"Bigger on holiday drinking parties," Weiler responded, tilting his face up. It wasn't sunny but it was bright, the sky that faded gray color that was indicative of winter. "I didn't come home often from boarding school, but everyone went home during the end of the year. It was nice to see my family after a long while like that, but when you're a kid, your parents always seem the same to you. You don't notice them getting older, growing tired, the way you do when you've got a little bit of age on yourself."

They reached an area where the houses gave way to a flat expanse of rolling plain, hills that led up into higher ones. In warmer seasons, it was covered with well-cared-for and often-mowed grass, but in winter, only the dry, pale yellow remnants of it crunched under their feet as Weiler pulled them through the gate and up a path.

"It wasn't a bad childhood," said Weiler, eyes ahead on the road. "I had everything I wanted, and you could tell that they tried. It was probably just...a little different than what you were used to. I just thought that since it's been a while and I've seen your family, that maybe you'd want to see mine, at least once."