17. Epilogue

Epilogue

Floyd

Eight months later . . .

While Ollie and Jo cleaned up in the kitchen, Floyd and Effie were sitting on the floor across from each other in the living room with a chessboard between them. Even though it had only been a couple of weeks since Effie had taught Floyd how to play, Floyd was already becoming a bit of an expert, which seemed to bother both Effie and Ollie to no end, but in a playful sort of way. Floyd could kind of tell that they were having fun playing with him, even if he had nearly beaten both of them by now. Ollie said that he and Effie ought to try to soak up the victories while they still could because they wouldn't last much longer.

Furrowing her brow with what looked like intense concentration, Effie moved a piece.

"Remember, you ain't allowed to take that back," Floyd taunted.

"Stop it, Floyd," Effie chastised, one corner of her mouth turning up a bit, which told Floyd that she was fighting a smile. "I know you're just trying to scare me."

"Naw, never." Floyd moved his rook and captured Effie's bishop. "See."

"Am I supposed to feel better that it was a real warning?"

"Of course."

As Effie sighed, Ollie and Jo came back from the kitchen.

"Thank goodness," Effie said, pushing herself to stand. "I need a break from playing. Do you want to take over for me, Oliver?"

"I'm not really in the mood for a beating."

Floyd pouted. "Why won't no one play with me?"

"Let's play something we're equally talented at instead. Or, well, not equally talented, exactly, but something trickier for us to compare ourselves to each other." Ollie held out his hand to help Floyd up. "Music?"

Floyd took Ollie's hand. "I'd like that."

While Floyd tuned his banjo, Ollie set himself up at the piano. Josephine walked back and forth between them.

Effie asked her, "Which one do you want to learn first?"

"I can't choose."

Floyd had a feeling that Jo wanted to learn piano. Sometimes, he'd catch her sitting at the bench when she thought no one was looking, pressing on the keys real lightly, probably hoping that no one would hear her. He couldn't hardly blame her for wanting to learn piano. It was a real impressive-looking instrument, and Ollie played it so well. It was likely that Jo was afeared of hurting someone's feelings if she chose, especially if she chose Ollie. Jo had been choosing Ollie more and more often.

Many nights, she'd request for Mister Oliver to read her a bedtime story. Sometimes she'd pick him to play checkers with, too. Not only was Jo choosing Ollie a lot, but Effie had been spending a bunch of time with Ollie, too. Ollie had been teaching her a little piano here and there, and the two of them still really liked to play chess.

But Floyd wasn't bothered by none of this. It made him happy to see them take to Ollie so much. After the lonely life Ollie'd had, he needed to be chosen first sometimes. Or maybe a lot of times.

"Jo, you can sit with Ollie tonight," Floyd said, nodding over to him. "It's easier to share a piano than a banjo."

Jo smiled. "I can?!"

"Yup."

She ran over to the bench, but paused, and then whirled to hurry back over to Floyd. She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him. He squeezed her back.

"Go on," he said, releasing her.

For the whole next hour, Floyd and Ollie played songs together. Or sometimes Floyd and Ollie and Jo, with Jo being responsible for hitting a couple of notes here and there, while Effie put her feet up and relaxed on the couch. Sometimes, Ollie looked over his shoulder and threw Floyd a wink, which was real sweet, and one time, Jo noticed and copied, which was even sweeter, though it seemed like Jo was trying to tease them.

Eventually, it was time for Jo to be tucked in, and this time, she asked Effie to read to her. Floyd and Ollie had to stop playing so they wouldn't keep her awake, but luckily, they had set up the new phonograph in the back room, on the opposite end of the house from Jo's bedroom, and if they closed the door, they could play some music without bothering no one.

After Ollie wound up the phonograph, which was a newer portable type that looked more like a wooden suitcase than a listening device, he came over to Floyd and took his hand.

"Come on," Ollie said. "Dance with me."

"Can't we cuddle up on the loveseat instead?"

"Nope," Ollie said, placing a hand on Floyd's shoulder.

