After Ruth’s quiet exit, Veda stares out the window, hurrying to wipe her eyes when Hiram joins her.
“I’ll tell Khadijah to take you home.”
Her composure cracks with a whispered “Thank you.”
It’s the last thing they say to each other. Hiram points Khadijah in the direction of the room Veda is in, then collects Antaris from story time early. His disappointment at her premature departure fades fast when Veda offers him a tired smile and signstomorrow. They spend the rest of the evening eating pizza and watching cartoons. Antaris doesn’t make it through two episodes before falling asleep. After tucking him in, Hiram retires to his bedroom for a fitful night of sleep.
It’s barely ten in the morning, but Hiram has been awake for hours. Rather than cook, he decides to treat Antaris by taking him to the Leaning Cactus for breakfast. The moment Antaris signsbacon, pleaseto Hiram while ordering, Cathy, the waitress, fawns over him, showing him the signs for different menu items that they practice while she’s putting their orders in. Antaris’s meal is no charge because he reminds Cathy of her deaf granddaughter. Hiram leaves money on the table for her and lets Antaris writethank youon the back of the receipt in his uneven penmanship.
They don’t have plans, but this changes when a familiar truck pulls onto the road, towing an even more familiar motorcycle. Veda is on the side of the road, phone to her ear. She does a double take when she sees him, hanging up with a roll of her eyes and approaching the passenger side as he slows to a stop beside her. Smiling at Antaris is routine, but the look she gives Hiram is less cold than usual. Progress.
“You missed Peter. He’s dropping my bike off at the shop. It wouldn’t crank. My Imprint reader isn’t working.”
“Why didn’t you let him take you home?” Hiram asks. There’s nothing around but trees lining the road.
“Iamat home.” When he and Antaris exchange dubious looks, she shakes her head. “My driveway is concealed from the road by illusionary magic to protect my cottage from prying eyes. It’s about a mile into the forest.”
Antaris squints at the forest line. He clearly wants to see where she lives, and Veda knows it. She surprises Hiram by getting into the passenger seat and closing the door. Eyes shut, she cups her hands and frowns in concentration until a blue orb materializes before her. Alarmed, Hiram puts the car in park, ready in case the consequences of magic hit her hard. “You don’t have an amulet.”
“It’s already been paid for, years ago,” Veda explains as the orb floats to Antaris. “It’ll read and store your Imprint when you touch it and allow you to see beyond the illusion.”
Antaris’s trust in Veda shows in his lack of hesitation. He giggles at the sensation. Hiram’s glad he’s parked because the sound jolts him.
“Tickles?”
His son nods, a tinge of color in his cheeks.
Hiram’s amusement fades when the orb floats to him. “Are you sure?” he asks Veda, understanding the depth of what she’s offering.
“No, but I know you won’t hurt me.”
“I won’t.” He meets her eyes as he touches it. Warmth spreads through his fingertips, and the trees begin to fade, revealing a driveway behind her.
“Reserareis the incantation to open the path when I’m not around. Go on.”
Hiram turns the car onto the narrow path.
Isolatedis the first word that comes to mind. The forest is dense on both sides of the dirt road, growing thicker in parts, thinner in others. A few animals dash by the car, but none get too close. At last, the trees part to reveal her cottage.
“There’s not much to see,” she says as they climb out of the sedan.
Antaris slips his hand into Veda’s, eager to see everything she shows him, from the talisman at the door to the solarium. He sees her lantern floating above her bed and sign language books spread all over the coffee table. While Antaris looks out the window at the forest behind her house with Hiram, Veda stands beside him.
“If I were lost and found this place, I wouldn’t know it was yours,” he says quietly.
“That’s my intent,” Veda replies honestly.
Antaris notices the herbs in the kitchen, pointing. They’re leggy in parts, thin in others. Partially dead.
“Ah, yes. They were slightly neglected when I hurt my hand. You can have them, if you’d like. Your dad was going to start a little garden for you at home. Oregano, mint, dill, thyme, cilantro, rosemary. These are perfect.”
Hiram appreciates the gift, but sours at Veda detaching herself from yet another thing. “You can share them with us,” he suggests in a rush. “We’ll provide the space and you can help us keep them alive.” He waves his thumb. “Black thumb and all.”
Veda studies him too long for it to be appropriate. “I think I’ve got an extra cedar raised bed that I built for the greenhouse and never used.”
Antaris goes with her to find it, and not long after, it’s in Hiram’s trunk and they’re all off to the greenhouse for spare dirt. It takes an hour for Veda to mix everything, explaining each part to an intrigued Antaris. Finally, they head back to his house and start working on the bed, thequacking ducks on the lake serving as background noise. Hiram leaves them to make pastitsio as a thank-you.
The windows are open. The sun is shining. He can see them outside as he cooks. Antaris is on his stool with gloves Veda snatched from the greenhouse, wielding a hand shovel. From the looks of it, they’ll have room for more herbs in the bed. Having sage would be nice. Green onion and basil, too.
