“Max.” Oscar shakes his head.
“Right,” he breathes. When I look up, his face is stricken. “I didn’t mean to - that wasn’t a suggestion or anything.”
My face isn’t quite sure what to do with that information. “Uh. Okay?”
Max’s cheeks still bear a spot of red as he carries me up the steps. But his voice is soft, thick with emotion as Jake pushes the door open. “Welcome home, Ken.”
Home.
Even the air is different in here. The scent of cooking, of coffee, that I remember has been replaced with a warming mix of all of their different scents, merged together in a way that very clearly sayspack. That this is where they live. I breathe in deeply. Again.
Nirvana. I need this bottled.
Glancing up at Max, I catch him watching me. “Put me down?”
He obliges with a small grumbled complaint, his hands hovering as he sets me on my feet. I take a small, cautious step. My feet creak against the dark wooden floorboards, worn but almost soft with use as I pad down the hall. Curiosity grows with every step.
The living room is tidy. Jake darts ahead of me, sweeping up a few empty cups with an embarrassed look. “Yeah. We should have cleaned.”
“No,” I whisper, moving inside. Turning, I half-smile at the familiar coffee table, piled high with dog-eared books and worn down pencils. Beside them, a games controller lies discarded. My eyes travel to the shelves, and I feel my smile grow. “Board games?”
“Board games.” Oscar says gruffly.
ASnakes and Laddersgame is at the top. Still in its packaging. And in the corner, a wicker basket is piled high with carefully folded blankets, each of them jewelled and soft-looking. The windowsill holds several candles, unlit.
Like they were waiting for me.
I bite down on my lip against the rush of emotion. A hand brushes my back. “Ken.”
Theo. “I’m okay. Just adjusting.”
“Feels a little more complicated than that,” he says softly. But he doesn’t press. I turn, watching him disappear after Jake into the kitchen. The open doorway shows me a newer – but still battered looking – round kitchen table made of honeyed wood, five chairs pushed in with pretty gingham check cushions tied on top and the sage green walls hung with mismatched photo frames waiting to be filled.
It’s not something they would have thought of. Not unless they were thinking about… someone else. Someone whowouldwant pretty cushions, candles, and blankets. Matching coffee mugs, and plants in vibrant patterned pots that look like they’re on their last legs. Photo frames waiting for memories to fill them.
They’re all watching me. As if my reaction matters.
As if they were waiting for me.
“I love it,” I whisper finally. “It feels like a home.”
Like maybe… maybe it could be my home too.
Kenny
Rollingover,Inearlytopple into mid-air. “Gah—,”
A solid pair of hands catch me. Jake rolls me back into place on the couch, his face hovering over me worriedly. “You okay?”
Wide-eyed, I try to catch my breath. “I’m not used to sleeping on a couch.”
Or anywhere raised. A year spent bundled up in clothes and blankets will do that. Blinking, I sit up and rub sleep from my eyes with the back of my hand. “What time is it?”
“After ten,” Jake says quietly. He settles back down against the couch. “You want to try upstairs? The nest is pretty set-up, although you’ll want to build it properly. But it might work for now.”
Across from us, Max’s head nods in the wide, comfortable leather chair. My head shakes. “Maybe tomorrow.”
In front of us, the television flickers, showing some sort of action movie. Colours dance across Jake’s face as he looks up at me. “No rush, Kenny.”