At first, the two of them tried a Foxtrot, but Floyd still had some trouble not crushing Ollie's feet, and so, they eventually started swaying instead, resting their heads together and moving more slowly than the song called for.

"Feels more like we're trying to rock ourselves to sleep," Floyd teased.

"I like it," Ollie said, with a wistful kind of tenderness in his voice that made Floyd's heart melt a little.

Floyd hummed and said, "Yeah, it ain't bad, I suppose."

After a moment, Ollie said, "I'm so happy, sweetheart."

"Me, too."

Soon enough, Ollie was yawning.

"I think you were right about us rocking ourselves to sleep."

"Early morning tomorrow. We ought to head up soon."

Ollie shuffled his feet closer, positioning himself so that their bodies were nearly pressed up against each other, and said, "Just a little while longer."

"Worse comes to worst, I can carry you up the stairs."

"Don't try to excite me," Ollie mock-scolded. "We have an early morning tomorrow."

"Ollie, you keep me up late nearly every night with that energy of yours. I took your excitement into consideration already."

Ollie laughed next to his ear. "Are you poking fun of me?"

"Maybe."

"Lunkhead," Ollie said with an exaggerated scoff.

"Shut up, Ollie," Floyd said through a low chuckle.

After Ollie stopped swaying, he brought his face closer to Floyd's, pausing when their mouths were only a couple of inches from each other, and then, in the sweetest, most playful voice, said, "Make me."

And, of course, Floyd couldn't very well refuse. He captured Ollie's mouth in a passionate kiss. When the music finally faded, they broke the kiss at the same time, and then they were both smiling big, silly smiles at each other. Floyd could feel the happy energy in the room, like it was leaking out from their bodies.

"Ready for bed?" Ollie finally asked, still a little breathless.

"Yeah, bed ," Floyd teased.

Ollie squeezed his butt. "I can meet you upstairs, sweetheart. I need some water first."

"Go ahead," Floyd said. "I'll wait here."

After Ollie left for the kitchen, Floyd walked over to the phonograph to close it. Standing in front of the box, his eyes found the frame hanging nearby—the one with the Ollie coin and the Matt coin side-by-side—and took some time to enjoy the sight.

Nowadays, Floyd was able to talk about Matt more easily. Even though his heart still hurt from losing him, Floyd had found that keeping Matt's memory alive with stories was helping a whole lot with the pain. What helped even more was that Ollie and Effie and even Jo had started to mention Matt more often, too. Sometimes Ollie would pester Floyd for stories. Sometimes Effie and he would reminisce. These talks reminded Floyd that even though he had moved on from coal mining, even though he had made a new family for himself, he could breathe easy. Because Matt hadn't been forgotten. He never would be forgotten. He was still loved.

"Goodnight, Matty," Floyd said softly to the coin on the wall.

Seconds later, Ollie poked his head inside and strummed his palms on the doorframe.

"Coming up, sweetheart?"

"Yeah. Just talking to Matt."

"Oh." Ollie smiled sweetly. "Well, take your time, then."

"Nah, I'm finished." Floyd came over and caught Ollie by the wrist, pulling him close. "Want me to carry you?"

"God, yes."

So Floyd lifted Ollie up, and Ollie hooked his legs around Floyd's torso. Floyd couldn't resist balancing Ollie's weight in his left arm so that he could reach up and move his fingers through Ollie's soft yellow locks.

Ollie let out a peaceful-sounding sigh. "Let's head upstairs, sweetheart."

And then Ollie touched their lips together, and the only thing Floyd could think about was how lucky he was to have met Ollie—this beautiful person who had helped him face his long-buried pain; this sweet, silly man with whom he had fallen in love.

Oliver

Two months later . . .

Rocking back on his heels, Oliver knocked twice on Aunt Betty's front door. Moments later, she opened it, her typically stoic expression replaced with the faintest hint of a smile.

"Oliver," she said, and then she was smiling so wide her eyes were crinkling in the corners. "How was the circus?"

"Fantastic."

Josephine chimed in from behind him. "Aunt Betty, we saw a man flying through the air and another who made himself into a pretzel! And then we bought a pretzel, too."

