Page 30 of Alder Woodacre and the Acorns of Affection (Amaranthine Interludes #3)

With everything that was going on, Joe guessed that Kip would have to put off his plans indefinitely.

However, when the following Saturday dawned with clear skies and warm breezes, he pulled Joe aside and ventured, “You still want to see my place?”

“Can we?”

“I gotchu.”

With Coach out of commission, Kip had borrowed Lookha-soh’s delivery truck. Patting its side, he admitted, “I know I’m being stingy, but I warded it against stowaways. Just us today.”

The drive up past Nocking took a while, so Joe brought up something that had been on his mind since his trip into Fletching with Boniface. “Did you know that flutter-nuggets are supposed to be romantic?”

Kip laughed. “Who’s been feeding you nippet lore?”

“Boniface. He knew that the name of Tyrone’s boutique comes from courting tradition.”

“Sure. I know a little bit about romancing someone avian-style. I mean, I was around when Tyrone was courting his bondmate, and … well, I’m a total snoop.

To be fair, I’ve probably picked up just as many wolvish traditions.

All part of growing up in an enclave. Cooperation blurs the lines of distinction. ”

“So secret messages and moons make sense to you?”

“Yep. I have the context, so I get the gist. I mean, we’re the farthest thing from isolationists or traditionalists.

It’s part of how our enclave started.” Kip shrugged.

“My mom and Doon-wen both chose Kith for their bondmates. And Cyril’s all about education, which also has a way of chasing creaky old traditions out of odd corners. ”

“So you don’t keep any squirrel traditions?”

“I guess we do, but it’s a mixed bag. Some things are quaint and sort of comfortable.

Other traditions didn’t age well, so when their time passed, they were set aside.

No big deal.” He drummed his hands on the steering wheel.

“I’ve been passing myself off as human for so long, I’ve adopted just as many human customs.”

Joe guessed that meant that he didn’t have to stick to any set pattern. “So anything goes.”

“For us?” Kip’s quick glance was hard to read. “I’m good if you’re good. Oh, hey … here we are!”

He’d changed the subject.

And Joe wasn’t sure why.

There wasn’t much to see from the road. Kip navigated past a rust-red mailbox, onto a narrow gravel drive that disappeared around a curve.

“The property’s pretty straightforward. Twenty-four acres. Four across, six deep, with the cabin set in the middle. This part’s mostly pines and spruces, and I let it go wild since it’s our privacy hedge. But riiight about here, bam .”

The drive pulled free of the dense greenery, entering an orderly section of big old trees. They were well-spaced so that sunlight reached the ground. Younger trees were in evidence, too, saplings doing their best to catch up to the rest of the grove.

“Every so often, I’ll let this guy that Uncle Denny knows take one. This is quality hardwood, and he’s a carpenter. Beaver clan.”

He pulled up in front of a small house with a steeply-pitched roof and an extra tall front door.

Joe said, “You lived here with Ash.”

“Yeahhh, this was ours. The land’s technically mine.

House, too. Uncle Denny helped us play with the names on the deeds at appropriate intervals, and I sold off pieces and parcels over the years so I wouldn’t come across as some kind of land or lumber baron.

” He awkwardly asked, “You want a look inside?”

“I am curious.”

“It’s as sturdy and snug as I could make it, but … nothing fancy. We built it to last.”

Joe studied the house with fresh interest. “You did this yourself?”

“Well, sure. You have to remember that we’ve been here for a long time.

Back in the day, most people built their own homes.

It was fun, playing at pioneers, striking out on our own and doing things up to suit ourselves.

” Kip proudly added, “This cabin was the first place Ash could walk through the door without having to crouch or duck.”

“Something like that must have made this really feel like home to him.”

Kip turned all awkward and redirected again.

“This place was perfect for hiding out, but I missed being part of something livelier. Ash understood, and we started looking for ways to connect more. Cyril had us working on his campus for a while. Maintenance and upkeep. Landscaping, even. Turns out we were good at it.”

Joe strolled through the cabin. The main room was wide open with a ladder to a loft on one side, kitchen and bath tucked in a corner, and a big old fireplace dominating the back wall.

There was a battered sofa, some empty bookshelves, a bed strewn with plaid blankets, and little kitchen table, but not much else for furniture.

He borrowed the bathroom, and while he was washing up, his attention snagged on a list tacked to the wall beside the old-fashioned medicine cabinet.

The paper was old, and items had been added at intervals, probably over a dozen decades.

The earliest entries were in pencil, with some items in Ash’s tidy print while other things were in Kip’s usual scrawl. The items were … strange.

Opening the door, Joe called, “Hey, Kip …? What’s this?”

Leaning through the door, his bondmate laughed.

“Those were our rules to live by, way back when. We were just starting out, and we didn’t want to make any stupid mistakes while we were passing ourselves off as human.

In my youth, I was a little … oh, let’s go with reckless, so Ash started the list. For my own good. ”

With that context, the rules made more sense.

Check your hands before leaving the house.

Always use light switches.

Seconds is okay. Thirds is getting greedy.

Farther along, Ash had written and underlined a new rule.

Act your age. We’re supposed to be OLD guys.

Some rules hinted at changes … and how much Ash and Kip had needed to support each other through them.

We’re allowed to care. We’re allowed to cry.

New faces, new names. Stay in character.

Careful with that smile, heart-breaker.

Little boys can fall in love, same as little girls.

There was even some inside jokes and friendly bickering.

Enough is enough. Leave the puns at school.

Glitter is supposed to be happy stuff. Stop scowling.

I’m revoking your paperclip budget.

The last ones were recent. Kip’s scrawl must’ve been added right before they moved to Red Gate Farm.

Love you. Always will.

Under it, Ash had left a reply.

Same.

But it hadn’t been the same. Not at all.

“So, umm … I was down here. Ash had the loft.” Kip hurried them back outside. Pointing to the only other building, he said, “That’s our machine shed. Well, it’s Ash’s, really. A fixer-upper’s paradise of parts.”

Joe wasn’t sure why Kip kept hitting awkward pauses. It wasn’t like him. “When did you guys start at the school?”

“Landmark? Right from the beginning. We applied while it was still being built. So in a way, we became founders, too. Just like our parents.”

“Wow.”

“You’re impressed?”

“Yes. Very much. By everything.” He gazed around, trying to get a sense for this new place. “Only … what do you think I’m supposed to do?”

“About …?”

“What Linlu was saying. About influencing the land … or something.”

“Oh, right. The whole spread the love thing. Yeah, you should totally try that here. In fact, I’d be grateful.”

“But … how ?”

“Probably the same way you do it at home.”

Joe didn’t think he was being stubborn. And he guessed that Kip thought he was being helpful. So what was he missing?

Kip adjusted his posture, tapped Joe’s nose, then tapped his own. “You love your farm.”

“Yes.”

“You want it to thrive, so you look after it. I’ve seen you.

I might’ve missed a bunch, but I do notice the things you do.

Probably more than you notice them yourself.

Maybe because it’s nothing fancy. But it’s sturdy and cozy and built to last.” He held out his hand.

“Come on, Jiro. Let’s take a walk. Get your feet under you and see if the land welcomes you. ”