Page 85 of Our Own Light

“It’s one of Floyd’s favorites. Mine, too.”

Oliver thought he’d better pay extra close attention, then.

Over the next half hour, Effie helped Oliver measure out the various ingredients, and then Oliver mixed them in the bowl. All the while, Oliver’s whole body buzzed with happiness. It felt like Effie was really becoming his friend. How incredible it was! Oliver could hardly believe that in the span of a few months, he had not only found a boyfriend, but a few friends, too—Roy, with whom Oliver still liked to play pool sometimes; Effie, who seemed to enjoy playing chess with him; and Aunt Betty, with whom he had been corresponding through letters. Life in Rock Creek was so much better than life in Cleveland or New York had ever been.

While Oliver and Effie waited for the cake to finish cooking, the two of them started chatting about their childhoods, keeping their voices low so as not to wake Floyd.

Effie told a few stories about her life back in McDowell County, reminiscing about how she and Floyd had become friends. Apparently, their families had owned farms next to each other’s, and so, it had been natural for them to play together. In their second year of school, Floyd had become friends with Matt. And then, of course, Effie had become friends with Matt, too.

“When the three of us became friends, there was a time when we all wanted to marry each other,” Effie said, shaking her head and chuckling. “Ain’t that something?”

Oliver smiled a little. “It is.”

“But then, when we were eight or nine, Floyd came up to me one day and said, ‘Effie, I think I only want to marry Matt now. I hope you ain’t mad.’ I was a little hurt by it, but of course I never told Floyd that. Days later, I was still a little upset when Matt came up to me to ask the same thing, but about Floyd. I think that was the moment that I realized they were in love or something and so, I wasn’t really bothered by them not wanting to marry me no more.”

“In love? At nine?” Oliver asked, having trouble imagining such a strange occurrence.

“Yup, very,” Effie said, as though this wasn’t the most extraordinary thing in the world. “It was a child-like kind of love for a while, with them secretly pecking each other on the cheek on occasion and squabbling about marbles and fishing and other petty things, but that love never faded. It matured with them. Years later, when they were both working in the mines together, they were as in love as ever. Or probably more in love than ever.”

“Wow, that’s incredible,” Oliver said. “Very romantic.”

Why hadn’t Floyd talked about Matt this much? Sure, Oliver had been a smidge upset over the fact that Matt had been more of Floyd’s equal in the mines, but had Oliver’s reaction really been enough to make Floyd feel like he couldn’t ever talk about someone who had obviously been so important to him? Who still was important to him?

Effie’s hand came to settle on Oliver’s shoulder.

“Something wrong?”

“Uhm, not really, but...” Oliver sucked on his bottom lip for a few seconds, trying to work out how to phrase what he wanted to say. “Does Floyd ever talk about Matt with you?”

“Not much,” Effie said, sadness in her voice. When Oliver looked over to meet her eyes, his chest tightened. It seemed like every ounce of her earlier happiness had vanished. He wanted to say that he was sorry for prying, but then Effie continued on. “Oh, Oliver, Matt’s passing hurt Floyd so much. I never even know how to bring it up with him. When I try, he becomes so tight-lipped. I’m not sure if he’s ever even let himself cry over it. I reckon that’s my fault, in a way, because only a week or so after Matt’s passing, I came to tell him that I was pregnant. We left for Rock Creek so fast and...” She let out a long sigh. “Life has been a whirlwind ever since. I mean, I know we’ve had time to ourselves once Jo is in bed, but I haven’t ever pushed him to try to talk about Matt in earnest. We’ve certainly talked around Matt plenty, but...”

Oliver took Effie’s free hand and squeezed it.

“Don’t blame yourself, Effie. I can’t even imagine how scary everything must have been for you back then. You had to focus on yourself. And on Jo.”

Effie squeezed back before letting go.

“Thank you.”

Both of them became lost in their thoughts as the cake finished cooking. Oliver’s heart hurt for Floyd, but truthfully, he wasn’t entirely sure how to help Floyd through his loss. He thought maybe he ought to try to bring Matt up himself, to encourage Floyd to talk about him again. Maybe that was what Floyd needed.

Oliver turned to Effie and asked, “Would you mind if I went to see Floyd? I know it’s your bedroom and everything, so I completely understand if you’re uncomfortable with it.”

“Go ahead.”

Oliver crept into the bedroom, the floorboards creaking beneath his feet as he shuffled across toward the bed and carefully sat on the edge of the mattress. Floyd only stirred. For a few moments, Oliver sat completely still, trying not to wake him. He wanted to admire Floyd for a little while—the way the side of his face was smushed into the pillow, the way some of his brown locks had fallen to cover his forehead, the stubble upon his chin—and then finally reached up to sweep the hair off his face. Floyd’s eyes fluttered open.

“Ollie?” Floyd asked, his voice thick with sleep.

“I was making a cake with Effie, but I wanted to visit you.”

Floyd hummed and said, “Applesauce cake?”

“Yeah,” Oliver said softly.

“I like that one,” he said through a yawn.

Oliver’s smile broadened as Floyd turned and rubbed his face into the pillow before rolling back over to face him. Even with bags under his eyes and his hair a mess, Floyd was so handsome.

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