Page 103 of Our Own Light

Reluctantly, Oliver let Floyd go before they went inside.

“Someone could have seen us, silly,” Floyd said, and Oliver was relieved that he sounded more playful than mad. “I had to put Jo to bed, and then I wanted to talk to Effie.”

“Was Effie upset that you missed supper?”

Instead of responding, Floyd held up one of his fingers, signaling Oliver to wait. After fishing around in his pocket, he pulled out two nails.

“She told me you can be the one to use ’em,” Floyd said. “Last thing she needs is to clean up a bunch of blood off the floor.”

Oliver snorted. “Ah, so you told her about our whole Dostoevsky thing.”

“Yup.”

With a shake of his head, Oliver thumbed over his shoulder toward the kitchen.

“Would you set those down somewhere, please? I’m clumsy enough to follow through with stabbing one of us if you keep holding onto them.”

Floyd headed over to the kitchen. After setting the nails on the countertop, he picked a piece of paper and the envelope that Oliver had left there earlier.

“What’s this?”

“Just a letter from my Aunt Betty. I’ve been writing to her.”

“Ah, I remember you said you went to visit her.”

“Yeah, she’s... Floyd, she’s wonderful. I mean, maybe she’s a bit terse sometimes, but she’s kind,” Oliver said. “I’m really happy to have her in my life again. I can’t believe I found someone in my family who isn’t terrible. I’m so thankful for it.”

Looking at the envelope, Floyd nodded, smiling warmly.

“Yeah, me, too, Ollie. I’m real happy for you.”

Oliver came up behind him and wrapped his arms around him.

“Sweetheart, I missed you,” Oliver said softly, close to Floyd’s ear. “Can I show you how much I missed you?”

Without even a word, Floyd whirled around and captured Oliver’s mouth in a kiss.

Chapter Fifteen

Floyd

One morning in September, Floyd left Ollie’s house early to find some breakfast for the two of them—something easy for Ollie to cook before they went to work together. Moving through the company store, Floyd started humming a tune to himself, happy that everything had been so much better over the past weeks. Ollie and he were so much more open with each other now. Honesty had made their relationship stronger than ever.

While placing eggs into his basket, Floyd felt a hand come to rest atop his shoulder.

“Morning, Floyd,” Roy said.

Even though Roy’s tone was friendly, there was an edge to it. He was narrowing his eyes like he was waiting to scrutinize Floyd’s response, too.

“Morning, Roy,” Floyd said, trying not to let on that Roy was making him uncomfortable. “How’re the wife and kids?”

“Fine. How’s your wife?”

“Uh, not bad,” Floyd said. Obviously, there was more to Roy’s comment than was being said. Floyd hoped he could change the subject. “Do you always shop so early?”

“Sometimes.” Roy crossed his arms over his chest before looking around the store, maybe confirming that it was empty except for the two of them and Charlie, who was behind the register. In a whispered voice, he said, “I seen you sleeping over at Oliver’s house a few times these past weeks.”

Floyd’s blood ran cold, fear starting to prickle his skin.

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