smiled at me, or put her hand on my arm, or paid me a compliment. Despite how delicious I found all the food, it was a little hard to eat under such intense scrutiny. I could practically hear the wheels turning in Whitney’s head.

Eventually, I set down my fork. “Everything was delicious. Thanks so much for inviting me to eat with you guys.”

“You’re always welcome here, Henry.” Daphne smiled at me, and then at her daughter. “But this was all Sylvia.”

“It was nothing.” Sylvia rose to her feet and started collecting plates. “I’ll get the dishes if you guys want to get started on the telescope.”

“Yes!” Keaton threw his napkin onto the table. “I’ll show him where it is.”

* * *

Although the directions that came with the telescope were terrible, I managed to get it set up in under an hour. Keaton was desperate to take it outside and test it out, and since it had stopped snowing, we piled on our winter stuff and brought it out onto the patio, which was blanketed in white.

My knowledge of astronomy was decent because my grandfather had always been interested, and he had taught my brothers and me about the major constellations when we were young. Later, I’d studied it a little at Cornell. I’d forgotten much of it, but Keaton didn’t seem to care—he was eager to hunt for anything I suggested might be visible tonight, and asked a ton of smart, curious questions about each star or planet I pointed out.

Sylvia joined us a couple minutes later.

“Is it working?” she asked, sliding the glass door shut behind her before shuffling through the snow in her unlaced boots.

“Yes!” Keaton shouted. “And Henry says I might be able to see an interstellar comet!”

“Wow.” She laughed, her breath escaping in little white puffs, and looked at me. “Is this true?”

“It’s true. Some guy discovered it in August and it’s supposed to be closest to Earth this month. They call it the Christmas Comet.”

“And how do you know this?” she asked.

I shrugged. “I’m part science nerd, remember?”

“And he showed me where to find . . .” Keaton looked at me for guidance. “Pegasus?”

“Perseus,” I corrected.

“Perseus,” he repeated. “Come and look, Mom. I’ll tell you where it is.”

Sylvia bent forward and looked through the lens. “Okay, what am I looking for?”