Page 5 of Prayers for the Prickly

“Bet you guys have some awesome stories of how you managed that,” I said, already giving serious consideration about which candies to select for him.

I don’t know why it suddenly mattered so much to me to pick ones he’d loved, just that I cared and wanted him to smile when Olly gave the box to him, even if he wouldn’t know who’d assembled it. Maybe it was because of those carvings and the attention to detail he’d put into them. Though vastly different mediums, I thought he’d get the artistry that went into the candy I created. It was nothing like the kind you’d find bagged up and stale in the supercenter candy aisle.

“Yeah, we do,” Olly said. “Remind me to tell you someday when neither of us is busy.”

“I’m going to hold you to that,” I said as he made a beeline for the glass doors between my shop and the bakery.

He’d find the chocolate shop was on the other side of the dining room, and no doubt be in there for a while once he saw all the truffles, cream filled, buckeyes, fudge, nut-clusters and decadent cordials Everett had in his cases.

Lining up baggies on the counter, I prepared to put together the most amazing assortment since the one I’d assembled for my senior project back in culinary school. Taking all the flavors Olly had listed into consideration, I packaged up lemonade twists of the strawberry, blackberry, and peach varieties, the added in a couple blueberry, just to see if he’d like them, too.

Having Olly pop in today was nothing short of miraculous. I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the jolly man’s prickly brother, and the way he’d covered up his snarl with so much coughing that I’d been afraid he was going to hurt himself. He’d smelled like wood and the ocean. One wavy lock of his chocolate brown hair had tumbled forward to land on his forehead, and my fingers had itched to brush it back, if only to see how soft it was. Bushy and wide, his beard had still been neatly trimmed and combed, the hair waving when he’d laughed.

I’d noticed the way it had caught him off guard when the first chuckle spilled out. The man clearly didn’t laugh often, but once he’d gotten started, he’d struggled to regain his composure the same as Olly and I had. He hadn’t seemed upset about enjoying the moment, either. I hadn’t missed the look that had passed between him and Olly when Gregor had given me the price. For whatever reason, the man had given me a discount, probably a big one, if the surprised look on Olly’s face had been any indication. Something told me that Gregor didn’t do that often, if ever and if he had, it was only for family.

True to my word, I had it ready when a grinning Olly returned with a ribbon-tied box.

“Looks like you found enough chocolate to put you in a sugar high for at least a week,” I said.

“I’m hoping for two, which means I’ll have to carefully portion them out so I don’t overdo it.”

“Something tells me that’ll be easier said than done.”

“No shit, it just might prove to be the challenge of a lifetime.”

We laughed at that, then Olly paid and took off with his treasure trove of goodies. I’d barely rung up the purchases of my other patrons and sent them on their way when Everett came bounding over, smelling of chocolate and the maple cream he was so fond of. Being in Maine, maple was a staple, and people had already fallen in love with his different twists and flavor combinations.

“Dude, oh my goddess, you will never believe what just happened,” Ever said as he skidded to a halt beside the counter.

“You finally got your maple maltballs to turn out the way you wanted?”

“I wish.”

“You figured out which notebook you wrote Gram Gram’s recipe for chocolate-covered honeycomb candy in?”

“No, and I’ve looked everywhere,” Everett insisted. “I’ve paged through every notebook in my office and the ones back at the house to, and nothing. I know I wrote it in one of the small ones, because I’d deliberately taken it that night because it fit in my pocket. With Aubry and Rebel running around, I figured it would only be a matter of time before grubby little fingers found it and colored me a whole storybook, right on top of the notes I’d taken.”

I giggled at that, because we’d both made the mistake of leaving notebooks and ideas scribbled on napkins, only to return to where we’d left them to discover that they’d been colorfully adorned or absconded with.

“Ain’t that the truth,” I said. “But at least their stories are always entertaining.”

“Yeah, they are,” Ever said. “It wouldn’t surprise me any if they became storytellers or even authors one day.”

“Wouldn’t that be a thing to see.”

“I’d be proud to read their stories to my hoglets one day,” Ever said. “If I’m ever lucky enough to find my mate.”

I smiled, feeling my insides turn to goo at the thought of holding hoglets of my own one day.

“Oh, now what is that look for?” Ever asked.

“Just wondering what got you all wound up and bouncing off the walls on the way over here?” I asked as I leaned against the counter and feigned a nonchalance I didn’t feel. “I know, you finally made the chocolate peanut butter espresso beans you promised Uncle Gene?”

“Oh shit, I need to get those done,” Everett groaned, smacking a hand to their face.

“Damn, okay, well then I’m gonna stop guessing now, before I wreck your entire day.”

“After the conversation I just had, I doubt anything could wreck this day, though I think I’d better stay late tonight and get those espresso beans done before Uncle Gene marches down here and attempts to make them himself.”

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