Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 92996 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92996 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
“I hugged you when I got in bed,” JJ interrupted, “but you didn’t hug me back ’cause you weren’t awake.”
Walking over to JJ, I bent and squeezed them tight, which made them giggle. “I’m sorry, JJ, you know I love your hugs. I never want to miss one.”
“I know,” they told me.
“Uncle Xan,” Toby said, sounding annoyed, “I’m waiting.”
“For what?”
He huffed out a breath. “I want to know what you were doing that made you forget about the farmers’ market.”
“It’s a long story.”
He nodded. “Okay. Make your tea and tell me all about it.”
The hot coffee Amanda was drinking went down the wrong pipe, but even that didn’t stop her from laughing. “Man, does he have your number.”
I went to get the kettle, but it was gone.
“I filled it,” Toby told me, and I saw it was already on the stove.
“Thank you, buddy.”
He sat down at the table and patted the chair beside him. Clearly, I was not getting out of explaining myself to a child whose diapers I used to change.
After the inquisition, Toby was mollified by my explanation about his uncle Lorne, the chief of police, being called to a crime scene, and me needing to stay up late to help him. I overslept, and that was the extent of my transgression, and he forgave me because he loved me. And the farmers’ market hadn’t been that great anyway. There were no cherries at all, which were his favorite. As he watched, I made quick work of my egg bagel with strawberry cream cheese that JJ had lovingly smeared for me.
“Did you let Lorne leave without his protection spell this morning?” Amanda asked me.
“No. Apparently, I got out of bed like a zombie and performed my little ritual.”
“Good,” she said softly.
Every day, I walked with him to the front door, carrying my salt cellar and my jar of cinnamon. Once there, I sprinkled salt on the floor, made him stand on it, walked around him and
asked for protection for the protector, ending with blowing a bit of cinnamon over him that I’d pinched out and placed in my open palm.
“People always say I smell so good—clean with a trace of cinnamon,” Lorne had mentioned the day before.
“Maybe people shouldn’t get so close that they’re smelling you,” I’d replied sharply, glaring at him.
His grin in return, as always, nearly made my knees buckle. I had it very bad for the chief of police.
“I remember that spell,” Amanda noted, smiling at me. “Your grandfather used to cast a similar one on both of us before we left each morning.”
“Yes, he did.”
“I miss those things,” she murmured.
So did I.
Amanda and I sat and talked as Toby walked around in the sunroom, looking through drawers, unscrewing the lids of jars, smelling the contents, and sometimes removing something for closer inspection. He was curious, and I liked that. JJ was on the couch with Argos, reading him a book the cat seemed to be enjoying.
When it was time for the town-hall meeting, I told Amanda to go without me and I would keep the kids. She seemed relieved with that arrangement, as her husband was playing golf with clients, and if I went to the meeting, Toby and JJ would have had to attend as well. I was certain Eddie’s parents would have loved to spend time with their grandchildren, and Eddie was gently pushing Amanda to let them, but she wasn’t there yet. It stemmed from their insistence on calling JJ Julia, and wanting to dress them in gender-affirming clothes. The concern with Toby was that he never stopped talking and that every word out of his mouth was a question. Eddie’s parents were not, Amanda insisted, a good fit for her children without either she or Eddie in attendance. Me, she could simply leave, as she did at a quarter to one.
Once she was gone, the three of us went outside and stood in the wind, arms open, letting the breeze blow any stagnant energy off us. I always felt better afterward.
“I like listening to the windchimes,” Toby told me, and after a moment, I noticed him staring at me.
“What?”
“Mom said that lady you didn’t like died last night.”
“She did. Your mother’s right.”
“Are you sad?”
“Honestly, I’m not sure how I feel about that yet.”
Toby nodded. “I understand. Sometimes you have to sit with your feelings. That’s what Mom always tells me to do.”
Amanda had been very smart. She’d gone to counseling and worked hard to heal herself before she became a parent so she wouldn’t put any of her past trauma onto her kids. “Your mother’s a very wise woman.”
Toby nodded, and I looked over at JJ, who was picking things for me in the yard—dandelions, St. John’s wort, sprigs of lemon balm, mint, and a few petals from a rose.
“I don’t like Brick in my class,” Toby said, “but if he died, I might be sad. I’m not sure.”