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“Mmm. He’s intense. Genuine. Not funny,” she added gently.
“No,” Bram agreed and grinned. “Well, occasionally. But it’s nearly always accidental.”
“He seems,” she said thoughtfully, “like someone who is always thinking, always innovating. Curious. I like that.”
“Me too.”
“He also seems very, very sad.”
“Yeah. It’s not sadness about anything now. Just a lot of sadness in the past,” Bram said. “I think.”
His mother put her palm to her heart. Bram had told her a lot about Zachary and knew she found his story heartbreaking.
“How is it going?” she asked, touching his arm and moving to walk through their raised beds, her favorite place to be.
“So good,” he said. “My lease is up September 1st and I’m going to move in with him. I know what you’re probably thinking, that it’s fast and—”
“My Bramble. Don’t ever assume that you know what someone else is thinking.”
It was something his parents had often told them as children, and it was always a helpful reminder.
“Sorry, you’re right. What do you think?”
“You don’t care what I think, do you? You’ve made up your mind.”
“Well. Yes.”
“Good.” She patted his shoulder. “It’s very important for you to trust yourself.”
“Yeah.”
He was working on it. He hadn’t quite realized the extent to which he looked for approval reflected back on him from his family’s responses to his behavior. But once his dad had pointed it out, it was clear that having some space from them made it easier to check in with himself because there wasn’t another Larkspur always looking over his shoulder, having opinions, and having known him since he was an infant.
“It’s gonna be good. With us living together, we can split Zachary’s rent, which will be cheaper, and will take some burden off Zachary since he’s planning to quit the firm in a few weeks.”
“That sounds very practical.”
“Also, ya know, I’m wicked in love with him,” he said with a wink and a grin, before bending to run his fingers over some seedlings poking their heads out of the dirt.
“Eggplant?” he guessed.
His mom’s smile was wry. “You can always tell even before the true leaves come in. It’s magic.”
“Nah.” He waved her off. They walked a little farther, then he said, “Wanna know my secret?”
“Yup.”
“You rotate the crops counterclockwise—mostly—every year, on a five-year cycle. I just remember where you planted things in the past.”
His mom shook her head. “That might be more impressive, actually.”
“God, you want impressive, get Zachary to talk to you about architecture. He’s so damn smart, and he has all these ideas about buildings that are gonna change the world.”
Bram couldn’t wait for Zachary to quit his job and devote all his immense creative energy to the kind of work that would satisfy him.
“I look forward to that,” his mom said with a soft smile.
* * *
The Larkspur siblings weren’t as many in number as the trick-or-treating mass that had descended upon Casper Road six months before, but they arrived with a similar impact, decibel, and hunger.
Zachary, Bram, and his parents were sitting out on the deck, and the calm was rent by their arrival.
“Little brother!” came the first call.
Bram stood and let Thistle ram into him and scoop him up in a bear hug, spinning them both around. Thistle was about the only person who had ever been able to do so, and Bram squeezed his brother tight.
“Missed you,” he said when he could breathe again.
He got another squeeze.
Vega ran past him with a wave and called, “Gotta pee! I’ll hug you in a minute!” and Bram grinned.
“Hey, Bumblebee,” said Birch. She held his nieces’ hands.
“Hey, guys!”
He hugged Birch, then squatted down to look at Millie and Dorothy. Even though he saw them often via the weekly family video chats, they were at an age where they looked different nearly every time he saw them.
They hugged him together, one on each arm, and he lifted them up and spun around until he felt dizzy. They seemed fine.
He staggered toward Moon, who had emerged from her truck bearing the familiar canvas bags that meant she’d brought bread.
She dropped the bread bags on the ground and launched herself at Bram. He barely caught her and they both went down in the grass in a pile of limbs and laughter.
“Okay, how’s it going? Quick, tell me everything. You have six seconds,” Moon said, exposing the ruse of their fall.
Bram burst out laughing. “It’s going great, now get off me.” He shoved his little sister just far enough away to get up, then pulled her back into a hug. “No, don’t get off me. I’ve missed the hell out of you.”
“Me too. I made your favorite.”
His mouth watered at the thought of her honey wheat bread with herbs. “Thanks.”
“Does he like bread?”
“Um. Yeah?”
She harrumphed and let him go.
Bram had just opened his mouth to yell a warning at Zachary when Moon launched herself at him. She skidded to a stop at the cartoonish look of horror on his face and opened her arms innocently.
