Page 22 of A Bridge to a Troll's Heart
“Really?” Toby stared down at his feet. “Because I’ve been rather rude. I’m sorry I haven’t been by sooner.”
“That’s all right.” Arlo crossed the bridge and approached. “I’m sorry I upset you.”
“You didn’t upset me.” Toby glanced up. “Well, I was upset, but it wasn’t your fault.”
Arlo didn’t understand. He’d been certain his words had hurt Toby somehow. He didn’t know what to say.
Toby held out his hand. A folded square of fabric lay in his palm. “I brought you something.”
Another tribute should have perked Arlo up, but it didn’t. “You shouldn’t have.”
“But I wanted to see you, and I didn’t have any other ideas. So I thought you might like this.”
Arlo took the gift and unfolded it to reveal a simple landscape scene: rolling green hills leading to a copse of evergreens, white puffy clouds dotting the sky. A brown border painted to look like a window frame surrounded the tableau.
“Since your den doesn’t have any windows,” Toby explained.
“What a clever idea.” Arlo had always found Toby’s tributes to be more thoughtful than the rest. “Did you paint it yourself?”
“I painted it, yes, but Arthur did the drawing for me first. The scene wouldn't be nearly as precise without his help.”
“Thank you. I will be the only troll with his own window.” Arlo carefully folded the cloth back in place and tucked it inside his coat pocket. “And please pass my thanks along to Arthur as well.”
“I will.” Toby’s voice came soft and shy.
For the first time ever, the silence between them felt awkward instead of comfortable. Neither the river’s rippling babble nor the birds’ chirping songs could fill the rift.
Arlo could only think of one thing that might help. “Would you like to join me for tea?”
Toby let out a sigh. “Yes, that would be nice.”
They headed beneath the bridge and into the cozy den. Arlo put the kettle on and gestured for Toby to take the only chair. Arlo sat on his bed.
At the same time, they said, “How have you been?”
Arlo chuckled. “You first.”
“Oh, I’ve been keeping busy helping around the village. I often look after the children and help with the cooking. You?”
Toby looked sad. Truthfully, Arlo had been sad too, but he didn’t want to say so and make things any worse than they already were. “The same as you. Keeping busy tending to my chores. It’s quiet here when you aren’t around.”
“I meant to visit sooner.” Toby didn’t make eye contact. “I just needed a little time to think things over.”
“What things?”
“Well, there’s something I should probably tell you, though I suppose you may already know.”
Arlo definitely didn’t know. He hoped Toby would keep talking. He’d missed the sound of his voice. “You can tell me anything.”
Toby hesitated.
The tea kettle whistled.
Arlo would have liked to ignore it, but instead, he hurried to take the kettle off the heat and pour two cups. He handed one to Toby.
Toby smiled. “It’s chamomile.”
“Of course. It’s your favorite if I’ve remembered correctly.”
