Julia slithered down the trunk of the tree to lie on the blanket she'd spread out. Her book laid across her stomach she stared up into the maze of branches, leaves and life. Before her eyes was the complexity of the world and still just one family. Branches and leaves signifying marriages, children, grandchildren, cousins. Some branches crossed others, intertwined; only a few were solitary. Then the two dead branches, alone, without leaves ready for the groundkeeper to trim any moment. 'Am I one of those branches, not dead but the lonely? I never wanted to be so alone. I rarely admitted that and once I did, it was twisted to bind me.' Julia rose up on her elbows. She could not see below the cascade of tree branches and leaves whose tips touched the soil. Almost an impenetrable layer between her and the outside world but by tilting her head to make use of the small portal she used to enter this sanctuary between the grasping branches, she spied another solitary figure nearing. He moved slowly, without his cane. Unusual that he didn't have it. In fact, he was without his very-British overcoat. It was an odd picture, Barnabas without all his accoutrements. Julia spied his halted step, looking about lost in thought. 'I was right to separate myself from him. If I was smarter I'd have left altogether.' But with a preternatural sense she rarely exhibited, Elizabeth Collins pounced on Julia soon after the adventures of 1840 (of which Elizabeth knew nothing).

"You are one of us, you know that don't you?"

"You all are very kind-" Julia stammered when personal affection was shown.

"We are more than kind. I feel I must make this very plain Julia, and I know how you hate expressions of affection but I'm going to say it anyway. You are like the younger sister I never head. Roger feels the same. Collinwood is your home regardless of anything or **anyone** else." There was not a note to be missed. Similar sentiments were expressed by the others in their little family. And as if to cement it, Elizabeth hired a decorator and told Julia to redo her room and the adjoining one (as a personal study) any way she liked. Of course Julia stayed with the house's overall tone but did enjoy installing floor to ceiling bookshelves in her new study, drapes and some tapestries to cut down the chill and a better lit vanity in the adjoining bathroom. Furniture she'd had in storage during her years at Collinwood, pieces belonging to her family, were now installed in her rooms. It might've seemed logical for her to leave. Logic being her guiding light in the past but the truth of the matter, she'd been embraced by this family and it was distressing -even the thought of returning to her solitary life. Eating alone, reading all the time, not hearing stories ranging from the absurd to deafening doldrums (anything about the cannery caused her to yawn). These moment in the lives of others was irreplaceable to her now. It was family, something she'd had only for a short time in her life.

Only once did it cross her mind that Elizabeth was magnanimous because it was plainly evident Julia would never be moving into the Old House.

"Julia?" Barnabas uncertain voice called. David said Julia liked to read underneath this tree but there was no 'underneath'. The branches sprouted from the top then cascaded down to the ground wrapping around themselves and forming a barrier about its trunk. He walked about the perimeter. The foliage was so dense he could not see into the cavern created by the wild branches and leaves. But David had insisted this was the tree, pointing from his bedroom window. He stopped upon hearing something faintly non-natural, a stifled sneeze? He put one foot in front of another moving about the trees circumference. This tree had been here nearly a hundred years. He could tell. The diameter of the outer branches clutching at the ground must be at least 100 feet. He halted before a small parting of the branches, this was a pathway, he could see its recent use in the soil. Pressing his head in between the opening, he saw Julia before him. Underneath the aged branches of this tree, below a canopy of its green leaves, on a patchy area amidst the brown of several hundred fallen leaves she rested back on her elbows legs stretched out toward him. She stared directly at him. "Did you not hear me calling?"

"Yes." She tilted her head watching him part the branches and enter her sanctum. He stood looking at the area beneath the branches. The ventilated enclosure reminded him of a womb? A cave? There were a few low branches but generally he could stand his full height and not risk a goose egg. There was an unexpected amount of space all about them. But still it was comforting, cool and relaxing.

"This is enchanting." He smiled noting that she did not.

"Do you need something?" Her tone was neutral. Her position unchanged. Barnabas noted the book on her lap, her sweater bunched up as a pillow, her shoes tossed aside, the thermos and box of crackers. She had been here for a bit and she did not appear ready to leave.

"No." He gestured for space on the blanket next to her. She acquiesced with a nod and blink. After unbuttoning his own jacket and laying it aside, he lowered himself down next to her. "Has this been your spot for long?"

"No." Her chin touched her chest. She did not raise her eyes to his but rather picked at things fallen onto her skirt from above.

"Julia are you still angry with me?"

"Still?" A light guffaw. Normally she would pretend, it was easier. But today, tomorrow and all the days of the last year, she had simply been too tired, too worn out by their traipsing across the decades. No more pretenses, please she cried inside. That was why she simply stepped away, away from his sphere, his circle, his solitary company. She was only comfortable and sure of herself when others were around. Should they find themselves alone she knew her lips would let loose all the anger of the past few years.
And they both knew it.

"You have reason, I just wish to know if I can be forgiven."

"Again?"

This was not easy for him or her. Oh, she forgave often enough, he asked for it plenty but this time it was different. There was nothing to distract them from the pain inflicted and no longer avoided. They never discussed their feelings for one another. But now it was time, it could no longer be ignored. "Yes, again, one last time."

Julia sat up, pulling her knees in and wrapping her arms about them. "Don't say 'one last time' I'm sure there will be other occasions." Her weary head lay atop her bent knees. Barnabas could not help but sigh and reach out to touch her hair. He'd not seen how exhausted she was. The absence of an enemy left her without something to push against. And so she was finally aware and had succumbed to melancholy and fatigue.

"A bitter truth." She did not pull away as his finger lightly caressed her brilliant red locks. It was finer that he would've thought, soft like a baby's hair. Her eyes were closed, her breath taken in measured steps. His fingers tried to impart many things in this small intimate activity. 'Can you forgive me? Do you still love me? Because I do love you though I've never said it, rarely acted like it. I'm sorry I am blind to my own deepest needs. I'm sorry that I all too often ignore yours. I didn't ask you to love me but I'd be lost if you were not here. Oh please love me again.'

"That feels nice." She said after several minutes of quiet enjoyment. No one had touched her hair like that since she was a girl, hiding underneath another tree nursing an earlier heartache.

Chapter 3