"Oh my, that sounds wonderful," she replied, moving to the side.

Josephine bounded into the house, and Oliver could hear her fading calls of "Aunt Mary! Aunt Mary! We saw the pretzel man like Mister Oliver said we would!" Meanwhile, Aunt Betty welcomed Effie and Floyd with a short, warm embrace. When she turned to Oliver, she wrapped her arms around him, too, only it wasn't a short embrace, but a long one, one that was so heartfelt, so sincere, Oliver could barely hold himself together for it. After only a few seconds, his legs started feeling wobbly, as though they had been transformed into two noodles.

"I'm so happy you stopped by," she said as they parted. "It's always nice to see all of you together."

Oliver took a breath to compose himself. It still felt so foreign to receive that kind of physical affection from anyone other than Floyd (and maybe from Josephine, who had taken to sitting close with him while he read to her some evenings).

"Well, we love visiting," he said.

Effie remarked, "Josephine is real fond of Mary."

"Mary loves children. Especially your Josephine."

Aunt Betty led them into the library room where Josephine and Mary were starting to play cards. Floyd left for the kitchen to fetch everyone some club soda, which Aunt Betty and Mary often liked to serve, and Effie started browsing the bookshelves. Soon, Floyd returned with a large bottle of club soda and several small glasses on a tray.

Watching the scene, Oliver took a long breath, his chest expanding like every second of his new reality was filling him up with more love than he thought he'd ever have in a lifetime. He wasn't alone. Not anymore. None of these wonderful people ever made him feel bad for talking too much or making silly jokes or filling up half of a bedroom with his selection of clothing and hats. They loved him. And he loved them, too.

Josephine's voice broke through his overly sentimental thoughts.

"Mister Oliver?"

"Hm?"

"Did you really try to run away and join the circus when you were little? Aunt Mary said I made it up. But I remember you telling me that."

Oliver chuckled. "You're almost right. I can't blame you for forgetting the specifics. I think you were half asleep when I told you the story." He rocked back on his heels again. "No, I never ran away. I wasn't as brave as you, Josephine. Gosh, I still can't believe you snuck off to Charleston by yourself. On a train, too," he said with a playful wag of his finger. "Me, on the other hand, well, I was too scared to venture off of our property when I was your age, mostly because my parents forbade it, and so I started my own circus."

Mary raised both of her eyebrows. "Your own circus?"

"It's the reason I've mastered so many magic tricks. Magic was my special skill. I'm not sure if I had yet realized that magicians were a whole separate entity with their own shows and everything, rather than being circus performers, but well, I knew I couldn't be a lion tamer or a trapeze artist, and so I thought that coin and card tricks would be the next best thing."

"Who else was in your circus?" Mary asked, though from her tone Oliver could tell that she was only humoring him.

Oliver had noticed Mary often looked at him like he was some silly kid, which, he supposed, she wasn't entirely incorrect about in some ways.

"Oh, tons of people. I had the largest circus in Cleveland."

Jo's face was scrunched up in confusion. "Really?"

"Yes, but I'm sad to say that no one came to see us. Probably because everyone except for me was invisible." At that, Mary burst out laughing. Oliver could hear Effie chuckling nearby. He thought he ought to explain the silliness to Jo. "Get it? No one came to see us?"

Jo wrinkled her nose and said, "Mister Oliver!" though then she laughed a little, too.

Floyd came up beside him, his arms crossed over his chest, and cocked an eyebrow.

"Invisible circus performers?"

Oliver smiled and shrugged. "Oh, it's not that strange. Is it?"

"Only a little," Floyd said before whispering, "It's sweet, too."

Oliver's cheeks started to burn. It was incredible that Floyd's sweet comments could still overwhelm him sometimes.

Over the next few hours, everyone spent time together in the library—telling stories, playing cards, watching a few of Oliver's silly magic tricks—and then Oliver, Effie, Floyd, and Jo left to return to their farm outside Charleston, traveling by car. Oliver had purchased one not long after they had moved so that they could visit Aunt Betty and Aunt Mary more easily.

