“It’s almost scary how many of them there are,” she said.

“I lost track.”

“I wonder what would make her do that,” said Meredith. “They seemed like a nice enough family.”

“Dad said trouble would find them anywhere.”

“Like Jean Valjean.”

“The Vonns are more complicated than a novel.”

“Oh.”

She stood and looked down at him. Her long red coat showed up clearly in the dark and Andy would never forget that color. Like there was some special light on it. Behind her the sky was dizzy with silent meteors.

“Don’t hold it against me,” she said.

“Hold what?”

“That I’m not ready and you are.”

“I know it’s different for you.”

“How?”

“You lose something.”

She nodded almost imperceptibly and the breeze lifted her fine golden hair. One wing of her red overcoat collar had come up and stayed up, which gave her a slightly disorganized look. Her hair shined more brightly than it should have. More of that special light. Andy felt his breath catch in his throat.

“Then don’t bully me, Andy.”

“I’m sorry. I won’t.”

“I love the falling stars. I made a wish on every one. A whole lot of them for us.”

“I made some for us, too.”

5

THE BECKER BROTHERS all made it home the day before Thanksgiving. David flew into L.A. from San Anselmo’s School of Divinity near San Francisco. Nick and Katy drove over from their place in Santa Ana near the jail, where Nick worked. Clay and a new friend, Eileen, came down from the Army Language School in Monterey.

David had the idea to invite the Vonns to Thanksgiving dinner. Because it was the Christian thing to do, he said. Because he had visited and ministered to them and they were in shock and pain. David had changed since San Anselmo’s. A new confidence in himself and his calling, a neat new mustache.