Page 81 of Our Own Light

Effie turned to fetch it, but Floyd caught her arm.

“You swear you ain’t upset about me and Ollie?”

“Yes, I swear,” she said, like she was real tired of Floyd’s bullpoop. “I’m happy for you. And I’m happy for me, too. Because I like Oliver. Josephine likes him, too. I told you a long time ago that I was happy with our marriage. I still am. I like my life the way it is, you hear?”

“Mmm... yeah, I suppose,” Floyd said, releasing her. “Better find your hat before the wind blows it away again.”

“Oh, is that what happened?” Effie said, picking it up off the floor. “Time to find Josephine and Mister Oliver.”

Floyd smiled warmly. “Yeah, let’s head out.”

Hands joined together, they walked across town.

***

Hours later, the entire town was still having fun in James Donohue’s big backyard, enjoying music and food and even a secret bit of moonshine that had found its way to the party, though Floyd hadn’t found it himself yet. So far, Floyd, Effie, and Ollie had only been following Josephine around as she had fun watching the puppet show and seeing the magician (who, she said, was only a bit more magical than Mister Oliver), and of course, they had all eaten plenty of ice cream. It had been a real nice night.

Now, though, Josephine was with William and his siblings, trying to catch lightning bugs over toward the edge of Donohue’s property. With the band playing, Floyd supposed it would probably make Effie happy if he asked her to dance.

Holding out his hand, he said, “Come on, Effie.”

Effie looked down at his hand like it was covered with coal dust. “Are you trying to ask me to dance with you?”

“Uh, yeah. Unless you ain’t want to?”

“What kind of invitation is that?”

“What do you mean?”

“It ain’t romantic at all!”

“Romantic? Effie, what in the...” Floyd huffed. “We’re married!”

Ollie pushed Floyd’s hand away. “Excuse me, miss, but I couldn’t help but notice you from across the ballroom.”

Floyd blew out a puff of air. “Ballroom? Ollie, we’re standing on a patch of dirt.”

Ollie ignored him. “And I have to say, you are as beautiful as the moon.” He looked over at Floyd. “Which, everyone knows, is exceedingly more beautiful than something as completely unremarkable as the sun.” And then back at Effie, who was now barely containing her laughter. “Would you make me the luckiest man in the entirety of West Virginia by sharing this dance?”

“Oh my,” Effie said, very clearly exaggerating how supposedly touched she was by this pile of horsefeathers. “Now that is an invitation. Yes, Oliver, of course I will.”

Floyd cocked an eyebrow at Ollie, who shrugged and shook his head as if to say, “You bungled that, sweetheart,” only with a bunch more expletives.

“It’s like you’ve never been to a cotillion before,” Ollie said, leading Effie away.

“Ollie, I’m not even sure what that is,” Floyd said through a laugh.

For the next couple of songs, Floyd stood by and watched Ollie lead Effie around the so-called ballroom. It made his chest swell and his heart ache, but in a happy kind of way. He loved seeing the two of them have fun together.

But somehow, it was making him a little sad, too. Even though Ollie looked nothing like Matt—Ollie was taller and leaner and had that beautiful yellow hair—seeing Effie and Ollie being so close made Floyd think of the years the three of them had all spent together before—

Floyd closed his eyes. It still hurt to even think about it.

When Floyd opened his eyes again, Ollie was smiling one of those sweet smiles of his, the ones that made him look so innocent, even with all that schooling he’d had and places he had been to, and Floyd replied to that big, beautiful smile with a wink.

Which made Ollie bite down on his bottom lip in this sweet way. Floyd loved how sweet Ollie could be sometimes. Or maybe all the time. He was lucky to have found someone who had all this unique adorableness about him. Yet, he still missed Matt plenty. He missed the way that every smile of Matt’s had felt like a present meant only for him because of how stoic he had typically been otherwise. He missed Matt’s low laugh and the way Matt had been fascinated by the most random things—pocket watches and stamps and coins and such. If only he could see Matt again. Just one more time.

As the next song started to play—a slow one, one that was heavy on the viola—Floyd let his eyes wander over to where Jo was playing, and he tried to focus on the little flashes of light from the lightning bugs, rather than the heaviness in his heart. Toward the edge of the woods, he could still see the beautiful blue-purple color of the tube-flowers that bloomed every summertime, and over the next couple of minutes, he watched the colors fade while the sun started to set.

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