Intensity

awkwardly and murmured an inadequate thank you. Her throat was suddenly so tight that she was amazed to be able to speak at all.
        Putting her arms around both Laura and Chyna, guiding them to the broad flight of porch steps, Sarah said, "We'll get your luggage later. Dinner's ready now. Come along. Laura's told me so much about you, Chyna."
        "Well, Mom," said Laura, "I didn't tell you about Chyna being into voodoo. I sort of hid that part. She'll need to sacrifice a live chicken every night at midnight while she's staying with us."
        "We only grow grapes. We don't have any chickens, dear," Sarah said. "But after dinner we can drive to one of the farms in the area and buy a few."
        Chyna laughed and looked at Laura as if to say, Where is the infamous Look?
        Laura understood. "In your honor, Chyna, all wire coat hangers and equivalent devices have been put away."
        "Whatever are you talking about?" Sarah asked.
        "You know me, Mom-a babbling ditz. Sometimes not even I know what I'm talking about."
        Paul Templeton, Laura's father, was in the big kitchen, taking a potato-and-cheese casserole out of the oven. He was a neat, compact man, five feet ten, with thick dark hair and a ruddy complexion. He set the steaming dish aside, stripped off a pair of oven mitts, and greeted Laura as warmly as Sarah had done. After being introduced to Chyna, he took one of her hands in both of his, which were rough and work worn, and with feigned solemnity he said, "We prayed you'd make the trip in one piece. Does my little girl still handle that Mustang as if she thinks it's the Batmobile?"
        "Hey, Dad," Laura said, "I guess you've forgotten who taught me to drive."
        "I was instructing you in the basic techniques," Paul said. "I didn't expect you to acquire my style ."
        Sarah said, "I refuse to think about Laura's driving. I'd just be worried sick all the time."
        "Face it, Mom, there's an Indianapolis 500 gene on Dad's side of the family, and he passed it to me."
        "She's an excellent driver," Chyna said. "I always feel safe with Laura."
        Laura grinned at her and gave a thumbs-up sign.
        Dinner was a long, leisurely affair because the Templetons liked to talk to one another, thrived on talking to one another. They were careful to include Chyna and seemed genuinely interested in what she had to say, but even when the conversation wandered to family matters of which Chyna had little knowledge, she somehow felt a part of it, as though she was, by a magical osmosis, actually being absorbed into the Templeton clan.
        Laura's thirtyish brother, Jack, and his wife, Nina, lived in the caretaker's bungalow elsewhere in the vineyard, but a previous obligation had prevented them from joining the family for dinner. Chyna was assured that she would see them in the morning, and she felt no trepidation about meeting them, as she'd felt before she'd met Sarah and Paul. Throughout her troubled life, there had been no place where she had truly felt at home; while she might never feel entirely at home in this place either, at least she felt welcome here.
        After dinner, Chyna and Laura went for a walk in the moonlit vineyards, between the rows of low pruned vines that had not yet begun to sprout either leafy trailers or fruit. The cool air was redolent with the pleasant fecund smell of freshly plowed earth, and there was a sense of mystery in the dark fields that she found intriguing, enchanting-but at times disconcerting, as if they were among unseen presences, ancient spirits that were not all benign.
        When they had strolled deep into the vines and then turned back toward the house, Chyna said, "You're the best friend I've ever had."
        "Me too," Laura said.
        "More than that…" Chyna's voice trailed away. She had been about to say, You're the only friend I've ever had , but that made her seem so lame and, besides, was still an inadequate expression of what she felt for this girl. They were, indeed, in one sense sisters.
        Laura linked arms with her and merely said, "I know."
        "When you have babies, I want them to call me Aunt Chyna."
        "Listen, Shepherd, don't you think I should find a guy and get married before I start pumping out the babies?"
        "Whoever he is, he better be the best husband in the world to you, or I promise I'll cut his cojones off."
        "Do me a favor,