"Of course I am your friend, and it makes me very happy that you want to be here, but I am concerned because you do not spend time with anyone but me, Tommy and Nissa."
He dropped his hand from her cheek and turned to the fridge, pulling out a bottle of the Serbian brandy made from pears, pouring them both a glass and handing one to her.
She knew he also had aReforma Tortawaiting in there, a rich, elegant walnut sponge cake layered with chocolate buttercream and finished with a glossy chocolate glaze, made only for special occasions in Serbia. She also knew it had taken him four attempts before he was satisfied with it, because Nissa had accidentally let slip that he’d brought the earlier ones in for the staff and trainees to eat, either not realizing Evie’s birthday was coming up, or not knowing thatReforma Tortawas a cake reserved for celebrations, not casual cravings.
Evie accepted the small tulip-shaped glass of golden-hued pear brandy with a quiet thanks and twirled it in her hands, watching the faintly oily sheen cling to the sides as she searched for an answer. She hadn’t told Tommy or Thorn that the harassment at university after Oscar’s trial had gotten so bad she was now taking almost all her courses online, working from home or at the Morningside Public Library, just five minutes from her apartment. Tommy would only feel guilty, and Thorn would follow her around like an overprotective grizzly bear, glaring at anyone who looked at her wrong.
“No one else wants to be around me,” she said quietly at last. “It doesn’t matter how often Tommy says it’s not my fault; people still blame me for what Oscar did.” She avoided Thorn’s eyes and went back to chopping the eggplant, feeling his gaze on her. “I’m surprised Mom hasn’t decided I’m the actual devil, not Dad,” she muttered, trying to inject some humour into her situation.
"They are fools, Evie, and they are missing out on your company and presence in their lives."
He walked around the island and pulled her into a tight hug, warmth and safety washing over her immediately. Turning, she pressed her forehead against his chest, wrapping her armsaround his waist - the only place narrow enough for her to reach all the way around.
“I am concerned for your mental health,” he murmured, “but very happy that I get to have you with me more often.”
“Maybe I should start going to yoga with you. I already have your number, so I won’t bug you for it and I’ll act as a deterrent to the other women. We’ll be so touchy and affectionate they’ll think we’re together.”
Evie changed the subject before she started crying. Thorn always seemed to know exactly what to say to make her feel understood and loved, and she wanted to help him the way he helped her.
Thorn pulled back and looked down at her, his blue-green eyes sparkling. “You would do that for me? I have missed going.”
“Of course, like you even have to ask.” She giggled as he kissed her cheek and pulled her into another hug.
“I am fortunate to have you, Little One.”
“I’m lucky to have you, too, Thorn.” She didn’t want him to let her go and cuddled closer, staying in his arms for a few more minutes. Understanding that she needed to be held, he rested his cheek against her head until she reluctantly pulled back. He lifted her chin and smiled gently.
“Things will work out, Evie. I know it feels like there is a hurricane centered on you, but I am here whenever you need me.”
She nodded, unable to find the words to thank him for everything. He seemed to understand, because he didn’t say anything else, just moved back to his place on the other side of the island and nodded toward her cutting board.
“Come on, let’s finish cooking. Try yourViljamovka.”
Evie chuckled and took a sip as he instructed. “Oh, that’s delicious, Thorn!” It had a lightly sweet pear flavor with just a hint of honey and vanilla behind it. There was no harsh burn, only a warmth that spread through her chest as she swallowed.
“I think in another life you were Serbian,Mališa,” he said with a grin. “You’ve picked up the language so easily, and you love the food and drink.”
“Well, I love you, so how could I not?”
She enjoyed every minute of their time together, especially when Thorn taught her about his culture and traditions. When his permanent visa came through in early March and he went back to Serbia to collect his things, he’d waited for spring break so he could take her with him, showing her the land where his family’s farm once stood.
It lay on the edge of the hills outsideValjevo, near the river. The fields and orchards were overgrown now, but Thorn told her his parents had grown wheat and corn, with plum and pear trees behind the house. Nothing remained but the foundations of the house and outbuildings, and he explained that reclaiming the land after the war had been more about creating a memorial for his family than about ownership. In the center of the old foundation stood three large stones, each one carefully carved with the names of his parents and sister.
They finished theÐuvec, laughing and teasing one another as the mood shifted back to the lighthearted comfort that usually marked her time with Thorn. Later, they sat down to eat in the living room, the coffee table pulled close to his sectional so they could watch movies.
Evie’s love for Serbian comfort food wasn’t something she pretended for Thorn’s sake. She genuinely loved the rich, warm casseroles filled with vegetables, rice, and chunks of beef orchicken, and how everything - from preparation and cooking to eating - seemed to carry a sense of ritual. When she finished her second plate, she leaned back on the couch with a soft, contented sigh.
“That was incredible.” She smiled at him, feeling full and a little sleepy, something she was sure the three glasses ofViljamovkahad a lot to do with. “Way better than any restaurant.”
“You are too kind.” Thorn returned her smile with a lazy one of his own, then stood up with a groan and gathered their dishes. “I have a surprise for you, so close your eyes.”
“Really?” She sat up, excitement bubbling, then remembered the birthday cake. Hoping she could still manage a slice, she watched as he started backing toward the kitchen.
“You are not closing your eyes.” He frowned, folding his arms and giving her his intimidation face.
Sorry!” She giggled and quickly covered her eyes with both hands to prove she wasn’t peeking.
Even after nearly three years of friendship, being reminded of how quietly Thorn could move was always unsettling. She barely heard the fridge open and close, then the faint clink of a drawer, and silence. A moment later came the softflick, flickof a lighter and the faint scent of his sandalwood-and-pine soap.
