Page 25 of In the Light of the Moon

“Can,” it felt like I had a frog in my throat, but I swallowed thickly to make my pathetic request, “can you just hold me for a little while?”

Orion’s smile wasn’t a light in the darkness like his white hair or bright eyes. The skin around them crinkled, and his face broke in a way that made another tear fall down my cheek in awe. It was like the grounding embrace of the forest, where I felt the most at peace. His arms opened for me to settle on his chest, and it was a primal calm that I felt nuzzled into the fabric of his t-shirt.

We laid like that, in the front seat of his car, for what felt like a lifetime, but neither of us fell asleep. It was strange to be there with this man that I’d met while he was battered and bloodied, then curt and stinging. But now, Orion was brushing kisses into my hair, drawing deep breaths while he rubbed his hands on my back. It felt far more intimate than what we’d been doing before, but the hot tar of anxiety within me never boiled or stirred.

Maybe Josie’s hunch was right.

I waited for the simmering of fear to start, but it remained still as I let the hope settle that this would last. And when we reluctantly emerged, Orion walked me to the front door, kissed my cheek, and wished me a good night. I muttered the same to him and all but floated back to my room, with the butterflies returning at full force and carrying me to bed.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Sylvie

The wicker of my basket was digging into my arm, so I switched to carrying it in my hand while Granna and I walked further in the forest. My pocket knife was a steady weight in my pocket that I felt with every step. With her own basket in tow, Granna got to plucking at a cluster of juniper berries just off our usual path.

I grabbed a few as well and added them my spoils of our afternoon. We set off again, and I held my fingers up to my nose, inhaling the scent of the berries and the woods around us. The last waves of heat were dying, and under the cover of the trees, it felt even cooler.

I’d been coming out here on my own, trying to reconnect with the frolicking and wandering I’d engaged in for endless hours when I was a child. Each time, I felt more connected, more grounded, but there was still something missing. There was still a haze, almost, but with each walk out here, it was clearing, bit by bit.

After more silent walking, Granna and I stopped at another tree and started on harvesting some oyster mushrooms. I ran a reverent hand over the gills and felt the buzzing of more fog dissipating. They were my favorite, and we almost had enough between us for the pasta Granna promised to make for dinner tonight. Her long, slender fingers deftly pulled the mushrooms from where they grew, and when her basket became too full, she began handing them to me.

I imagined her doing this, foraging in the stretch of forest by her house, for years with my mother, then by herself after she died. Granna’s eighty years on this earth hadn’t worn her down but built her into a wizened fixture. One that I could easily imagine in the peak of youth as looking not far from how she did now. Sharp, knowing eyes, nimble hands for working with plants and flowers, and a mouth that was as quick to cut as it was to joke.

“Have you quit that awful job yet, sweetheart?” Granna was crouched and turned a particularly large mushroom this way and that, examining it, before tossing it with the others in my basket.

I blinked up above, watching a squirrel hop across a series of branches like they were an obstacle course. “Not yet, still looking for a better job to replace it.”

She stood with an audible crack of her knees, but started back to walking as quickly as I did, “You don’t need to work at all, Sylvie. We have enough.”

It was an argument she continuously brought up. Not that I didn’t disagree, but Vinny’s wasn’t that bad. The pay wasn’t great, but as far as part-time jobs went, there were few that didn’t mind me writing or working on schoolwork while at the register.

And I didn’t feel right pulling money from Granna’s savings. She’d received quite a sum for selling her florist shop, but itmade me feel better to use my own money when I went out shopping or to lunch with Josie. Orion hadn’t let me pay for anything on our past two dates, so I was planning on finding some sort of gift for him soon.

I just shrugged off Granna’s assurances, so she pressed more. “And that boy?”

It was like she could read my mind sometimes. “Great, actually. Though, he’s thirty-three, Granna. Hardly a boy.”

She waved my comment away, “He’s a boy in my eyes. A nice boy, I will admit.” And then she scoffed when she saw the wide grin on my face.

“Yeah? He managed to even soften your icy heart, fancy lady?”

“Oh, calm yourself. I didn’t meet any of your dates in the past, but I know the stories. I have a good feeling about this one.”

I pulled my water bottle from the basket and took a swig. The droplets that clung to my lips were still cold, and I wiped them away with the back of my hand. “Now you sound like Josie.”

Granna cut her eyes to me with a brow lifted, “And what did she say?”

My face mimicked her expression, and she rolled her eyes. “That she had a hunch that he was here to stay. Why?”

Now it was Granna’s turn to shrug, “She knows you well. And I agree.”

“Well, I’m glad that you both approve. But it’s only been two dates and texts between us. Hardly a marriage proposal.”

“Just wait and see.”

I sent my eyes skyward and took a deep breath. “While I like him very much, it’s too soon to tell. Especially with everything else going on.” I gave her a suspicious once-over, but she was still focused on the path before us. “What’s turned you into a romantic all of a sudden? You’ve always been rather prickly when it comes to love.”

“Oh, you love this boy now?” I just sighed at her deflection, but the little pitter patter in my chest was more difficult to ignore.

---