"Oh, California! I know California, a little." The Inn, to Xavin, was not really California. Not really. "I lived for a time in Los Angeles - La Brea I think - and then later in Malibu."

Xavin's lean turned, briefly, into a hug. "I am certain your mother would still like you best. You are her child, and I am a strange girl who is sometimes a boy." Or a strange boy who was sometimes a girl. Either way.