"What are these little green leaves?" she asked, avoiding the dream analysis.
"Parsley," Faith told her serenely, turning to sit by the table again. "I grew it myself. I grow everything I eat with my own hands. That way I can be sure I'm not polluting my body."
Charity groaned, then remembered Ross. Her gaze swept up to survey his reactions. His face was expression less, so she couldn't tell exactly how he was taking this.
How else could he take it but badly? A wave of hopelessness crashed over her.
Faith was a total flake. Her whole family was a bunch of loonies. Who was she trying to kid here?
Ross was bemused, actually. He'd heard about Faith, knew she was going to be some sort of fading hippie, but now, presented with the real thing, he wasn't sure what to think of her.
She was beautiful in an ethereal way, but her eyes were blank, crystal clear and lacking any evidence of rational thought. Too many visits to the moon for this one, he thought cynically.
"Listen, my friends," Faith was saying, smiling be nignly. "I want you to meet Doris and Charity. Both were once a part of my single-family unit when I was young. Before I joined the family of mankind and foreverness."
She casually waved a hand.
"This is Mandi," she said, in dicating the young woman with the bobbed hair. "She's searching for her past identity. I hope you'll all be patient with her and help her in her search." She turned to the young man. "And this is W.A."
W.A., the intense man with beady eyes, wore sweat pants and a large white-polyester blouse with huge sleeves. He stood and bowed formally.
"How do you do?" he said stiffly, pulling at his hair with a nervous hand, as though he were worried it might not be wild enough. "I've searched your entire place and can't find the piano."
Charity blinked. "I don't have a piano."
He turned toward Faith, stricken. "No piano!"
"He was once Mozart, you know," Faith informed them seriously. "In a former existence. He must have a piano. He's constantly composing."
"Composing!" Charity choked, rolling her eyes heavenward.
Ross tightened his grip on her arm. "Better that than decomposing," he muttered near her ear. "Be thankful for small blessings."
He turned to Faith. "I've got an elec tronic keyboard at-" he stopped himself just before he said the word home and substituted quickly "-at my of fice. I could have it sent over first thing in the morning. Would that help?"
"Enormously." Faith favored Ross with a slow smile, her silvery eyes glinting. "But who are you?"