His Kind of Home

by Hollis Shiloh

  "But…oh." Jack nodded, understanding suddenly. Petra was too close to giving birth; a long stay would increase the chances that she had her child here. And while Lon was not particularly superstitious, he would always remember with pain the village that he'd lost his sister to—and the man who'd fathered her child. To have his first grandchild born here would be added pain and worry for him.

  "Whatever you and Petra think," Jack said. "We'll move whenever you say."

  Lon smiled at him, a quick, tense smile, relieving his tension for only a moment. He squeezed Jack's arm tightly in his strong, gnarled grip.

  "It will be all right," promised Jack. "She's the toughest person I know, aside from you."

  "Well, I thought that of your mother, too." The fear was naked on Lon's face.

  "She's among family. Ulis and Matt will help, whatever happens. It will be all right, Uncle."

  Lon's face relaxed for a moment, and he nodded. "Yes. Family." He moved off again, just as abruptly as he'd arrived, clearly not trusting himself to say more.

  Matt hopped down out of the wagon, carrying Jinx. "What'd I miss?"

  Jack told him, and he nodded his understanding, looking thoughtful. "If she's really close, maybe I should stay with her, just to keep an eye on things." He could do that, with his gentle healing magic.

  Jack nodded. "Probably should. But let's eat together first."

  Matt smiled his agreement, and the two set about making supper. More carrot-heavy stew, with the green tops set aside for Shelley.

  As they were eating, two people Jack had never expected to see again stepped up to them. Jack jumped to his feet, knocking over his tin bowl, spilling his stew.

  It was the wizard and Adrienne, looking very out of place in the meadow. Though the small fire was a bit separated from the others' today, it was certainly close enough that someone should've noticed intruders. Or at least the horses and dogs should've set up an alarm; they were very watchful of people approaching at night. But even Jinx didn't react, just lazed on the ground, panting by Matt's side, eyes half shut.

  Matt didn't rise, but his eyes grew round and expressive, holding concern. "What is it?" he asked, his own bowl still in his cupped hands. "What?"

  The wizard wore his heaviest fur coat, the one kept in the closet that Jack had never actually seen him use. He had on a hat, too, a bright red knit cap that looked like it ought to be worn to bed. Adrienne wore a coat she hadn't owned before, more expensive-looking than anything Jack had ever seen her wear. She had a tight, disapproving look to her pursed mouth.

  "Hmph," she said. "Ungrateful boy! Running away to be with the gypsies when we raised you so much better!"

  Jack bristled. "They're my family. They want me, and I love them!"

  Adrienne blew her nose loudly on a pale white, doily sort of handkerchief. The wizard put a hand on the middle of her back.

  Jack blinked. They were standing very close together. Now he noticed more: a big, jeweled ring flashed on her ring finger. The wizard wore a tamer golden band.

  "You got married?" he blurted out, and flushed. He hadn't even known that—

  "Yes, we thought it was the right thing to do," said the wizard. Was that…a faint blush behind his facial hair? It was impossible to tell in the low lighting; probably Jack's imagination.

  "We…heard you were in town from the new children," the wizard continued. "You should have dropped by."

  "Why?" said Jack, a quiet, hurt-sounding word, small but loud enough to ring clearly in the evening air.

  Still no one else seemed to notice the visitors at all. It was very strange.

  "Oh, you ungrateful, wicked boy!" said Adrienne. "After all we did for you!"

  "Y-You didn't." Jack's voice trembled. "You didn't. You made me work hard, and I—I did, but it never felt like enough. I wanted to please you, but you never really wanted me or noticed me, or…or cared about me. I wanted you to…to be my parents, but you never were. You never really liked me or wanted me at all."

  They stared at him, as if he was speaking a strange language.

  "The lies you tell! We gave you a good start in life," said Adrienne. "You learned a trade, and you never went hungry!"

  "Yes. I did. All the time. I was hungry so much." And for more than you had to give, he thought sadly. He'd been right: facing them wasn't helping anyone.

  Adrienne looked more annoyed than ever, and the wizard didn't seem to know what Jack was talking about.

  "Look," Jack said. "You probably did your best, but it's hard to be an orphan and know no one really wants you. Just try to treat your new servants better. Feed them enough. Don't make them sleep in the laundry room when you have better rooms lying empty."

  "They'll get the walls dirty," snapped Adrienne. "Come along, Herbert, let's go."

  Herbert? That's the wizard's name?

  She tugged at his arm impatiently, scowling. Jack could see she was hurt and offended, but he didn't want to take back anything he'd said. He was hurt and offended, too.

