Now, as he looked at a copy of the book on the desk he wondered what it all meant. Five years after its publication, View of the Mountain seemed a failed attempt at self-expression. He was bemused by the fact that the book could be so successful with readers when he, its author, felt that it was not. Perhaps the two things had nothing to do with each other. He knew, too, that he was generally viewed as a successful, fulfilled man, but that he, Henry Jewell, felt something much less than that.
He and Thera had first lived in Reston in it's early idealistic days, when trees outnumbered people and cars. They eventually moved to upstate New York, to New England and then, after View of the Mountain, back to Reston where she found "just the right place." Henry hadn't wanted to return to Reston but acquiesced to Thera's wishes, as was his habit. He had since grown accustomed to the place but didn't feel at home. He wanted them to leave, but so far his efforts had been without conviction -- he hadn't even mentioned it to Thera. His thoughts went back to Thera's brother and the greasy hands that brought Thera and him together at Horn Motors in Herndon.
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