After they arrived, Effie and Oliver cooked some stew together (Oliver was becoming more proficient with cooking nowadays, which was perfect because he loved that some nights, Effie could take time to herself while he cooked instead), and then Oliver went out back to the barn so that he could feed his new cat, Colonel Whiskers II. He stayed out back to pet him for a little while and then went back inside so that he could have supper with his family.

Later that evening, once Oliver had finished reading to Josephine, he retrieved a book from the living room before heading back up to his shared bedroom with Floyd. He came in to find Floyd sitting up in bed playing with a nickel.

"Have you mastered that coin trick yet?" Oliver asked in a teasing tone, remembering that it had taken him days to master it himself.

"Yeah, I think so."

"What?" Oliver asked, inadvertently letting the door slam a little too loudly behind him. "No, you haven't. That's impossible."

"Why's it impossible? You were reading to Jo for nearly an hour."

"Yes, one hour. Only one hour." Oliver hopped on the bed. "Show me."

And then Floyd held up the coin, flicked his wrist, and made it disappear. Oliver's mouth fell open. He stared at Floyd with complete astonishment for about twenty fucking seconds before smacking Floyd's hand, causing the coin to fall.

"I can't believe you!" Oliver exclaimed. "How?!"

Floyd shrugged. "Wasn't hard, is all."

"Ugh."

Floyd flashed a smile, one that looked a tiny bit smug, before nodding toward Oliver's book.

"What are you reading?"

" The Brothers Karamazov by Dostoevsky." Oliver held it up for Floyd to see. "It's the one I never finished."

"Are you trying to finish it so you can have your revelation?"

"I'm surprised you remember that. Or, well, maybe I shouldn't be surprised since you can learn coin tricks in record time and memorize musical numbers after only hearing them once, which I am still unbelievably envious of you for, by the way." Oliver sighed. "But, no, I'm not reading it for the revelation."

"Because you still believe people can't be nothing but terrible?"

"Can't be nothing but terrible," Oliver repeated. "God, sweetheart, you're too perfect for words sometimes."

Floyd nudged him with his foot. "Ollie. Answer."

"Alright, fine. I'm not reading it for the revelation because I already had that revelation. Way back when I had supper with you for the first time. It was like you were serving my own words right back to me. I remember it so clearly. I was sitting with everyone at the table trying to hide the fact that it felt like my heart was being crushed in a vice."

"Or maybe squeezed by a snake," Floyd suggested with a little playful raise of his eyebrows. "How'd we serve your words back to you?"

"You were all so nice." Oliver rested his head against Floyd's chest. "Oh, Floyd, I can't believe I wasted so much of my life being lonely, thinking that everyone else in the world was probably horrible." He heaved a forceful sigh. "But it was only my family and their friends, I suppose, who were horrible. And, when I was small, the kids at school, too." Oliver craned his head to look up at Floyd. "Sweetheart, my silly story about the circus was true. I had a bunch of invisible friends. And now I have a real friend in Effie and a real Josephine—whatever she's supposed to be to me—and a real you."

"And you always will have us."

Oliver sat up to plant a soft kiss on Floyd's lips. "Thank you, sweetheart."

"I'm so happy you ain't lonely no more, Ollie."

"Me, too," Oliver said, turning to rest his back against Floyd's chest. He readied the book in his lap. "Do you want to read with me over my shoulder?"

"Nah, I'll probably be too slow since I'm so out of practice. How about you read the story out loud to me? That way, I can listen to that nice voice of yours."

"Do you want a long, rambling summary first?"

"Extra long and extra rambling," Floyd said before kissing the side of Oliver's head.

"Perfect."

So, Oliver spent the next chunk of forever talking Floyd's ear off. Every so often Floyd would nuzzle him or kiss him or thread his fingers through his hair, and Oliver never once worried that Floyd thought he was babbling too much. Finally, he had found someone who not only accepted his eccentricities but celebrated them.

Snuggled with Floyd in their farmhouse bed, Oliver finally knew what it was to be loved.