Chapter 26

Julian

Even the all-powerful Roslyn can only hold the neighbors off for a day before everyone demands to greet Cricket for themselves. We spent most of that time sleeping and eating and then sleeping again.

A feast has been arranged in his honor, which turned Cricket's cheeks bright red when he learned as much, and I still don't think he believes it, even though we're on the way there right now.

The largest of the neighbors' barns serves as the location. As we approach, Cricket tells me of the time Hopper and he once won first place in the community's talent show in this barn with a juggling routine they'd made up themselves.

"You can juggle?"

"You can't?"

I hold up my hands with their prominently missing fingers. "Machete accident. I hate jugglers."

He smacks me. "Stop it."

"Never."

I'm glad to have lightened the mood. It's obvious he's nervous. He's been worrying the skin around his nails and can't sit down without jiggling a foot or a knee. I asked him what's the matter, but he either doesn't know or doesn't have the words to voice his fears.

As we arrive, a young boy wriggles out of the arms of a woman—his mother, I assume—and races full speed toward us.

"Cricket, Cricket, Cricket, help!" He's maybe five or six years old with a full head of red hair and skinny legs working as fast as they can to cover the distance.

"Help what, Button?" Cricket kneels and opens his arms.

The boy slams into him and knocks them both over. The mother and two other women jog after him.

Button, if that's this youngster's real name, has a red face and wet eyes like he's been crying. "I got a splinter."

"Is that all?" Cricket stands him back up in front of him. "You had me worried. I thought it was something really bad."

"It is really bad," he says in the way only a small child can argue and make it look cute.

"Show me."

"Sorry, Cricket," says the woman. "Button, you're hogging him. Everyone wants to say hi."

"Everyone doesn't have a splinter." Cricket smiles at the young lady. "Hiya, Holly."

"Welcome home, Bean." She ruffles his hair. "You've been missed."

Button is holding out his finger for inspection, and sure enough, a tiny brown shard is buried in the pad. "Hurts."

"He won't let us take it out," says Holly. She offers me a smile. "Kids, you know?"

I don't know, but I return the smile anyway.

Cricket hefts Button onto his hip and introduces me to the small group. The word "boyfriend" drops so casually from his lips, like it's perfectly normal to call me that, for me to be that to someone, to Cricket, I'm left quite breathless.

Luckily, the others carry on chatting and catching up while I walk along as if my entire world hasn't just rotated on its axis.

He's called me partner before, but for some reason, it didn't sink in until now in front of his entire town as they spill out of the barn to greet him.

I could have a place here with him if I wanted. It's what he wants. A boyfriend, a village, a community.

A life together.

Cricket is beaming at me as if he's reading my mind and thinks I'm funny. He probably is. And he probably does. It would be just like him to laugh at my grappling with this concept.

That seer was right after all.

There's only one, and only the one will do. A coin will guide you.

It wasn't the coin I needed to find.

It was Cricket.

He is my one.

We settle around a table as if I'm not currently experiencing my life's greatest epiphany. Someone has procured a needle to dig out the splinter, which Button insists only Cricket can do without hurting him.

"I'm sure your mama can do it too," says Cricket.

"No, you," argues Button, bottom lip pouted out like a sad little puppy.

"All right, all right." Cricket turns to me. "Would you mind making some extra light for me?"

Oh, magic, yes. I could do that. I add a nice bright white light over the child's finger so Cricket can see what he's doing. I do this without thinking, but seconds later, the thinking hits like a summer storm, fast and hard.

I never perform magic around others. Never know what they might think. What they might want. Yet I've just revealed myself to about three dozen people with a total lack of hesitation simply because Cricket asked it of me.

Wow.

"Thanks," he says as if it's nothing and gets to work.

I turn away. I really do hate needles. But the little boy is brave, and Cricket works swiftly, and in no time, the dreaded splinter is removed, and all is right with the world.

"Who wants presents?" Crickets flings his bag off his shoulder as all the children squeal, "me, me, me."

As the stolen toys are distributed among tiny hands, I smile to myself. Such a sweet thief he is. Considerate for a criminal.

I suppose I shall have to keep him.

The hours pass by quickly. I meet everyone and promptly forget all their names. I'm usually good at that sort of thing, but meeting so many people at once is a challenge. They are kind when I have to ask for their names a second time to commit them to memory.

Cricket calls me Jules, so after a few drinks, several townsfolk call me that as well. I like it. We eat. We drink. We dance.

I twirl Cricket around the floor while someone plays a lively tune on a stringed instrument I don't recognize. I dance with Roslyn, then her granddaughter Flora while Cricket spins Holly until they're both taken over by a fit of giggles.

At one point, Roslyn leans over to Cricket. "Hopper would be so happy for you."

Cricket beams.

When it's getting a little too late and we've both imbibed a little too much, he returns to my arms, even though the music has long since stopped. We sway together along with three other couples not yet ready to end the festivities.

I kiss his cheek, but he turns to capture my lips instead. My face heats. I'm embarrassed to be so affectionate like this in front of other people, but if he's comfortable with it, then so shall I be.

As the party winds down, one of the older farmers, Jopson, takes Cricket by the elbow. "Time to go home, lad."

Cricket's expression comes alive with confusion. "We're staying at Roslyn's."

"Not anymore, you're not." A twinkle lights his eyes as he pats my back. "You too, Jules. Come on home."

What?

We leave the barn with Jopson and his wife, their children, and various cousins trailing behind. Holly and company wave good night. Roslyn and her granddaughters left hours ago.

It's late, a beautiful night, with clear skies and stars sparkling as we walk along the sandy road past the first farm and take a left.

"No," says Cricket. "You didn't."

"Yes, young man. We finished the repairs last month. It's been waiting for you ever since."

Cricket clings to my arm, emotions spilling over. He sniffles and wipes his face on my shoulder.

The house is sage green with white shutters and trim and porches on both sides. Fresh paint. New roof. A small garden is tilled in the front. An old swing set has become a makeshift banner holder for a hand-painted sign that reads "Welcome Home, Cricket!"

He's frozen at my side. "This was our house before…well, before. When I left, it was in disrepair. Practically unlivable."

"It's all ready for you inside too," says Jopson. "Provisions, fresh bedding, new rugs and curtains. Holly sewed them for you. Everything you need. Maybe you'll stay put for a while this time, eh?"

Cricket glances up at me, big brown eyes getting wetter by the second. "Yeah?"

"Yes, if you like. Absolutely."

His grin says that's the answer he wanted to hear, which is good because it came straight from my heart.

"Yes, Jopson, thank you. Maybe we'll stay put for a while, indeed."