  Matt moved to stand beside him, putting a hand on the middle of Jack's back. Jack stood there feeling useless while Adrienne tried to get the wizard to leave with her.

  Herbert lingered, looking at Jack. Jack looked him full in the face, not scowling, not cringing, just looking at him. The wizard looked back with his pale, youngish eyes, so out of place in his old face.

  At last Adrienne and Herbert moved away and spoke quietly to one another, their heads together. She blew her nose, and nodded to something he said. Then he moved back to the fire. "She wanted you to have these." He held out a hand, suddenly holding a plate of Adrienne's nicest cherry cakes.

  Jack gaped.

  "Um…thank you," said Matt, moving to take them when Jack proved incapable of movement or speech.

  "Ah…I believe some people aren't cut out to be parents," said the wizard quietly. "But we shall do our best with the new children, and see that they aren't hungry."

  He gave Jack one last nod, and moved back to Adrienne. They walked away together, still without disturbing any dogs, horses, or people. After a moment, Jack couldn't see them anymore.

  He turned to Matt, seeking confirmation that he hadn't imagined them. Matt gave it to him with a shrug, and by holding up the plate.

  "I guess that's the best I can ask from them, really," said Jack with a sigh. "So why is it so hard not to hold it against them, everything they ever did wrong? I don't have as many feelings about my own father, and he actively betrayed me."

  Matt put the cookies down on the edge of the wagon and moved to take Jack into his arms. The embrace felt protective and cherishing. "It's because they meant so much to you," he said softly. "And you never felt like you meant anything to them. But you did. Clearly, you meant something, or they'd never have come here. She even baked for you."

  "For us."

  "For you," said Matt softly. "And you know very well she'll never have a nice thing to say about you again. But she still means it, underneath."

  Jack thought about that, while he hugged Matt back.

  They moved on early the next morning, not interacting with the villagers in their usual fashion. Matt stayed with Ulis and Petra in Ulis's wagon. They drove at a slow pace, so as not to jar Petra unnecessarily. He reported that her color was good, her discomfort not as bad as it could've been. He and Ulis did what they could to ease her.

  Matt and Jack rationed the cherry cakes between themselves, not sharing them with anyone, people or animals. Jack thought about the meeting often. Although he didn't know exactly how to feel about it, he did think that something was settled, and maybe he could look forward now, and stop looking back. At least, he hoped so; he had a future to create with Matt.

  They kept travelling till they reached the next village, and there set up camp. Trading, working, and repairs took up the next week and kept them all busy.

  Jack got the news, when he returned from repairing a boiler, that his cousin had given birth. He met Matt, looking triumphant and cove
red in sweat, as he was washing up carefully. The birth-blood was considered sacred and magical, and Matt had to be cleaned thoroughly before he could touch anyone else. Jack blinked, surprised he'd been allowed to help so closely in what was a woman's sacred hour. But apparently his magic had been of some use.

  Jack stepped as near as he dared. "All right?"

  Matt nodded, his face crinkling with a proud smile. "You're an uncle. Or…I suppose…a second cousin? Anyway, she had a healthy baby. A girl."

  Jack's face split with a grin. "More family."

  "Yes. More family." Matt looked at him closely, smiling gently. It was such a tender, warm smile. "I'm glad, you know. I'm so glad to be here. Do you know how happy you've made me?"

  "What?" Jack asked, startled, blinking. "What are you talking about? I'm the lucky one."

  Matt lowered his head and laughed softly. "I guess we could do this all day. I'm just…I'm so happy! I've never been so happy as when I'm with you. I love you."

  "I love you, too." He wished he could cuddle Matt close, kiss and hug him, but they both needed to clean up properly.

  Never mind. There was time; there was the rest of their lives.

  He felt that he and Matt both wished the same thing, that they could be parents. But at least they had family, and now Petra's child to spoil and care for, and the animals, and each other. They would create a beautiful future together.

  Matt finished washing up, and Jack cleaned up from the grimy repair job, and then they went together to join the celebration, the dancing and singing, the drinking and eating, to rejoice in new life and the many days to come.

  And later, they shared other, more private pleasures with one another in their little home, the horse, the dog, and everyone else locked out so that they were, for a little while, the only two people in their perfect world.

  The end

  About the author:

  Hollis Shiloh writes love stories about men, with the preferred genres of contemporary, historical, and fantasy. Hollis's stories tend toward the sweet rather than the spicy. When not writing, the author enjoys reading, listening to music, and being around animals.

  More stories by the author: www.amazon.com/Hollis-Shiloh/e/B00BPXIMWO/

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