Chapter Thirty-One Mo
Chapter Thirty-One
Mo
“Well,” Mo sighed as he parked his truck in the Folk School lot on Monday afternoon. He looked at Jess in the passenger seat. “Here goes something.”
“Yeah.” She sighed back, reaching for the door handle. “The moment of truth. Let’s go.”
The Faire was over, and Mo’s body hadn’t begun to recover from two days of blacksmithing and sensory overload. Part of him was joyful with Jess by his side, but the deep, metallic anxiety about the School was still there. Wendy had called the team for a meeting to discuss options before she went to the board. On the phone the previous evening, she had been very light on details. And while Mo knew that there had been a lot of people at the Faire, and it seemed that everyone had had a good time, he had no way of knowing if it had been the financial success they were counting on.
While it would be a shame in general to have gone through all that effort for nothing, it would be much worse for Jess to have gone through the struggle he’d witnessed if the Faire plan didn’t work out. She’d been majestic in the show he’d caught the day before, but she’d melted in his arms when he’d gotten to her house, emotionally drained. Grief was shitty that way—events and experiences that brought back good memories could also set off an avalanche of sadness over the impossibility of making new ones.
Walking through the parking lot beside her, he tried to pick up on her energy without asking. The evidence of the visitors struck him instead. The gravel crunching under his feet was significantly disturbed, the festooned path to guide patrons out to the field still in place, its green and purple flags hanging loose in the absence of a breeze. He could still hear the chatter of the crowds and feel their excitement. He stretched and rolled his shoulders a little, trying to shuffle off the energy all those people had left behind so he could focus on Jess. As they reached the building, she surprised him by sliding her hand into his. He stopped, looking from their hands to her face.
“Yeah?” he asked, shooting a glance at the door.
“Yeah,” she said. “Between the photoshoot and our stroll on Saturday, I’m sure everyone’s already made up their minds. Even if we haven’t openly said we’re together.” She looked at the door and then back at him. “I know privacy is important to you, though. What makes you feel more comfortable, Hephaestus?”
Skin tingling, he smiled. She hadn’t called him that in weeks.
“That everyone in the world knows that you’re m’lady,” he said, bringing her hand to his lips and kissing the back. Her cheeks tinged pink. She repeated the gesture with his hand and mimed a little curtsy.
“And I want everyone to know that you’re m’lord.”
He smiled, his heart beating fast.
“Off we go, then,” he said, leading her inside.
—
Guided by the smell of coffee, they found Lana and Doug at the table in the break room. Lana was blowing across the top of a steaming mug held in both hands. Doug was beside her, clacking away on his laptop. Lana grinned broadly as soon as Mo and Jess walked in.
“Hello, hello!” said Lana, standing and rushing over to squeeze their arms. “So,” she said, looking at their clasped hands. “Is it official? Can we all stop pretending like we don’t know?”
Mo didn’t do a good job of concealing his discomfort with Lana being Lana. Jess just sighed.
“All right, Lana, yes. Mo and I are together. Do you feel better now?” she asked.
“Oh, so much better,” Lana said, clapping her hands. “Isn’t this wonderful?” she asked, turning to Doug.
“Of course, Lana,” he said without looking up from his laptop. “Come, come, you two, sit down.”
“Wasn’t the Faire spectacular?” Lana asked. She launched into a lot of chatter that Mo just did not have the ability to pay attention to. He was doing his very best to stay calm because walking into the building had brought home the fact that if the Faire hadn’t been a success, he didn’t know what else they could do. He loved the Folk School too much to see it disappear.
As he sat down with Lana and Doug, Jess poured a cup of coffee from the maker. She picked up another mug and raised it in Mo’s direction to ask if he wanted one, too. He nodded and tried to smile. He realized he’d folded his arms. He took a deep breath, loosening them to rest his fingertips on the table.
“Guys, look at this,” Doug said, turning his laptop so that Mo could see the screen.
“People were posting about the Faire all weekend long. There’re even a couple of posts today,” he said, looking smug.
“Really?” Mo asked, nodding a thanks to Jess as she sat next to him, sliding him the mug.
“Oh, yeah,” Doug said. “I’ve been paying attention since the beginning. Hashtag MFSchoolRenFaire has been doing great. Everybody loved it.”
“Told you,” Theo said from behind Mo. He and Jess shifted in their seats to look at Theo as he walked into the break room. He’d come into the smithy once over the weekend, and Mo had been surprised that he’d gone so far as to change his hair for the event. He hadn’t changed it back.
“I knew it was going to be a success,” he said, joining them at the table and opening a bright blue energy drink.
“You’re still wearing your hair…style,” Jess said, raising her mug to her lips. Mo could tell that she’d tried to sound neutral, in spite of the laughter that was trying to escape.
“Yeah,” Theo said, grinning slyly as he finished his sip. “Haven’t been home yet. Made a friend near the end last night. She was into the hair.”
“Ah,” Jess said.
“The magic of a Faire,” Lana said, smiling. “You two weren’t the only ones who fell under its charms.” Theo’s face lit up as he followed Lana’s gaze to Mo and Jess. Mo didn’t want to get into it.
