Chapter 29
Boris
I make chili con carne and bake bread to go with it. That way, nothing needs to be prepared, and we can simply heat the food when we get back. Or they can, if Simon is unwilling to invite me in for dinner again.
Small steps.
I don't think I'm about to die anymore. It could change again, I'm well aware, but I held him yesterday, hugged him, snuck in a quick kiss, and while not reciprocating, he didn't object.
If you were opposed, you objected, right? So I'm hopeful.
When Simon goes to get Ira, I wrap the bread in a kitchen towel and place it on top of the Dutch oven I've made the chili in. Then I wait.
It doesn't take as long today before they're back, and I hurry over the street when they turn in on the driveway. Ira beams at me when he climbs out.
"Hiya, bud. How was school?"
"Boring."
"Boring? Why?"
He sighs, and I do my best to hide a grin. So dramatic.
"We had basketball in gym class."
"Oh...I see." I don't. Basketball is fun, isn't it?
Simon gives me a small smile, and my heart speeds up. "What about you, Simon. How was your day?"
"It was...eh...good."
I smile sweetly. "Why?"
"Why? What do you mean why?"
I give Ira a wide-eyed look and shake my head. "I mean, what made it good?"
"Oh...I don't know."
"Doesn't sound like a great day to me."
Ira snorts and heads for the front door.
"I said good, not great." Simon's mumble is adorable, so I bump him with my shoulder and almost drop the bread. Fuck.
"Let's get going. Mom said she'll have an afternoon snack ready for when we come."
Simon pales, and I shake my head. Poor thing.
I follow Ira inside and put the food in the kitchen. "Are we ready to head out?"
Simon fidgets. "Maybe I should...eh...stay here. Heat the food for when you get back."
I wrap him in my arms. "No. You're coming with us." He tenses, and I can scent the nerves on him.
"Boris, I don't know if..." He gives me a pleading look, and I don't care about Ira being there. I kiss him. It's a soft, soothing kiss. Simon sighs into it, and I want to holler my victory.
"Come on. Let's get going." I usher him toward the hallway and motion for Ira to follow. He doesn't need prompting.
"Get your booster seat, kiddo."
"We can take my car." Simon reaches for his jacket.
"Nah, we have all the cookies in mine." And I don't want him to waste gas on going to Rutchester. I may have contributed most of their food these last few weeks, but I still haven't managed to get my hands on any of Simon's bills.
Simon looks like he's about to protest but gives me a nod.
Soon we're on our way. The weather has grown milder again, so I don't have to worry about slippery roads.
When I turn off the highway, I notice how Simon grows tenser. I wish I could take away his nerves. Mom can be vicious when she needs to be, but she'd never do anything to make Simon feel uncomfortable.
When the gravel road comes into view, I take it. We ride in silence for a few minutes, then I glance at Ira in the rearview mirror. "Look out the window on your side and see if Atlas' painting was right."
He does, but of course, it doesn't look like Atlas' painting. It's November. The garden looks pretty depressing. There are a variety of kale plants, but that's about it. No flowers, no overflowing garden beds.
"It's the same fence."
"Sure is." I turn in on the driveway and park next to the chicken coop as always. Mom steps out on the doorstep and watches us as we exit the car.
I wave, then open the trunk to grab her order. Ten packs. Jesus. Though I'm grateful she's willing to support Ira.
I jog up the stairs, hug her with one arm while trying to balance the cookies. I inhale her scent and know I'm home, know I'm safe, know I'm loved. It's what I want Simon to know too. I want him to know deep in his bones that he's safe and loved.
"Mom, this is Ira." I gesture at Ira, and she pulls him to her before he has a chance to understand what's happening.
"Sweet boy." She kisses his hair. "I've been waiting so long to see you. A lifetime almost."
My eyes burn, which is stupid, but for so long it's only been Mom and me, apart from the pack, of course. But I've always known she wants more.
Ira gives her a shy smile, and she straightens only to pull Simon into a hug. His eyes widen so fast I can't help but smile.
She kisses his cheek. "And there you are."
"Eh...hello, Mrs. Gifford."
She snorts and squeezes his shoulder. "Maia, please."
Simon nods and shoots me a stunned look.
"Come inside." Mom gestures through the open front door, but grabs half the stack of cookies from me before she walks in.
It smells of freshly baked bread from inside, and my stomach rumbles.
"No problems on the road?" Mom glances at me over her shoulder.
"None. Dry roads and no wildlife."
"Good. Zahrah stopped by earlier."
"Yeah?" I kick off my shoes and usher Ira in front of me into the kitchen, where Mom has set the table. Bread rolls, cheese, cold cuts, veggies, and fruit. I put the cookies on the kitchen counter. "What did she want?"
Mom frowns. "Photograph the chickens."
"What?" I don't think Zahrah has ever photographed chickens.
"Yeah, she said something about needing something different for her shop." Mom waves a hand in the air.
"Did you see the photos?" Ira is watching her with big eyes.
"Eh...no."
"Oh." He looks disappointed, and I can't help but chuckle.
"Ira is a huge fan of Zahrah's work."
Mom smiles. "You should visit her at her home. There are photos everywhere."
Ira sends me a hopeful look, and I nod. "We'll visit once we're done with all the cookies."
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