Chapter Seventeen
Corvus
Today was the Peach Blossom Festival, my mate’s first in-person event in Whisper Grove, and he was nervous.
He didn’t need to be. His work was stunning, and I wasn’t just saying that because I was his mate.
I understood what drew people to his pieces.
Magnificent, they were approachable and transcended styles.
They could be worn every day or used to dress up for a specific event. He was going to make a killing.
He got up before the sun and came out to work on some pieces.
I knew better than to interrupt him when he was like that, so aside from offering to get him something to eat, I let him be.
But now, it was getting close to the time when he had to stop and, at the very least, get ready with a shower and a meal. I had no choice but to interrupt.
Today was going to be a long one. The event might be listed as ending at eight at night, but people stayed until they were done. We’d be there until they were done, and that could easily be close to midnight depending on the weather and how easily the gossip was flowing.
“I’m making breakfast now,” I said. “I think it’s safe to say this won’t be ready for today.”
“It’s not for today.” Joshua pushed back from his work and waved me over. “I woke up after having a dream that I needed to create this.”
“That sounds ominous. What is this?”
“It’s for the baby.”
I looked down, and they were different strings, not that “strings” was the right word. As I looked closer, I saw the various charms and fittings, all of them found on this land.
“It’s for the window,” he said. “I thought they would like them, you know, a piece of their home from outside, in here.”
Some of the items had been left there for years, falling out of people’s pockets or scattered when a chain broke, but others were items I’d left for him.
I still did that.
My crow insisted I couldn’t just hand my mate treasures, although I’d done that, too. My beast loved nothing more than leaving shiny bobbles on the windowsill, so reminiscent of the crow he told me about from his youth.
He still talked about his childhood feathered friend and how he wished he knew more about him.
I couldn’t help but think that the goddess sent that crow to pave the way for me, so that when it was time, Joshua would accept who and what I was and allow me to walk by his side for the rest of our lives.
“It’s gorgeous. They’re gonna love it.”
“I think so too.” He got up and kissed my cheek. “I’m gonna take a quick shower, and then we can go.”
“No,” I corrected. “You can go take a quick shower, then you’re going to eat. Then we can go.”
He sighed. “Why are you like this?”
“What? Caring? Wanting to make sure that you’re healthy for our baby? Wanting to spoil you?”
“Yeah. Like that.” He stuck out his tongue. I loved this playful side of my mate.
He went to take a shower, and, as he turned into the bathroom, I caught a glimpse of his little belly bump. Gods, that man got sexier every day.
I made him an egg sandwich, one of the few things he was eating the past couple of days.
He didn’t have the nauseousness a lot of omegas had while pregnant, but his taste buds were definitely different.
There were times when all he wanted to eat was French fries all day long, or bananas, or cereal.
Lately, it had been egg sandwiches. At first, I worried that he wasn’t getting the right nutrition, but he reminded me that babies crave what they need.
I wasn’t really sure how much I bought that, but I trusted him, trusted that he’d do everything he could to give our little one what they needed to grow big and strong.
We arrived in town just as everyone was showing up.
I loved this part of small-town life, even if for many years I just saw it from the sidelines, sitting in a tree in crow form.
The way they came together to celebrate every little event had this place feeling more like a family than a typical community.
We’d practiced setting up Joshua’s table a few times at home and had it down pat. It only took a few minutes to have him all ready to go, with a box of extra pieces underneath in case he sold well. And he did. Really well.
I stood back and let him do his thing, making sure he had enough water and food. The event, filled with all of his favorite foods, reminded me of Home Days when he had some of everything. It was the first time since the first week of his pregnancy that I’d seen him eat a variety, and I loved it.
“I’ll take this one here,” Orly said, holding a necklace in her hand and running her finger across the silver. “This reminds me of one of the pitchers my grandmother had in her miniature collection.”
“I’m so glad it’s found a home.” My mate waved off the older woman’s money.
Orly insisted on paying, reminding my mate that he paid for his room and it was only fair he get paid for his goods.
It wasn’t the first time my mate had tried to give somebody his jewelry.
As far as a long-term business plan went, he probably should stick to events outside of our town, where he didn’t feel the connection to the people and the longing to give them the joy they felt when connecting to one of his pieces for the first time.
That was a conversation for another day, and it wasn’t as if we needed the money. I could take care of him. I wanted to take care of him.
I always understood that every piece told a story, and, as people came up to the table, one by one, I heard so many of them.
My mate was amazing, and, somehow, he was mine.
He ran out of most of his inventory long before the day ended, but we sat there till the last, chatting with people, eating delicious food, and enjoying a feeling of belonging.
My mate was becoming an integral part of this community without even realizing it.
When it was finally time to go home, I packed the truck up as my mate took his seat, exhaustion setting in. He fell asleep in the passenger seat and I drove us home, where I carried him straight to bed.
“Sleep well, mate.” I kissed his forehead. “I love you.”