“People are talking about the Faire,” he said quickly. “But that doesn’t mean that it was a success.” He looked at Doug while turning the mug between his fingertips. “What has Wendy said? She was tight-lipped with…me.” He’d almost said “us” but didn’t want the others to continue on that path.
“She wasn’t very forthcoming with me, either,” said Doug. Jess squeezed Moe’s thigh under the table.
“I’m sure it will be—”
“Hey, everyone,” Wendy said, rushing into the break room, cutting Jess off. “How are you all?” Her smile was broad, and she seemed enthusiastic.
Maybe things aren’t bad.
“I have great news,” she said, taking a seat. She put her phone on the table in front of her. “To get straight to it, after all the expenses, we reached fifty-five percent of our goal.”
Mo’s stomach dropped. Fifty-five percent?
“How is that great news, Wendy?” Jess asked. “That’s not nearly enough.”
“It’s…perfect,” Doug said, creepy smile blooming as he leaned forward. Mo felt like Doug was about to high-pressure sell him a house infested with termites. “We’ve had so much good press, so many new student sign-ups. So many patrons asked when the next Faire will be. We can make it a twice-yearly event. During the summer and…at Christmas, maybe.”
“Billing it as a winter solstice event would probably sell better than Christmas,” Theo said. “Pagan is big right now.”
Mo wasn’t sure what Theo was talking about but couldn’t ask. A jittery charge had been building since Wendy announced the percentage. The idea of doing a Faire multiple times made blisters of heat bloom on his skin. Right then, he was wiped out after just one. He knew that he would be struggling at least for the coming week.
“Oh!” Lana said. “I would love for this to be a recurring event.”
“And we can make it bigger!” Doug said. “We could add things like a joust with horses and fire dancers and aerial acrobats and—”
“Those things cost money, Doug,” Jess said, cutting him off. “Both in paying performers and liability insurance, I’d imagine. We probably shouldn’t try to do too much too soon if there’s only ten percent wiggle room in the budget. Right?” She looked at Wendy.
Wendy was smiling broadly again. Mo began to worry if being out in the heat of the past two days had gotten to her.
“Well,” Wendy said, “that’s where the even better news comes in. We may have a new benefactor. Her name is Lindy Libet. She comes from a family well known for supporting the arts throughout the state. She and her friends visited the Faire both days; you might have seen her.” Wendy picked her phone up off the table, unlocked it, and scrolled a little bit. She held it up so that the others could see. Mo immediately recognized the masked noblewoman who had initiated the Princess Bride quotes with him after pegging him as Fezzik.
“Wait a minute,” Jess said. “I think Ned taught that woman to shoot at our stand.”
“She’s familiar,” Doug said, squinting at Wendy’s phone. He turned his laptop back, facing him, and started moving his finger around on the pad.
“I think…” said Lana, also squinting at Wendy’s phone. “Yes. I think that woman came to my stand. She asked questions about the School. Other people did, too, but she stood out because her dress was so well made. I saw her again the following day, and she was wearing a different dress. That one was even better. I didn’t recognize her until she stopped by to say hello. Even her masks were exquisite.”
Mo was surprised that someone would have visited more than once. The Faire had been small enough to see everything in one afternoon. But the more he thought about it, had he seen her more than once as well? He took a deep drink of his coffee as he flipped through his memories.
“Lindy approached me at the end of the day yesterday, as we were wrapping up,” Wendy said. “She wanted to know if we needed any financial help. She loves what the School is doing and what it’s bringing to the community. She wants to make sure that we can keep doing it.”
Mo wasn’t really sure how he would pinpoint the feeling that was growing in his chest. He would have attributed the racing of his heart to anxiety, or maybe the strength of the coffee, but he also felt calmed. Safe. He looked at Jess. She looked equally as surprised. And relaxed.
Well, glad I played along with Lindy’s joke rather than snapping at her.
“While I’m happy about the possibility of a new benefactor,” Wendy said, “I don’t want us to find ourselves in a difficult position again. So if you all agree, I’ll go to the board with a suggestion of two Faires a year plus Lindy’s help.”
Mo rolled his lips.
At least not a year-round stress.
“You all know I’m in,” Theo said, leaning back in his seat, arms crossed, looking satisfied with himself.
“Of course, I agree,” Doug said, attention back on his laptop screen.
“Don’t have to ask me twice,” Lana said. She looked expectantly at Mo and Jess. “Come now,” she said. “I know you two had fun.”
Mo wouldn’t have called it fun, precisely, but it had been satisfying. And beyond what he’d felt, the people who had visited had enjoyed themselves, too. The joy that had lit up the boy’s face when Mo said he could learn blacksmithing was exactly how he’d felt about rowing as a teenager. Then about blacksmithing later on. But it wasn’t just about Mo’s feelings. He glanced at Jess, sliding her thumb up and down the handle of her mug on the table. What if she didn’t want to go through that again? What if she couldn’t?
“I think it’s a great idea,” Jess said to Wendy, surprising him.
While the others expressed their excitement, and Doug began to talk about having a more significant role, Mo shifted down a little to whisper in Jess’s ear.
“Are you sure?”
