Page 116 of What You Wish For

“Thank you,” she said.

I had no idea how this would play out. But here’s what I knew for sure:

I wouldn’t be giving Clay a secret cabinet ofGarfields at school, after all.

I’d be giving him asuper-secret cabinet ofGarfields.

Then, in late April, on the Friday of the near-the-end-of-year faculty party, Duncan closed the cafeteria for the day and sponsored a lunch picnic in the courtyard for the kids.

Mrs. Kline had taped big signs on the cafeteria doors that said, CLOSED FOR DECORATING.

It seemed like a lot of decorating.

But when I showed up at the party that night, I figured out why.

Duncan had brought back the butterfly mural.

Before I noticed the room strung with bulb lights and lanterns, and the round tables covered in festive cloths and candles, the first thing I saw—the only thing I saw, for a while there—was the butterflies. They were even more beautiful than I remembered.

I stared up at them for a while before I looked around for Duncan.

He was across the room, chatting with Mrs. Kline, but as soon asI spotted him, he seemed to feel my eyes on him. He looked over and watched me walk toward him.

“The butterflies are back,” I said, unable to disguise the tenderness in my voice.

“Yes.”

“The paint really was removable,” I said, shaking my head. “You scrubbed it off.”

“You didn’t believe the paint would come off?”

“I believed that you believed it.”

We both turned toward the mural.

My eyes stung a little bit. “But, if I’m honest, I didn’t really expect to see it again.”

Duncan gave me a little smile. “Surprise.”

“Thank you,” I said, my voice like a whisper.

Duncan nodded.

“Does this mean you think the world is a better place now?”

Duncan gave me a little sideways smile. “I think my world is better when you aren’t mad at me.”

“Fair enough,” I said. Though I hadn’t been mad at him in a good while.

There were twinkle lights strung across the ceiling, and quiet music on the speaker system, and drinks and food all around. Mrs. Kline had brought a lemon cake, and Coach Gordo had brought home-brewed beer. The teachers were showing up and filling the room—ready to bring a long school year to a close.

For a second, I found myself thinking about how I hadn’t been to a party since Max’s birthday, and I wondered if it might be hard for Babette to be here. And that’s when I remembered I had a message for Duncan.

“By the way,” I said, “Babette says you’re done with your tasks for her, as well. So you’re a free man. Now. Mostly. As long as you don’t… relapse.”

Duncan held very still, and I couldn’t tell if he was disappointed or just stoic. “The tasks are over?”

I shrugged, likeYep. “In fact, she instructed me to tell you that she’s very pleased with your work.”

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