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“How much has he told you about Oliver?”

That question had come from Amber, and she was wearing a necklace with that stone. She was laughing as if she understood that Gramps would have told me a lot about his favorite person in the world.

“I know that he’s an amazing musician,” I answered.

“I’m just all right. His opinion is swayed by the fact that he taught me to play the piano,” Oliver said. “He can’t stand the idea of failure.”

No, his opinion was swayed by a whole lot of love, but I let that go and tried to make myself unobtrusive so that they would stop asking me questions. I had planned to do what I usually did in social situations: sit quietly and observe. I had thought that they would be busy reminiscing and catching up, and they did…but they still wanted to talk to me.

“What brought you to Detroit?” That question came from George, and I remembered his name by recalling the monument to Admiral George Dewey that I had seen in San Francisco. They were both really thin.

“I like cities.”

They waited.

“I hadn’t ever lived in Detroit before so it’s all new to me. I like that,” I stated further.

“That makes it sound as if you’ve lived in a lot of other places,” remarked Sophia, who looked vaguely like the former queen of Spain.

“I’ve been around.” I nodded because they seemed to want more, but they still just stared at me.

“Kat, remember the hors d'oeuvres you got when you had Carmen over?” Oliver asked. “Can you help me plate them the same way?”

I could, so I followed him into the little kitchen. Out of habit, I looked at the faucet but he didn’t turn on the water. Instead, he opened the fridge and took out a tray with everything already arranged.

“You don’t need my help,” I said.

“No, but I wanted to get you out of there. I never saw anyone look more uncomfortable,” he said.

“Oh. It’s true, I’m terrible in groups,” I told him. “Also in one-on-one situations. I’m not good at making friends, not at all.”

“I don’t know about that. My gramps likes you and he doesn’t like anyone.”

“I like him, too,” I said, feeling better. “I kind of knew that it would go badly tonight because it always does when I try to meet people. They want to talk and I forget the rules of conversation.”

“What about Carmen Crusoe? You two went to a concert.”

“It was different.” I had to think for a moment to determine what that difference was. “I didn’t worry that she wouldn’t like me. I am worried about these people.”

“No, you shouldn’t,” Oliver said. “You’ll never have to see them again.”

That was worse. He would move and I would never see him, or his friends. “I guess not. I’ll probably head back downstairs.”

“No, let’s think of something else.” He looked at me for a second and then nodded. “Ok, the next time someone asks you something, start talking and then I will, too. If I don’t know the right answer, I’ll go off on a tangent about groundwater depletion. No one wants to discuss that with me and it will make them turn to something else.”

“Ok,” I said, nodding back at him. “That would work. I don’t want to talk about groundwater depletion, either.”

“See what I mean?” He offered the platter. “Want to do the honors?”

“Maybe I’ll wait to come out until they have their mouths full,” I suggested.

“Good idea.” He started to leave with the food but paused. “You never have a problem talking to me. You’ve yelled at me, too.”

“I thought that you were trying to bother me on purpose.”

“Now if I do, you know that it’s only by accident.” He held out the plate again. “Have some prosciutto before I go. I’ll think of a lot of uninteresting and depressing facts about pumping and the water table.”

I did take some prosciutto and maybe it was due to that dry-cured ham, but I felt a lot better. After a moment, I rejoined the party and that went better, too. He only had to go on a tangent about the decline of riparian vegetation one time, because I handled the rest myself.