She looked up at him, squeezing his thigh under the table again.
“For Cassie,” she whispered, winking at him.
—
Walking back to the truck, hand in hand again, Mo felt lighter but tethered in the very best of ways. The School would be okay. And in spite of the stress, he was okay. Better than okay. He was with Jess.
“Even though neither of us wanted to do it, I’m glad it worked out,” he said to her as they reached the passenger side of his truck. He opened the door for her.
“Yeah, me too,” she said, getting in.
He joined her in the cab and started the engine.
“Maybe Fezzik was wrong,” she said.
“I’m sorry?” Mo asked.
“Maybe people in masks can be trusted,” she said. “Especially when they come in and save the day.”
—
Friday evening, Mo stood at the sink in the now vacant workshop next to his own, soaping his hands. He had intended to give himself at least one week’s rest before returning to his anvil, but the seed of an idea had taken root Monday night, and on Tuesday afternoon he’d left work early to get started. While he’d never tried this sort of project before, it had come together in just a few days, with only minor hiccups. Rinsing and drying his hands, he glanced up at the broken mirror and smiled.
Here goes something.
He collected the carefully wrapped package from his workshop and walked briskly to his truck. The finishing touches had taken longer than he’d anticipated, and he was due at Jess’s for dinner soon.
—
As soon as Mo pressed Jess’s doorbell, a loud, yowling meow sounded on the other side of the door. Mo chuckled, grateful to release some of the low-level nervousness that had weakened his muscles, making it difficult to hold the gift across his forearms. Steinem yowled again.
“Hi, Steinem,” Mo said through the door.
He yowled again.
“I’m coming!” Mo heard Jess call out from somewhere deep in the house. Steinem kept yowling. Mo couldn’t stifle his laughter.
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Jess called out, her voice getting closer. “Goodness, Sty Sty,” she said as she opened the door. Steinem darted out and immediately wound himself around Mo’s legs. “I wasn’t moving fast enough, I guess,” she said to Mo, smile bright.
“I guess not,” he said, giving her a quick kiss as she waved him inside. He took a deep breath, his stomach grumbling to life. He’d forgotten about lunch that day, and whatever Jess had made smelled divine. “What’s for dinner?” he asked.
“Chili,” she said. “I did consider soup for Mr. Soup. But I thought that chili would be more filling. It’s soup-adjacent, though. It kind of works.”
“Oh, it works,” he said. Steinem meowed again, standing on his hind legs, stretching to paw at Mo’s leg.
“Um, you better give that to me,” Jess said, nodding at the package in Mo’s hands. “I think Steinem requires some Mo-love.”
Smiling, Mo handed her the gift and scooped up the cat. He burrowed into Mo’s chest and immediately began purring. Mo’s anxiety calmed but didn’t abate entirely.
“Can I open it?” Jess asked, smirking at him a little. Mo nodded and followed her to the couch. He focused on the softness of Steinem’s fur against his palm, the warm, vibrating weight against his body as he held his breath.
“Mo!” Jess gasped as she unwrapped the three wrought-iron roses. “These are beautiful.”
His cheeks heated and he glanced down at Steinem as his heart rate picked up in a good way.
“You made these for me?” she asked, marveling at them.
“I did,” he said.
“They’re incredible. The petals are so detailed. And the leaves…they even have thorns!” She ran her fingertips carefully over each one.
“Do you like them?” he asked.
“I adore them,” she said. She leaned in close to kiss him then went back to examining the roses. Even if she hadn’t said anything, the happiness flooding out of her was enough to put him on cloud nine.
“It was a little difficult to find the right thing,” he said.
“The right thing?”
He shrugged.
“To say what I wanted. I thought about something linked to Artemis,” he said. “You know, to go with Hephaestus.” She smiled at him, and he felt all tingly and shy. “But that didn’t really suit you. I thought about something else related to archery or the Renaissance.”
“Wait,” she said. “There’s a little pink stone inside each rose.”
He nodded.
“Rose quartz,” he said. “It was a symbol of love in Greek mythology.”
Jess froze, then looked up at him.
“Roses are also a symbol of love,” she said. He nodded again. “You’ve never given me roses before. You’ve always been careful about the meaning of the flowers you’ve given me. This time, you made me flowers that mean love.”
His heart thudding in his chest, he looked down at Steinem in his arms, caressing him slowly to gain a little courage. He drew a slow breath.
“That’s because—”
“I love you, too,” she said and launched herself into his arms.
There wasn’t a single way to describe the sensations that exploded through Mo. There was happiness and sparks and joy and a soothing wave. He wanted to simply bask, but everything was cut short by a loud yowl as Steinem shot up, pressing himself against Jess, forcing her to let go of them both. Laughter erupted out of her, and Mo joined in. “Okay, bossy,” she said to Steinem. “You’ve had your Mo cuddles. It’s my turn.” She scooped Steinem out of Mo’s arms and slid into them herself.
“I love you, Jess,” he whispered into her crown as their laughter died down.
“And I love you, Mo,” she said, squeezing tight. “So, so much.”
Mo closed his eyes and inhaled, filling his lungs with vanilla, as he melted into peace and calm and “safe.”