Page 32 of Never Landing

Peter beamed. “There is. But there’s always been magic in the world. We just knew where to look, and most people didn’t seem to back then.”

Ezra nodded, wiping his eyes. He motioned to the cart. “Going to make honey cakes?”

Peter nodded. “I am. We are. Maybe...maybe sometime you could come. William is still out there. You—you were best friends.”

“We were,” Ezra agreed. “I’m not sure any of them would want to see me anymore.”

“You’re wrong.” I’d never heard Peter so serious in all our time together, not even when he was talking about what he wanted out of life, tense and sad and thinking about running off into the woods. “We’re family, Ezra. Always will be. Always.”

The old man almost fell forward, hugging Peter again, nodding. When they pulled away, both were wiping their faces. Marsha was staring at Peter like she’d seen a ghost. Or like she’d entirely forgotten he existed until that moment.

I took the melon Ezra was still holding in one hand. “I think we will try this. If you say they’re the best in the state, obviously that’s worth trying out.”

Ezra nodded. “Almost as good as the ones I grow in my garden in season.”

“We’ll have to get you one of those in the summer, so you can compare,” Marsha suggested. She sounded hopeful, and I realized she was feeling me out, not Peter, for whether we were staying.

“That sounds amazing,” I agreed. “Maybe we’ll have a barbecue in the summer, invite everyone, and you can bring one with you.”

“We would love that.” She reached out and grabbed Ezra’s shoulder. “My mother taught him how to make that blueberry pie. We could bring one of those too.”

Peter leaned against me, his head on my shoulder. “It’s a plan. I can’t wait.”

20

Peter

“Can we...really have a barbecue this summer?” I asked as we unloaded the groceries back at home.

Everett seemed to know that wasn’t really what I was asking, but his smile was serene, not edgy. He nodded. “Yeah, I think it’d be fun. I’ve never gotten to do one before. Sometimes my apartment complex would have cookouts on the roof or something, but that’s not the same. Do you...want to?”

“Yeah! For sure. I’d love to have Ezra over, and I want to get to know his person. Marsha seems so nice. I think that’d be really good.” And mostly? I was just happy Everett was staying. Maybe it wouldn’t be forever and we’d have some other adventure in the future, but maybe this would be our place. I couldn’t wait to find out.

He left out the stuff for baking, and we prepared the batter for the honey cake first.

That went into a round pan, greased and covered in flour.

There was a patch of dust at the very tip of Everett’s nose, and I stared at it for a second too long. I desperately wanted to kiss it, to catch that dust on my lips and then let them drift lower totaste his again. Ugh, I wanted to kiss him and hold him and let my heart fly.

And I didn’t want to make him feel weird or like he was hurting me or doing anything wrong.

“Are you okay?” Everett had caught me staring and he tipped his head to the side.

I blinked, straightening my neck. “Totally. Absolutely great. Best ever.”

He grinned and handed me the cake pan. “Want to put this in the oven?”

“Sure! How long?”

“Hm...” Everett leaned over the recipe card. “It says fifty-five minutes, or when a toothpick comes out clean.”

I set the timer and leaned back against the counter. The cookies we were making were oatmeal with pecans instead of raisins, because only grownups put raisins in cookies. The whole kitchen smelled like honey and cinnamon and warmth.

“Why are you smiling like that?” Everett looked up from where he was scooping out mounds of cookie dough one by one.

I shrugged. “This is perfect.”

When he was done and put the baking sheet in the fridge to chill, we each took a beater and licked the batter clean. With the oven going, it was a little warmer in the kitchen than it would’ve been normally, and I cracked open the window, something twisting in my belly. Would they come?

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